The Only Choice (The Choices Trilogy #3) (19 page)

Mr Wilson is smiling down at me as I fumble to remove my earphones and he fumbles to put his key into his office door.

“Hello Mr Wilson . . . Thank you so much for seeing me in your holiday. I am really grateful.” I certainly sound grateful. He offers a generous smile in return and I follow him inside. I take a seat while he shuffles some papers on his desk and opens his computer, frowning at the screen as it takes its time coming back to life, whirring, clicking and moaning as if disgruntled to be disturbed from a deep slumber. I try to read his face as his eyes dart over the screen picking up salient information and dismissing what isn’t. He sits back and looks intently at me. He looks well, his silver grey hair is a little longer with an unruly wave that looks rougish and suits him. He has a warm tan and his more casual polo shirt makes him look relaxed and approachable. Not that his more formal attire makes him unapproachable, his kind amenable nature makes that impossible.

“Bethany you don’t need to worry, this misunderstanding over your patent application has been cleared with the very extensive report Stone R & D submitted. A copy was sent to Chris Taylor at ProProducts but I am afraid they have filled your position.” His concern is genuine like this was somehow his responsibility.

“I couldn’t go back there but thank you.” My voice is quiet.

“There is nothing to thank me for my dear. It would seem Daniel got you into this mess but it would seem he’s bent over backwards to get you out of it.” His smile is wide and his sigh suggest it’s ‘whats to be expected,’ this is Daniel Stone after all. “It is all sorted this end I just hope it’s not caused too much trouble. You know I believe he would’ve had your best interests at heart. I have never seen him like this. He just isn’t very good at not doing everything
his
way.”

I sniff out a light laugh. “I had noticed. I am relieved it’s sorted, really, it’s almost all I could think about. I am so glad you could see me, I think I would’ve been a wreck if I had had to wait until October.”

“I wouldn’t have let you get kicked off the course and neither would Daniel.” He nods and grins. I feel a sense of relief but it is only fleeting as what I have to ask next is above and beyond our professional relationship. I just pray it’s not too much because I really value his friendship. I am just desperate. He sits forward. “There must be something else because we both know this could’ve been accomplished with a well constructed email or with a telephone call.” He sees me swallow and it’s loud enough to be audible even to his sometime selective hearing. “What can I help you with Bethany?”

I shift in my seat under his intense gaze and start to chew my lip. “It’s not about my course.” I return his stare trying to gauge whether I am wholly out of line.

“I gathered as much but really I think we are a little beyond the professional student professor relationship; well I would like to think so. I would like to think you consider me a friend and someone you could trust.” His kind words are just the encouragement I needed to hear.

“It’s about Angel . . . I need some information . . . personal information.” He sits back with a frown but he raises a brow for me to continue. I don’t know how much to reveal. I don’t know how much he knows about the details of Daniel and Angels relationship. I know he doesn’t hold his ‘niece’ in the highest regard but that doesn’t mean Daniel would thank me for airing all his dirty laundry to someone he respects like a father. So with the care of navigating a minefield I try and explain why I need his assistance. “I believe she wants Daniel back and she is using their past and not in a good way.”

“She is married Bethany are you sure about this?” He leans on his elbows his expression full of concern. I just widen my eyes and tilt my head in an expression that screams ‘yes pretty sure.’ He nods with understanding.

“I think she is trying to use a tactical pregnancy to her advantage. It’s manipulative and cruel.” I can feel my voice shake.

“Manipulative and cruel certainly sound like Angel and I know I am the last person besides Mrs W to think well of her the but even I would have trouble believing that she would do something so insidious as use a pregnancy against him. Besides being unlikely, why would Daniel go along with anything like that?” He lets out a puff of air and shakes his head in disbelief.

“He thinks he owes her and won’t or can’t see beyond that. I’ve tried, believe me.” I emphasise these last words to try and highlight my exasperation. “I have tried to make him see what she’s doing is wrong but he is stubbornly blinkered when it comes to her.”

“Ha! Yes that does sound like Daniel, stubborn to a fault.” He snorts but I interrupt him picking up on his last statement.

“Wait, why would it be unlikely?” I lean forward and I can see the internal struggle flash across his face as he decides whether this question is one question too far. I panic because I don’t want to put him in that position and jeopardise this precious balance of friendship and trust. “Sorry Mr Wilson, I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t have to answer that.” I reach for my bag feeling suddenly intrusive and uncomfortable.

“No, Bethany, it’s fine, really. It’s just that . . . she can’t have children.” He lets out a painfully heavy sigh. “I told you about Angels mother. She knew the infertility was genetic and despite the miracle of falling pregnant with Angel herself there were many many years of unbearable heartbreak and pain. She wanted to save Angel from that uncertainty, so she had Angel was tested when she hit puberty. Her mother didn’t want her to go through the anxiety of years of false hope.” He pauses, “I suppose with modern medicine, there is always the possibility of another miracle but I’m afraid it would have to be a miracle.” He looks sad and I don’t know whether that is because the story is sad, which it is or whether he is sad he told me.

“Daniel doesn’t know this?” It is more of a statement than a question.

“Very few people do and I would appreciate it if it remained that way.” I nod but I am trying to think how I can use this information. This changes everything and without the appropriate filter, I blurt out.

“Do you have proof?” I screw my face up and cringe as I hear my harsh words and recoil at his shocked expression. “I’m sorry, God I’m so sorry Mr Wilson . . . forgive me but Daniel needs to know this and he won’t believe me, you have to tell him, he has to know.” My voice pitch rises with each desperate word not helped by Mr Wilsons slowly shaking head.

“Bethany, I’m sorry
that
is not my tale to tell.” I can see the sadness in his eyes and as much as I want to shake him and beg and plead for his help I can see he feels remorse at telling me this much. My only small comfort is that
I’m
not crazy and my spiddy senses were spot on. I just have to find another way to prove it. I lean down to pick up my bag and walk round to his side of the desk; I lean down and kiss him lightly on the cheek.

“Of course, I’m sorry I asked, please forgive me. I love him Mr Wilson, it clouds my judgement and my sensitivity. Thank you for all your help and I promise I won’t betray your confidence but if you do find a way . . . I’d appreciate Daniel learning the truth, before it’s too late.” I walk to the door and turn on the threshold, my soft words drift as I leave the door to close. “Because it’s not just about him anymore.” My brief moment of elation from discovering the truth is surpassed by the realisation that nothing’s changed and Angel still has Daniel exactly where she wants him, guilt wrapped around her bony finger.

MARCO HAS BEEN
working extra shifts for the last few weeks because he too wants to go travelling after the wedding. He has only just come back from his holiday with Rose so he really needs to earn some serious brownie points if he was going to be allowed more time off. The result is that I hadn’t seen him since our brief drink with Ethan, which made me think I hadn’t seen Ethan since then either, just a few texts and the odd phone call. I had spoken to him after Tom’s advice, specifically about my travel plans, as vague as they are. He has convinced me that travelling alone isn’t such a great idea but my options are limited. Ethan had agreed to start his travels to coincide with mine, beginning with a few of the more obscure European cities. I would really like to visit Malmo in Sweden because I have a new found love of Swedish TV crimes, maybe then head down toward Vienna, Budapest and then on to the Dalmatian Coast before heading further East. My original thoughts had been along those lines but now I think a few cities then a peaceful beach for a week or two would be heaven. So I will need to speak to Ethan about how that might fit with his plans. None of these plans have I mentioned to my non-boyfriend and significant other but at least his mention of taking me away means we are on the same page regarding needing a break. He is just unaware that I am intending paying a single traveller supplement when I go. I know he might not like it . . . who am I kidding, he will completely freak that I have kept this from him.

My phone buzzes as my doorbell chimes.

“Were your ears burning?” I chuckle as I answer Daniels call.

“You are talking about me?” His deep voice flares my skin with a sprinkling of light standing hairs. “You have company?” He sounds confused and I realise Patrick must be outside. Something that only this morning would’ve had me spitting feathers but now I find gratefully comforting.

“No company, just talking to myself.” I let out a light nervous laugh. “I haven’t lost it but I’m getting there. Can you hang on I just need to get the door?” I tuck the phone against my shoulder and cheek.

“Sure, knock yourself out.” I hear the echo on the call as the open door reveals his tall frame leaning against the banister on the landing opposite my apartment. His grin is infectious but it doesn’t make me smile, it melts my core to liquid lust. I am acutely aware I haven’t been alone with him since our ‘first’ date, something my body reacts to rectify. I step toward him, holding my breath and sucking in my bottom lip like I can already taste his intoxicating scent on my lips. My fingers twitch with residual memory of his smooth rough skin over tight toned muscles, his eyes bore into me and I have to exhale to expel the building heat in my body. I know my libido has not exactly being playing nice but this is so much more and I feel it in my bones. When I took his call this morning I became enlightened. I understood with absolute clarity that above all, for him,
it’s
about me and that is utterly seductive and sexy as hell. I want to be consumed by him, I want his passion, his obsession. I want him to own me, mark me, and marry me. That is what I want now and I feel giddy with this self-discovery but unfortunately for the first time in my life I can’t count on the one person I need to, me. I just don’t trust myself. So for my sanity I just have to make sure this decision is the result of my brain and heart and not generated from somewhere lower. Until then I will have to keep this monumental revelation, to myself, for now.

He pushes himself off the banister and meets me in the centre of the hall, towering and firm, radiating heat and power and I pool before him. Ironic but true, I try and remind myself only time away will give me the clarity and peace of mind to marry this beautiful man but right now, I just want to wrap myself around every inch of him. This is us, we have our own
normal
and we belong together. I am beyond frustrated that I still need proof of Angel’s deception but at least
I
know the truth. It is a start and what we have is worth fighting for. The intensity of his gaze sears my soul and I know in my heart he won’t ever let me go and I don’t ever want him to. As scared as his call this morning made me, I feel safe now. As perverse as his loyalty to Angel is I feel cherished now and as respectful of my wishes to keep his distance . . . I want him now. His hand cups my neck and tilts my head moving my face so his lips brush mine, his hold tightens and all air rushes from my lungs. Every hair, every nerve, every molecule crackles with latent lust and desire, poised to explode with his next touch and my heart hurts it is beating so hard.

“What do you want Bethany?” The timbre of his deep breathy voice is pure and raw.