Chapter 27 NEW BEGINNINGS (I)
Chapter 27 NEW BEGINNINGS (I)
FIVE YEARS LATER…
“Congratulations on your appointment as Senior Developer, Miss Ferguson. Echelon Black is happy to have you on board. The CEO sends his best wishes.”
My heart is full to the point of bursting as the room erupts into thunderous applause.
I received my promotional letter three days ago. Today, I walked into a surprise party hosted by my colleagues. Looking at their happy, smiling faces, I send a silent prayer of gratitude to God.
I arrived at Echelon Black as a lead developer, heartbroken and hungry for success. It was rumoured that it took ten years of hardwork, blood and tears to attain the level of senior developer. I gave myself five years, and here we are.
“Bestie!! I’m so proud of you!” Scarlett, my best friend in the whole wide world, pulls me in a long hug when I’m done giving my “thank you” speech.
Scarlett was the first friend I made at Echelon Black.
She was the first person who noticed that I was lonely and gradually slipping into depression.
She stayed by my side through the birth of my daughter, Estelle, and helped out on nights when I genuinely thought I would die from the stress of combining work and being a new mom.
Scarlett held me whenever I would randomly burst into tears after getting flashbacks about my life in Manhattan. She never judged me, never made me feel like I was a burden.
I love her from the bottom of my heart. If I was even remotely gay, I would marry her on the spot.
“Drinks after?” She asks, tossing her glorious mane of glossy red hair over one shoulder.
“Maybe later tonight. I have a meeting with Mr. Davenport this evening.”
Her green eyes twinkle with mischief.
“Ah. The sizzling hot sugar daddy.”
“Girl, if you don’t stop fantasizing about my clients!”
She pouts, “you always get all the hot ones, and I end up with millionaires who think brushing their teeth every morning is equivalent to hard labour.”
I shake my head, unable to help the laughter that bubbles past my lips.
“I promise, if I get another hot client, he’s all yours.”
“You said it, girl! See you later.”
She presses a smacking kiss to my forehead right before I hightail out of the office.
A flashy, black Rolls Royce is already idling on the curb when I finally make it outside.
“Good afternoon, Miss Ferguson. The boss sent me to fetch you.”
“Good afternoon, James. Nice to see you again.”
“Likewise.”
He holds the door open and I slide into the comfy, luxurious interior of the car.
James is Asian-American, and just …ridiculously handsome.
He’s so handsome that Scarlett, my ever flirtatious bestie, summoned the courage to ask for his number once. He turned her down with a shy smile, of course.
Later that night, Scarlett confirmed that that smile alone nearly made her melt to the sun-heated curb.
With his otherworldly good looks, James definitely belongs on the cover pages of international fashion magazines. However, he doubles as Mr. Davenport’s chief-of-security and personal bodyguard.
“Where are we going today, James?”
“The WhiteCombe restaurant in Mayfair.”
“Great.”
The WhiteCombe is one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, only catering to a select percentage of London’s high society clients. Trust Mr. Davenport to always pick the best of the best.
“Do you have any idea what Mr. Davenport wants to discuss? He said it was urgent.”
Frankly, I’m a bit nervous.
“No idea, ma’am. I’m sure you’ll find out once you get there.”
Mr. Davenport is one of Echelon Black’s highest paying clients.
Four years ago, when I was still new to London’s world of power and prestige, he walked into the office with his army of security, took one look at me and said;
“Get her on the case. She’s the one I want.”
Three days later, I found out that I’d been hired to track down his ex-wife. The woman stole ten billion dollars from him and ran off to a tiny Island in Cebu with her boytoy.
I found her within twenty-eight hours, a feat that the then senior developers could not achieve in two weeks.
Since then, Mr. Davenport and I have become inseparable. He even gave himself the title of Estelle’s self-appointed god father.
He is already seated when I arrive. His ink black hair, streaked with the occasional white, shimmers beneath the lights as he peruses the menu with a serious expression.
“Mr. Davenport. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”
He looks up, his handsome face lighting up in a big smile when he sees me.
“Hayley, you finally made it.”
I lean in for a hug, breathing in his expensive, soothing tobacco scent. He kisses both my cheeks before I pull away.
“How’ve you been?” I ask, settling into the chair across from him.
“Oh, you know. The usual stuff. Work and fun.”
I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. Ever since his ex-wife messed up, Mr. Davenport swore he’d never remarry. Five years down the line, he’s still resolute on that decision, although women hover around him like flies, all thanks to his aristocratic good looks and charming personality.
“I hope you’ve not been having too much fun.”
His grey eyes twinkle with mischief. “Let’s see, I booked an entire beach front property in Malibu two days ago and threw the biggest summer party ever recorded in the city. There may or may not have been an orgy in some of those rooms.”
I almost choke on my white wine.
“Goodness me, Mr. Davenport!”
He hides his smile behind a breadstick.
“I’ve told you to call me Peter.”
“Sorry, Peter. But an orgy?” I cough, lowering my voice as the waiter comes around to take our order. “Did you use protection at least?”
He rolls his eyes good naturedly.
“Yes, mother. I did.”
We dissolve into a fit of giggles and I shake my head at his antics.
After Silvan, I consider Peter my second male best friend in the whole wide world. He knows about a sizable chunk of my history with Edward and I know he ran away from his family to establish a name for himself in London’s exotic wine industry after they tried to force him to join the family business.
When a long line of waiters arrive, each carrying heavy laden trays, I have to pause and address the situation.
“Why so much food? What are we celebrating?”
“Someone got promoted, didn’t they?”
My smile grows wider. “How did you know?!”
He shrugs, “Black told me he had a list of people in mind. I may have put in a good word for you.”
My smile thins;
“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” He chides. “I did not beg him to promote you. I merely hawked your qualifications in his face until he saw your worth.”
I nod, reaching across the table to take his hand; “thank you so much, Peter. For everything. I really appreciate it.”
He waves me away. “Aw, c’mon. It’s a festive night. You’re gonna make me cry..."