“Mrs. Solveig, it’s Aleksander Lind. My apologies for calling this late.”
“Yes, and?”
He kept a smile pasted on his face through sheer will and forced an upbeat note into his voice. “The meeting with your granddaughter has been arranged.”
His statement was met with a sharp inhalation. “Really?”
He nodded although she couldn’t see him. “Yes, I just got off the phone?—”
“You spoke to my granddaughter?” Her hope and excitement traveled across their connection.
“No, I spoke to her sister.”
“That woman isn’t her sister,” Mrs. Solveig snapped.
Aleks contained his sigh. Expressing his frustration would only anger her further. That Dizzie’s living relatives denied her closest relationship struck him as unbearably sad. Family should be cherished. Celebrated.
He’d learned early never to argue with Mrs. Solveig. She had very set ideas on how the world should work and didn’t respond well when that worldview was challenged. “Portia Tremaine is acting in h— in your granddaughter’s stead in this matter.”
“I don’t believe you!”
It was going to be one of those days. Mrs. Solveig required kid-glove treatment when she was like this. Which was difficult since he had to be laser-focused on their conversation. “Would you like me to conference her in?”
“Dizzie?” There was a world of emotion in that single word.
Aleks cursed his lack of clarity. It would only make this more difficult. “No, ma’am. I only have contact information for Ms. Tremaine.”
“That’s what I get for sending someone with only half a brain to do such important work.”
He ignored the sting of her words. Defending himself never ended well. Instead, he waited her out, mostly sure that she would relent.
“Fine.” She huffed out on a sigh. “Add the bitch to our conversation.”
“I’ll need to put you on hold. One moment, please.” He put the call on hold without receiving her permission. She’d be mad, but he needed a moment to think.
He called Portia and willed her to pick up.
“Aleks, I didn’t expect to hear from you again.”
She sounded happy to hear from him. That wouldn’t last. “Hello, Portia. I have a request and it isn’t a pleasant one.”
“That sounds ominous.” Her tone changed and he swore he could hear her frown.
He grimaced. “It is.” He didn’t want to lie to her. “I called the Solveigs to apprise them of the meeting and Mrs. Solveig does not believe that you’re working on Dizzie’s behalf.”
“Of course she doesn’t.”
If the sound from the other end of the line had come from anyone else, he would have called it a snort. But he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around Portia Tremaine snorting. Even the sexy, mussed-up Portia from the other morning.
“I have Mrs. Solveig on the other line. I offered to conference you in to confirm your role. Will you?”
A strangled laugh met his request. “You wantmeto helpyouconvince the Solveigs that I’m ontheir sidewith regards to their granddaughter?”
Shit. Was that what he was asking? “Put like that, it does sound a little... ” He hesitated. “Suspect.”
“Just a little.” She paused and he was sure that she was going to refuse his request. “Sure. Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Thanks. I owe you.” The words slipped out before he could fully process the ramifications. The silence on the other end told him Portia was doing her own processing.
