Chapter 76: Amanda

Amanda's POV

"Miss Dawson, Mr. Easton is here to see you.”

Her voice startled me, and the pen fell from my fingers. Really, I hadn't even noticed that I'd been standing out the office window a few minutes longer, rain beading against it in a rhythm only it knew.

Kellan. Again.

I straightened my posture, smoothing down my skirt as I stood, feigning his sudden appearance wasn't the least bit off kilter. It was a habit now: him just popping up with excuses veiled in charming smiles and business talk. And every time, I had told myself it wasn't significant. That it was harmless.

I had lied to myself.

"Send him in," I finally said, willing the air steady in my lungs.

A few seconds later, the door opened, and there he was: Kellan Easton, in all his untouchable confidence. Immaculately attired in dark slacks and a fitted charcoal suit, he strode into the room as if he owned it. It was his eyes, though, that really unnerved me-that keen blue gaze never missed a thing and cut through me like he could see every crack I tried to hide.

"Good morning, Amanda." Smooth and deep, his voice ran over me with an undernote of something I couldn't place. Curiosity? Determination?

"Mr. Easton."

"Kellan," he corrected.

He always did. I ignored him, turning toward the mess of papers on my desk to make it appear I was busy.

"What am I indebted to, this visit?" I asked, eyes on the papers.

“Carl asked me to go over some last details for the charity gala next month. I thought it would get hashed out a lot easier if I came and spoke to you directly."

My hands stilled for the briefest moment. "Carl said nothing about that."

Kellan shrugged, tugging the corner of his lips upwards in the ghost of a smirk as he casually leaned against the edge of my desk. "I guess he's been busy. Or maybe he forgot.”

Carl never forgot, but I said nothing. My throat was dry.

The truth was, Kellan's presence left me…uneasy. Not in the way Carl sometimes did, that the discomfort came in silent, invisible strings tugging on my freedom. No, with Kellan it was different. Unfamiliar. His presence unsettled me because something about it felt so very familiar, and I couldn't explain why.

It had started with little things.

This incomprehensible tightness in my chest, having seen him for the very first time-he felt so much like he belonged, yet his smile rang a bell, and then there was his voice. Sometimes, with every passing second as he spoke, a pang deep inside the pit of my stomach seemed to reach out to memories that could never have been.

"Amanda?"

I stared. Finally, I blinked, realized my mistake, and concentrated on the nearest stack of files as heat crawled up the back of my neck. "Right. Let's go over the details then.”

It was a brief meeting, although Kellan stretched it out as much as humanly possible by making polite questions and casual small talk. At first, I wrote it off as harmless flirtation: guys like Kellan were used to getting their way, and I was not naive enough to take any of this seriously.

Yet, as he stood and made his preparations to leave, I had to ask, "Why do you keep coming here?"

It was out before I could catch myself.

Kellan turned back to me, one brow arcing. "Excuse me?"

"You always say it's business," I said carefully, working for neutral. "But you could easily send someone in your place. Why do you keep coming by yourself?

For the first time, Kellan looked thrown, but he composed himself in record time. "Do you want me to stop coming?”

I faltered. Do I?

"That's not what I said," I said finally, not looking at him.

"I come because I enjoy the company," he said softly.

Something in his tone-a sincerity, a truth-made me stop and listen. And when I looked up, he was staring at me-straight into my eyes-with that searching expression. For the briefest of moments, somehow felt eternal, I simply held his gaze.

"Amanda."

Carl's voice cut the air, slicing whatever fragile moment had just occurred. I whipped sharply around to the doorway where Carl was standing with his usual calm, though the tightness of his jaw spoke of another story altogether.

"Kellan," Carl added briefly, nodding in his direction.

"Carl," Kellan returned silkily, guarded.

Carl's gaze flicked to me. "I need a word with you. Now.”

I swallowed as my nerves twisted into a knot. "Of course."

I didn't dare turn around and look at Kellan as Carl ushered me out of the office, down the hall. I could still feel his eyes on me, though, like he stared at my back, trying to puzzle out something in his mind.

"You keep away from Kellan Easton," Carl said, wasting no words the minute the door to his office closed behind us.

I frowned. "What do you mean?”

Carl leaned against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "He is one of those men that do not know how to mind their own business. The more you let him speak with you, the more curious he will be."

About what? I wanted to ask.

"Carl, don't be such a hothead. He's only trying to finalize the gala arrangements."

"Don't be so naive, Amanda," Carl snapped, the razor-sharp voice forcing me to flinch. "Easton doesn't do anything without a motive. I'm telling you to stay away from him."

It brooked no argument, but some of the words didn't quite sit right with me. I'd seen Carl frustrated; but this.this was another thing altogether.

He was afraid.

Of Kellan?

Of something else?

I lay in my bed that night, staring up at the ceiling as rain lightly drummed against my window. It was then I couldn't stop myself, my head whirling on.

Kellan's words. Carl's warning. The weirdness of a recognition feeling like it simply would never go away.

Then again, flashes started.

Warm laughter, so well known. A gleam of a gold-thin band that shone through sunlight.

A voice. Low and soft, calling me a name.

" Liv…”

I jerked to sit up, my lungs gasping for oxygen. My heart thundered in my chest as my gaze riveted to my shaking hands.

Liv.

Who was Liv?

I squeezed my palms against my eyes, as if to steady myself. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. I'd had dreams like this before - fragmented images of a life I couldn't remember. Carl was always telling me they were just my mind playing tricks on me, remnants from the accident I'd pulled through.

But it felt real.

Too real.

And that frightened me.

Later that night, I found Carl in his study. He was on the phone when I went into the room but instantly excused himself the second he saw me. "Amanda. What is it?"

"I need to talk to you."

Carl's face changed, expression subtle though masked with politeness into a smile. "Of course. Sit down.”

I didn't sit. Instead, I crossed my arms over my chest and summoned every ounce of courage inside me. "I need you to tell me the truth."

Carl furrowed his brow. "About what?"

"About me," I said, steady and clear. "About my past."

Carl's smile froze, and his whole body went into stillness. "We've talked about this before, Amanda.”

"No." I shook my head, my voice shaking. "We haven't. You've told me I was in an accident. That I lost my memory. But what if…"

I swallowed, forcing the words out.

"What if I'm starting to remember things?"

Something flashed in Carl's eyes-something dark and dangerous-but was gone before I could name it.

"Amanda," he said, slow, his tone smooth, but cold. "You don't need to remember the past."

"But I

"It is better this way," Carl inserted now with a sharp voice. "It will only bring pain to dwell on those things which one can never change."

I frowned into him, my tummy twisting. "What is this? What is it that you don't tell me?

Carl leaned off the desk and closed the space between us; in an instant, he overwhelmed me. "Amanda, listen to me. Everything I've done has been to protect you. To keep you safe. You trust me, don't you?"

I hedged. "I don't know anymore."

His face clouded, yet he was smiling. "You no longer have to be afraid of the past. I will manage everything. Just listen to me, and everything will turn out all right.”

These words sent shivers down my spine, and something terrible dawned on me for the first time in years.

I did not believe him.

Not any longer.