The Chosen Heir (The Bolles Dynasty Book 3) (26 page)

Someone handed her a pint of Guinness and she took a swallow.
 

“It was hard.” She regretted her choice of words, given the audience of young, boisterous men.

Truthfully, she wouldn’t miss most of it. Not the backbiting behavior, not the old boy’s network, and certainly not the constant sexual harassment. The men who worked in the financial district wanted well-paid commissions, the ability to take huge adrenaline-pumping risks, and access to scores of sexual partners.

Everyone began asking her questions at once. Holding up her hand, she said, “It’s a huge shift. I don’t have a ton of experience with event planning, but I needed to explore a different career path.”

Watching the curious looks that everyone gave her, she could tell they were surprised and uncertain about her career choice. But all seven of the male colleagues that gathered for a drink with her, wished her well.

She hoped that leaving the financial world wasn’t a huge mistake, but she couldn’t wait to embrace her new life. She may be making a huge mistake but it was hers to make.
 

***

Alistair Martin walked into the pub and his eyes were drawn to a beautiful blond girl drinking a Guinness. Dressed in tight-fitting jeans and slim leather boots, her charming laugh and graceful body set off a rapid-fire urge to approach her. It was absurd; he had never set eyes on her before. How could he possibly be so drawn to her?
 

He turned his attention back to the pub. He was doing a surprise walk-through of his flagship microbrewery. It was his most lucrative pub. Observing the wait staff, he could tell they were trying to warn each other. His expectations were high but fair-minded and he had a reputation for an over-the-top work ethic and a razor-sharp mind.
 

But his gaze returned to the group of investment bankers out for an after-work drink. The woman was in her mid-twenties and seemed to be at the center of the conversation and laughter. They were obviously celebrating something.
 

Why was he enthralled by this particular beauty in sexy jeans? Alistair stayed motionless as she turned and placed her empty bottle on the table and waved to the group. She walked straight towards him and he had the odd feeling that he knew her.

She had a beautiful body that was feminine and her movements had a vaguely familiar quality. Her face had only a trace of makeup, but she had a polished, graceful look about her. Their eyes met and she hesitated for a split second.
 

She nodded in acknowledgment. “Mr. Martin, it’s lovely to see you again.”

Why couldn’t he place her? He couldn’t imagine bedding her and not remembering the encounter. His body reacted swiftly to her nearness.

“I can’t think of how we know each other.” He looked into the crowd, trying to cool his reaction. Could she be an employee in one of his establishments?

“It’s not a big deal. We met ages ago at a gathering.” She was inching away from him and he could see the manager of the brewery in the distance trying to tactfully get his attention.

He reached out and grasped her arm. “Care to refresh my memory?” A physical longing surged between them and he pushed it aside. He didn’t want to let her go until he made sense of their past connection. She was the type of woman who would disturb his dreams. He was drawn to her secretive answer. Clearly, she didn’t want to drag up the past.

***

Anna panicked. The last thing she needed today was to revisit her immature seduction of the great Alistair Martin. It was seven years ago and when he’d realized she was Olivia’s sister, he had rejected her.

Unfortunately, her teenage obsession with him had never ended. These days, she was careful to keep away from him, which wasn’t particularly difficult since he was work obsessed and hated children’s celebrations.

She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, “I’m not sure that would be wise. Cheerio.”

Alistair tightened his grip, halting her exit. Her heart raced and she could feel a nervous tension building in her stomach.

He held her gaze. “You are so familiar. It has been several years.”

“Possibly.” She had caught a glimpse of him the previous Boxing Day but made a swift exit through the garden so she wouldn’t have to speak to him.
 

She knew tons about him. The sad truth was she would scan the internet for photographs of him when she had a spare moment and had followed closely all of his business ventures. Arrogance surrounded him. Alistair Martin dressed in expensive suits that clothed an extremely fit body. He was well known for his charity football matches and Iron Man adventures. He oversaw an extremely prosperous distillery empire and closely managed acres and acres of a third generation winery in Southern England. He was an extremely gifted mathematician, but instead of seeking his fortune in the financial world, he chose agriculture and vice.
 

“You are Olivia’s younger sister.”

She nodded. He did remember her. In fact he was probably thinking about her awkward attempt at seduction after drinking too much at Olivia’s wedding. The hot encounter where he practically stripped her naked until he realized who she was. Somehow being Fionn’s sister-in-law put her off limits. He had asked her age and cursed when she had told him. After that, he barely looked at her. Instead, she ceased to exist in his world. Yet she craved the smallest glimpse of him.

She needed to escape. “I should be going.”

He let go of her arm but held her with his intense gaze. “I’m hosting a charity ball at my house outside of London in a week. Fionn and Olivia have promised to put in an appearance. Come with them.”

He handed her a business card and she politely nodded. She wouldn’t go. Her life was in turmoil, and she didn’t need additional drama. Alistair had met her father, Oliver Bolles, several times before his tragic death in a motorcycle accident. It was too much of the past. She was trying to create a new life for herself.

Anna shrugged and, stepping away, said, “I don’t think so. I’m rather busy with work at the moment.”

He held her gaze a fraction too long, then said, “Possibly another time then,” and walked away from her.

Anna regretted not accepting his invitation but knew nothing good would come of her obsession with him. She forced herself to leave the brewery and head towards her mother’s brownstone. Attempting to banish the image of the strikingly handsome Alistair Martin from her mind, she thought about her mother’s coming reaction to her change of careers.

Anna needed to think about her new job. It would take every scrap of energy and focus. The start-up firm that hired her was short-handed and they were frantically trying to put together a launch party for a new magazine.
 

Anna thought about Frances Casey, an old acquaintance who owned the firm and was about to go out on maternity leave. Her sister had pushed her to take the interview, telling her that the numerous events that she helped out with at the fashion house would be enough experience to throw herself into the start-up. But there was a huge difference between helping out in her spare time and being responsible for an entire event.

Ringing the doorbell at her mother’s mansion, Anna took a deep breath and hoped the news wouldn’t be too upsetting for her. She wasn’t looking forward to the conversation, but she had learned that it was better to face issues head-on than trying to slowly finesse the outcome. Her father’s deceptive behavior had scarred her. She had a steadfast need to tell the truth and she wouldn’t allow herself to soften the message. Unfortunately, her mother relied on appearances and half-truths to conduct her life so it wasn’t always easy to have a heart-to-heart with her.
 

Her mother’s housekeeper, Gertie, opened the door and ushered her in.

“So nice to see you, Miss Anna. Your mother is in the library.”

She smiled at the older woman. “Thank you. You as well. I hope things are good?” Gertie had been working for her mother since Anna was twelve years old. She much preferred to chat with Gertie, as she was always warm and inviting. But in this case, she needed to tell her mother the news herself.

Gertie said, “Yes. It’s been quiet.”

Gathering her courage, an image of Alistair Martin popped into her head. She couldn’t believe after years of avoiding him, she turned around in a pub and he was standing there. On the day that she had decided to risk her future and drastically change her life. He hadn’t even recognized her at first. She had successfully avoided him at every recent social occasion. It wasn’t that difficult. He often arrived late, with a different girlfriend in tow, and Anna would go early and stay for a brief time.

Her mother looked up from the newspaper. “Anna, darling. I’m surprised to see you on a Friday night.”

Her stomach churned and for a split second, she wondered if she would be ill. “Yes, well… something has come up and I wanted to talk with you.”

Her phone vibrated and she read a text from Olivia,
Desperate to speak with you. Did you give notice?

Her mother said loudly, “Gertie, would you be a dear and bring Anna some tea?”

The housekeeper left them and Anna sat opposite her mother on a Victorian-style sofa. This wasn’t going to be welcome news for her.
 

Anna pushed down the anxiety building in her stomach. “Mother, I’ve come to a rather surprising decision and I hope you’ll be able to listen with an open mind.”

He mother frowned. “It can’t be good news or you wouldn’t find it necessary to forestall my objections.”

She met the older woman’s unflinching gaze. “I know you have been proud of my accomplishments at Oxford and happy that I’ve been working for Blackly Simonson.”

Her mother eyed her speculatively but remained silently sipping her tea.

Gertie appeared with a small tray for her, and Anna accepted a hot cup of tea, waiting for the housekeeper to leave them. It was better not to drag Gertie into the coming scene.

She took a sip and then placed the teacup down. “I gave notice today at Blackly Simonson and was escorted out of the building.”

Her mother choked on her tea. Gasping, she asked, “Why would you do such a thing?”

“I’ve accepted a position as an events coordinator for a small start-up.” Anna held up her hand. “The woman who launched the company is pregnant and needs to bring in a partner. It’s just getting off the ground but has a few prestigious clients.”

Her mother’s face tightened. “I don’t understand. Why would you want to plan weddings and such?”

Anna took another sip of her tea. “It’s not a wedding planning business. It’s focused on corporate ventures. They have a contract to coordinate a show at the National Gallery in a few months and a launch for a new perfume.”

“You intend to become a gloried party planner instead of working in the financial world?” Her mother’s voice rose to fill the large room.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” Elizabeth Harris valued wealth and appearance. There is no way her mother would understand her need to seek a different life.
 

Her mother’s voice was brittle and harsh sounding. “You are just like your father. You are so secretive and selfish. You only do things that benefit you instead of thinking about your family.”
 

Anna stood up. If she stayed longer, it would turn into a contest of wills with her mother trying to beat her down.

Her mother’s hand tightened on her teacup, causing it to rattle. “You’ll be broke within a fortnight and I won’t give you a pence towards your mortgage payments.”

Anna knew enough to have contingency plans in place. Her mother was not one for helping out or supporting a new idea.

“I’ve already sold my flat. I understand that this venture comes with risk, but if it doesn’t work out then I’ll try something else.”

Her mother put her hand on her forehead. “If you cared for me at all then you wouldn’t make a mockery of my sacrifices by throwing it all away.”

She had heard this line of guilt so many times that it washed over her without hitting its mark. Parents were expected to educate their children and make sacrifices. She would do the same one day for her children.

She needed to be alone. “I’ll text you my new address and work information.”

Her mother stood. “You shouldn’t have sold your flat. It was in one of the best buildings in London.”

She did sell it. If she held onto it, it would have kept her locked in a career path that she had no interest in. “I wouldn’t have been able to afford the mortgage on the small salary that I’ll earn for a while.”

“You are making a colossal mistake.” Her mother’s negativity washed over her.

She kept her voice neutral. “It’s mine to make, mother.”

Anna could feel the tension in every muscle of her body. Walking out the front door, she wished their relationship could be less adversarial. She cared for her mother, but the bitter woman saw the world so differently. Elizabeth Harris cared about appearances. Her father deceiving them with his double life hadn’t helped. Her mother had only become more rigid and unforgiving. Being raised as an only child put enormous pressure on Anna to succeed. She was a natural scholar, so it became a game to achieve academic excellence. But she needed to figure out what would bring her fulfillment and happiness.
 

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