She shrugs. “Don’t know. They asked for you by name though.”
I take the phone cautiously and bring it to my ear. Justine heads to the break room, probably to clean our mess so we can get our massage tables ready for our clients.
We work in the massage section of the Sunshine Spa—a local Spa chain owned by Clara St. Pierre, a snobbish woman who looks too much like Cruella de Vil. From the cartoon, not the live action. Glenn Close is gorgeous. Clara? She sort of resembles a rat. But she’s got millions, and you know how that goes.
“Hello?” I finally say.
“Seraphine Sinclair?”
I don’t recognize the voice on the other end. It’s a deep timber, smoky with a slight rasp to it. Too old to be any friend of mine or Harrison’s, not that any of his friends would call me, but you never know.
“It’s just Sera, but yes, this is her. Who is this?”
“My name is Elliot Caldwell—”
He continues to speak, but his words are gibberish through the rushing blood in my ears. Elliot Caldwell of Caldwell Enterprises. One of the most powerful and the most richest men in the city. Elliot Caldwell as in the father of Harrison Caldwell. Myex-boyfriend’sfather.
There isn’t a single reason I can come up with as to why this man is calling me—and here, at my job, of all places. The entire two years that I dated Harrison, I never even saw them share a phone call. No visits. No holidays. No birthday calls. Harrison mentioned speaking to him a few times, but nothingthat I witnessed. So, for all I know, it could have been another one of his lies.
Yes, I knewwhohis father was—how could I not? Everyone in the surrounding area knows Elliot Caldwell. But because they didn’t speak on a regular basis and I never met him, I guess I sort of… forgot? Overlooked it? Chose to ignore it in case of a situation like this?
He’s a powerful man in a big city. Not someone you want to mess with, I’m sure. Not in the sense of like the mafia, though with the money he has, I’m sure if he wanted someone to go missing, they would. And fingers would never point back to him.
Oh no, this could be really bad.
“Miss Sinclair?” he says impatiently from the other side of the phone.
“I’m here!” I blurt out. “I’m sorry, there was a, uh, customer. Hold please.”
I put the phone to my chest and take a moment to breathe.
Upsetting this man is a bad idea. What if he is going to kill me for what I saw? If it got out that his son is sleeping with his daughter, that could be bad. Stepsiblings or not, I can’t imagine that being good for his company’s name. It would probably bereallybad, actually. Tie a concrete block to my foot and toss my unconscious body into the bay kind of bad.
Why didn’t I think of this until now? Why hadn’t I thought of the consequences of my actions? Threatening Harrison when I walked out of his condo was a terrible mistake, but notsomething I would actually do. My words were said in the heat of the moment. I didn’t even remember if I’d said anything threatening to him until this very moment, now that my life is flashing before my eyes.
“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
My gaze darts to Justine, who looks terrified on my behalf, and I shake my head, then bring the phone back to my ear.
“I’m so sorry about that, Mr. Caldwell.” I ignore the way Justine’s eyes go wide as saucers and force my voice to stop freaking trembling! Though it doesn’t really work. “What can I do for you?”
“I said I spoke with Mrs. St. Pierre, and she approved for you to make a house call for me during your shift tomorrow.”
“House call?” I squeak out. “For like… a private massage?”
“Yes, Miss Sinclair. A house call. For a private massage.”
“Toyourhouse?”
“Are you ill?” he asks in a near growl.
I slap my hand on my forehead. “No, sorry. Just, um… okay. Yes. I can do that.” I nod, forcing the words out of my mouth. “I can totally do this. Just send me the address and I will be there.”
“It’s already been emailed to the company address. Please do not be late.”
The phone clicks, telling me the call ended. I slowly bring the phone back to the receiver and sink into the chair, my stomach threatening to expel everything I just ate.
“Well, what happened?” Justine urges.
