CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

SHONDRA:

Six years ago…

Axel's father looked up from his magazine at my entry. He laid down his copy of Psychology Today and rose to meet me. Given the circumstances, I was unsure of the protocol on how to greet him, so I stood silent… waiting.

He grabbed me in a hug. Not one of those one-armed ones, but a true fatherly one with arms around me and a soft pat on the back. Brief and to the point, the action made me feel comfortable...safe even.

What stranger would hug a person only to tell them off?

"Shondra Williams," he said, releasing me from his grip, but not from the sheer power which exuded from his person. It oozed from every pore, scenting the surrounding air with wealth and privilege.

I didn't let my awe control the situation. Instead, I studied him as he held me at arm's length. At one time he must have mirrored his son in size. Now his arms hung close to his body while Axel's, due to muscle mass, stood away from him.

He was shorter than his son by a negligible amount. Only a couple of inches at most. His hair, a halo of thick fullness, mightn't been the same dark blonde as Axel's at one time, but now it was mostly white.

And there, the similarities ended.

Mr. Hammerstein, or Paul as he directed me to call him, had brown eyes that didn't need to be ice blue to be intimidating. The intensity he projected into them was more than enough to make anyone self-conscious, and nervous, and awestruck...

Yep, I was all three.

"Sit, sit," he said after getting the "Call me Paul" and the "I've heard so much about you out" the way.

I did as he asked, praying the delicate chair wouldn't creak, or worse, break under my weight.

Paul undoubtedly weighed more than me, but I knew the chair wouldn't dare spill his ass on the ground like it would mine. Unlike me, he belonged here.

While he stirred more sugar in his tea, I admired the decor. From the burnished mahogany wood and expensive works of art on the walls, everything, like the chair, spoke against me. The words they said, like interloper and fraud, whispered from every knickknack and burnished wooden floorboard. I wasn't used to better growing up and Axel had never taken me to places such as this. He preferred to go to sports bars or undiscovered diners.

Yep. That's all he took you to. I bet his other girls received the red-carpet treatment and trips to the Hampton.

"Shondra," Paul said, snapping me back to attention, "are you comfortable here? We can go somewhere else if you like?"

I was too busy trying to bolster my confidence to let his keen observation skills worry me.

They should have.

"No, no. Here is fine," I said, adding a smile that I was sure didn't reach my eyes. It wasn't fine. I wasn't fine. Not at all. Despite Paul's fatherly concern, and his soft demeanor, the fear and doubt William had started on the ride over grew like a bad debt.

And I had a feeling... payment was due.

"Are you interested in the human mind, Shondra?" Paul asked with a twinkle in his eye.

Of all the questions he could have asked me, I wasn't expecting that. It threw me for a loop. I stammered, trying to hold my guard up as I searched my mind of the right answer. "Uh, well, yeah, sure."

"Then you should read this article. It's about a psychologist, Dr. Karat." I eyeballed the black-and-white picture of a thin man with a bushy black moustache and a bald head. His dark eyes were impossibly full in his narrow face. "This Dr. Karat uses hypnotism to cure people. From what it says here..." he tapped a page with a thick finger, "with only a few sessions, he reprogrammed a person's mind to fight of dementia, amnesia, and even psychosis. They are calling his methods a medical anomaly."

"Oh. Wow. Interesting." What the hell does that have to do with Axel and me?

Paul laughed. "I ordered you Earl Grey tea. I understand that is your favorite."

"Yes. Yes, it is. I hope you remembered the milk."

Paul laughed again, an indulgent sound. "Yes, yes, of course."

Before getting down to the 'real business,’ Paul asked about my thoughts on

I replied that any city I didn't stick out in was a wonderful city.

Here he laughed for a good minute and had to wipe at the corners of his eyes. I didn't join in. Growing up in Chicago, I knew never to let my guard down when dealing with strangers. At least not until the fifth or sixth meeting. 

Paul tore through that when he started telling me stories of Axel. All as a little boy. All too soon, I was giggling, then chuckling, then out right laughing at what a handful my man was. The way Paul told it, Axel was always the tough guy, the big man in town...

Until his mother died.

Paul took a sip of tea, rattling the cup as he placed it back in its saucer. "Axel retreated into himself that summer Major died. He barely came out of his room except to work out or eat. Major's death hit him hard...it hit us both hard."

He fiddled with his spoon, tapping it on the edge of his newest cup of brew. Between us we had drunk at least a gallon of tea and eaten a field of finger sandwiches.

By that time, I felt as relaxed with Paul as I was with Vegas, no longer wondering about Gilliam's dire warnings or if meeting Axel's father on my own wasn't such a good idea. I would've been on the lookout for some sort of trick, but he'd pulled me into complacency by excellent food and enjoyable conversation.

And that was when Paul struck.

He blindsided me with sound reasoning and played on my love for his son until all I could do was sit there and let his words take hold, twisting and turning everything I knew to be right into what was wrong.

Paul's gaze was steady as he chiseled at my heart. "You're a remarkable woman, Shondra. I'm not only impressed by your business acumen, but your wit and your beauty. You're the full package, and one day, I hope to welcome you into the family."