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“It’s Elise, not Elle, and thanks, I like it,” I state defiantly. I wonder what his game is this time.
For the past two years he has been in my face about the business. I know the ins and outs of my father’s last wishes and the company’s constitution. I remember Harold was seething when my father’s will was read out and he found out about all of the changes made before his death. The changes basically prevent Harold from taking over a controlling stake in the company while I am still alive. As the true CEO, I am the only one with the power to make any constitution changes in the future, including any that would allow him to buy my shares. This is something that he has hounded me about for the past year or so.
I was recently informed by a number of the directors that he has been working to increase his stake in the company and currently owns a 40% share, but as the majority shareholder who holds 60% of the company, I’m not looking to give up my controlling stake and this is a decision that dear old Uncle Harry can’t accept.
Before I moved out here, he would constantly ask me if I had changed my mind. This is the first time he has visited me since I moved to the opposite side of the country, though.
“What’s this about, Uncle Harry?”
I’m annoyed at his presence now, knowing exactly why he has gone out of his way to visit.
“I was in New York for business and thought I’d pop in to check on you. You are very important to me, you know.” His words sound sincere, but they are lined with distaste. “I also wanted to check whether you had considered my buy-out proposal any further since the last time we spoke.”
As I said, he can’t accept that I’m not interested.
With the most impeccable timing in the world, there is another knock at the door and this time I know it must be Brax. I open the door and he has a gorgeous smile on his face, holding a pizza box from the same pizzeria from our first date. As he leans in to give me a welcoming kiss, he spots Harry over my shoulder and suddenly tenses up.
What’s the matter with him? I hope he doesn’t think there is anything gross going on.
“Brax, this is Harry Brimstone, the CEO of Brightlight Industries, my father’s company. He was friends with my father,” I explain, totally confused by Brax’s suddenly stoic behavior.
He shuts the door as he enters, walking straight past Uncle Harry when he holds his hand out to shake Brax’s. Wow, this is totally unlike Brax. He’s never rude to anyone. Harry tilts his head a bit, like he is trying to work out who Brax is, before returning his attention back to me.
“Elise, dear. I must get going, but do ring me if you change your mind. It can all be settled rather quickly when you make the right decision,” he says to me quietly, pulling me in for an awkward hug. I jerk myself away from him quickly and make my way to the front door to show him the way out.
Once he has gone and the door is closed and locked, I walk straight into the kitchen and stand on the opposite side of the counter to Brax, glaring at him. “What was that all about?”
All he does is shrug his shoulders. “I don’t like him. He seems sketchy.”
I can’t believe he is being so nonchalant about his behavior. He’s never met Uncle Harry before and he’s acting like he can’t stand the man. Before I can stew about it any longer he puts his hand behind my neck and pulls me towards him, giving me the most spine tingling kiss I’ve ever had. It’s hot, desperate, and there is no doubt that his intention is to shut me up on the matter.
It works.
He pulls away, and I just stare at him. He has literally just kissed me speechless.
After demolishing a whole pizza between us, we attempt to watch Dirty Dancing. I say attempt because we manage to watch ten minutes of the movie before I am pushed down on the sofa by Brax and we proceed to make out like teenagers.
Considering that up until three weeks ago I would avoid any contact with other people, I’m finding this all comes very naturally to me. Brax makes it easy to relax and helps stop me from thinking too much. I’ve never had anyone make me feel the way he does. From the first moment I saw him in class, I could feel him. He was like a small light shining through the darkness that was my life. My dark side has been all I’ve known for the past three years, so any light seems to shine brighter. I’m scared if I open up to Brax and tell him what I’ve been through, he might run the other away. Is it better to tell him and lose him now, or wait until we’re beyond the point of no return and have his rejection crush me?
Sleeping in bed later that night, I have a nightmare far worse than any I’ve had before. I wake up at 2 a.m. shaking and covered in sweat. Even though I’m awake, I still feel like something is closing in on me. I’ve never had one as bad as this before. I grab my phone and quickly text Brax.
Elle: I think I need you to come back.
Instead of texting me back, my phone starts ringing straight away and the caller ID shows that it is him.
“Hello?” I answer shakily, still reeling.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” he asks. I can hear the worry in his voice.
“Sorry for waking you up. I just had a bad dream, and I’m feeling a bit unsettled.” I feel really bad for disturbing him now because he sounds really worried about me.
“It’s okay, hon. I’m here for you if you need me. I’m just getting dressed now and I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll knock on the door twice when I get there.”
I sigh with relief. “Thank you. I don’t know why it’s affected me so much this time.” This was definitely the worse dream I’ve had so far.
“See you soon, babe. I’m leaving now,” he says and hangs up.
I get out of bed, put some pajama shorts on, then head to the kitchen to get some water. I walk over to the loveseat next to my front window and look out into the night. I see that car again, the black Honda that has been there off and on for over three weeks now. This is getting to be beyond a joke. I wonder if I should speak to the security people at Brightlight to get them to look into it. I’m starting to wonder if the media is interested in me again now that I’m getting close to inheriting Brightlight. They’ve always been relentless in the past when it came to the ‘Reclusive Halliwell Heiress.’
Straight after the murders the media were ruthless in their pursuit of me, and the news articles were just as bad.
Everywhere I went, there would be a camera. It was really bad when the house was sold. There were so many people who came through solely because it was known as the ‘Halliwell Murder House’. Who wants their childhood home branded like that? I sold it because there was no way I was ever setting foot back inside that house again. Apart from my mother’s jewelry and some family heirlooms, everything was sold or destroyed. My happy childhood memories of my father, mother and little sister were ripped away in a moment by an unknown killer.
