Chapter 77

Candace had forgotten how much she truly despised wearing cashmere. It made the back of her neck itch.

But the lavender sweater was one of the most expensive items of clothing she had. So yesterday, she’d pulled it and the matching skirt out, knowing that if she wanted to get through today with any semblance of dignity, she needed to look her absolute best.

Still, as she sat in the impeccably decorated high-rise offices of Carrington Security, she had to fight the urge to scrape her nails along the back of her neck. However, doing so would leave bright red marks across her skin. It was silly vanity, but when she saw Nolan again, she didn’t want to look blotchy.

She was nervous enough as it was, without adding blotchy to her list of problems.

What if he never wanted to see her again? His refusal to contact or reach out to her since she left was enough to answer that question, but she had to try. The next twenty or so minutes were going to be very uncomfortable…She just knew it. Particularly the part where she asked him to give her fifty thousand dollars.

Before she could contemplate that possibility, the door to his office opened and the same dour-looking man who’d entered ten minutes ago walked out. He gave her an appraising look, and she had the distinct impression he and Nolan had been discussing her. Which was just great. Because she wasn’t nearly nervous enough as it was.

A moment later, the receptionist looked up and said, “Ms. McKenna, Mr. Carrington will see you now.”

Candace moved mindlessly into his office, barely aware of his assistant asking if she wanted a cup of coffee and then leaving when she didn’t reply. She was too keyed up to drink anything and too aware of Nolan to answer.

The instant she saw his face, Candace knew it had been a mistake to come. Knew her hopes that he’d forgiven her were about to be crushed. His expression said it all. He stood behind his desk, every muscle of his body tense, as if she were some medusa from his past who’d turned him into a statue of repressed hate. But he didn’t look angry that she’d come. No, he looked shut down. But somehow she could tell that behind that complete detachment hid seething anger.

He looked so different from the Nolan she'd met. The playful, always smiling guy who took life issues lightly as they came. No… It was like he'd been replaced. He’d never forgiven her. And he would not loan her the money. Jeez, she’d be lucky if he didn’t call in security guards to have her hauled out and thrown down to the curb.

A hysterical giggle bubbled up through her chest. Did the bosses of security firms have security guards? He certainly didn’t look as if he needed them. No, he wouldn’t need anyone else to throw her out. He looked more than capable of doing it himself. And like he might even enjoy it, if he let himself.

But she’d been doing hard things her entire life. This would be no different. Though undoubtedly more humiliating.

Since this wasn’t going to get any easier, she launched into the script she’d been practicing for days.

“Hello, Nolan. It’s nice to see you again.”

She expected some rejoinder. Not long enough, perhaps.

Instead, he nodded, his face still lined with cool distaste. As if a slug had slimed its way into his office and he didn’t want to step on it and risk ruining the carpet.

“Candace.” He accompanied the word with a brief nod.

That was the only way she knew it was a greeting and not a slur. “How have you been?” she asked, mostly because it seemed rude to jump straight to the part where she begged him for money.

“Let’s skip the pleasantries. You must want something from me or you wouldn’t be here.”

She winced. Almost denied it, but what was the point? It was still true. “You’re right.” She gestured toward the chair opposite Nolan's desk. “May I sit?”

He seemed to consider the question for a minute before nodding. Maybe if they were both sitting, she’d be able to dismiss her fears that he was about to jump across the desk and pounce on her like a wild puma devouring his prey.

However, instead of sitting when she did, he continued to lean, his hips propped against the edge of his desk, a mug of coffee steaming beside his hand. Since his legs were stretched out in front of him, she had to cross hers at the ankle and keep them tucked off to the side to avoid brushing her feet against his.

“You must know that whatever it is you want, I won’t give it to you.”

“It’s not for me, if that makes any difference at all.”

“It doesn’t.”

“It’s for my brother, Andrew….”

“I don’t care—”

She spoke quickly over his arguments, her desperation palpable. “I need you, Nolan. Please. I wouldn’t ask for help if there was anyone else I could turn to.”

He didn’t say anything, so she kept talking. “He’s gotten himself into trouble and owes some people money. These people… The Blackstone Cartel… They—” She couldn’t quite bring herself to repeat the things she’d heard.

Apparently the Blackstone Cartel were the up-and-comers in the world of organized crime. They were making a name for themselves by being more brutal and more ruthless than any of their competitors. They’d already been linked to a string of bloody murders, but the authorities hadn’t been able to build a case against them.

“Andrew says they’ve threatened him. They’re going to cut off a finger or something. But I think he’s wrong. I think it’s going to be much worse. He’s scared. And I’m scared for him.”

So scared she couldn’t let herself think about it. She’d been concentrating only on getting here. On talking to Nolan. On putting herself in his hands and hoping he’d help her.

For a brief moment, Nolan's gaze seemed to soften as he studied her. Then he straightened and rounded the desk, distancing himself from her. “So why come to me? I suppose you want me to take care of it.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand. As if brushing Andrew's problems aside. “I suppose you think that because I own a security company I have a legion of hired thugs to do my bidding. But that’s not the kind of work I do.”

“I know what you do.”