Page 111 of Claimed By my Father's Enemies
His eyes find mine the second he's through the door and although they're focused I can see the dark circles under them.
I hope he's eating. I hope he's taking care of himself.
He crosses to Arthur, handshake, professional, already running the room without raising his voice.
"Arthur, before we start I'd like a word with my client."
Paula makes a sound under her breath. "Preposterous."
Arthur gestures vaguely.
Adrian turns to me.
He says, quietly, "Please."
There is this undercurrent of emotion that envelops us. I am standing up and following him to the corridor before I really think about it.
The door closes behind us. The sound of it sealing off the room, Paula, Arthur, all of it.
Adrian looks at me and his expression is controlled in the way that takes real effort. I can see the effort. The line of his jaw. The set of his shoulders.
"This is not an ambush." His voice is careful. Each word placed with care. "You shouldn't sign any documents without a lawyer present. Regardless of what you feel about me, I will represent your interests to the best of my abilities."
"How did you know about this meeting?" I ask.
"I took the liberty of checking your legal situation after what we—" He hesitates. "I'm here if you want my help."
My heart is beating too fast. He checked. He's been monitoring what I need, from a distance, without contact, without any guarantee I would let him in, and he came anyway.
"Okay," I say.
He gives me a smile with nothing happy in it. Acknowledgment. Deal confirmed. He puts his hand back on the door handle and then turns back.
"Are you sure you don't want any of the assets?" he asks.
"I just want Cross Manor and the property."
He nods once and opens the door.
We go back in. He puts his hand briefly on my elbow, guiding me away from my original seat to the one beside him, and I feel his touch everywhere.
He sits down across from Paula without looking at her and says to Arthur, "Can I see the documents?" Arthur slides them across the table.
Adrian reads.
I watch him read.
The focus is complete. Nothing exists for him right now except the pages. He turns each one at a deliberate pace, jaw set in concentration. His hands on the paper. Long fingers, slow, precise.
I can still feel his touch on my elbow.
He finishes. Slides the stack across to me. Our fingers make contact for half a second when I take the papers and I look down at them immediately.
"Everything seems okay," he says. "Read through. If you're satisfied, sign."
I read. He was right to come. Three dense pages of legal qualification I would have moved through too fast on my own. I take my time. Everything seems correct. I sign.
Done.
