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“I’m here for my own benefit,” he jokes. “I still own part of this company and my dividend better be good.” I roll my eyes because he knows exactly how little we’ll be able to give him.
We fall silent to listen as the head of finance breaks everything down so that later, he can show how to move forward. He’s the only one speaking until my ears pick up the soft whispers of another board member sitting a few seats away from me.
I suppress the groan that wants to leave my mouth when I realise exactly who’s talking with his chest puffed out and his arm thrown over his chair.
My eyes fall on Thomas Meyer, and I’m fairly certain the entire room is looking his way because it’s clear he wants everyone to hear what he has to say. I grind my teeth as he drones on. His voice is too loud to come across as a whisper.He must be boasting about something, I quickly conclude, or else he would have lowered his damn voice by now.
I didn’t have a say in who buys their way onto the board when my dad was still CEO. It took place before it was mine. It pains me that Thomas is part of my company, and the fact that the majority now needs to agree to kick him off and that hasn’t happened yet. So there he sits with his cocky gaze, acting like he’s completely untouchable.
I’ve never liked the guy. Thomas is cocky and flaunts his wealth. He talks down to people, treating them as nothing more than a machine, and he clearly feels everyone else is beneath him. He makes me uncomfortable because his life revolves around money, and he’ll do anything to get ahead.
He treats women as possessions — ones that need to look beautiful and have but one purpose in life: pleasing him sexually and eventually having his kids.
Disgusting prick.I glower at him.
“I wouldn’t have agreed to the deal if she wasn’t absolutely beautiful.” His words threaten to make my eyes roll. “Their financial status hasn’t been great for the last few months. He needs to be grateful that he still has his sister to offer.”
To offer? A human being isn’t an asset to trade or to sacrifice like a little lamb.
“Well, congratulations on your engagement,” the man next to Thomas says.
Poor girl is the only thing popping into my mind. Poor girl. No one deserves to be married to Thomas Meyer. She’ll be signing on for a horrible life with a husband that will treat her horribly.
“Well, the Clairwaters will have a lifetime to thank me,” Thomas says light-heartedly, but his words force my thoughts to come to an end. His words sink in slowly as my eyes zone in on Thomas Meyer, and I mull them over.
This is a fucking joke, right?
I’ve met Evangeline on multiple occasions and she carries herself with pride and strength. There’s no way a woman like her would settle for a deadweight like Thomas Meyer.
She sniffs out everything bad about someone the second she meets them. She knew straight away what I was after when I first met her and I was knocked down a few pegs. I was on my knees this morning because Evangeline is a wicked woman.
But Thomas? He’ll take that strength away from her, simply because he can.
Something starts to brew inside of me and it burns in the pit of my stomach. I can’t pinpoint exactly what I’m feeling, but it forces me to keep on staring at Thomas, to hear his words and grimace when they’re not suited for a gentleman.
At the same time, my mind flashes back to this morning. I analyse the situation, trying to understand if there was a skip in her step, a different light in her eyes, but I come up with nothing. Did I miss it, then?
“Evangeline Clairwater will have enough time to thank me and I even have some ideas how,” Thomas boasts with a large smile on his face as Evangeline’s situation shapes right in front of me, but while Thomas seems happy about it, I’m on the other end of the spectrum. I’m angry as hell.
How dare he speak about her that way. It is disgusting and it only proves, once again, how little respect this man has for women, and now, his future fiancée, my neighbour.
“Thomas,” I interrupt his conversation, and the room falls silent. He turns to look at me, a frown occupying his glare. “If you want to discuss your personal life, do so after this meeting.”
He glares at me for a second before turning to face the front as the speaker continues, but I can’t take my own advice to heart because my eyes don’t leave him. I need to understand why Evangeline would agree to marry Thomas the slimeball.
***
I open my front door with my key before I still and sneakily throw a glance over my shoulder. The lights are on in her house, and my shoulders tense when I scan her windows to try to catch her.
“Let it go, Chester,” I say to myself, turning back around. I should be eating dinner before crawling into bed to sleep this tiresome day away, but my stressed muscles don’t cooperate. Instead, I stand frozen on my front step with my hand still holding my key.
“It’s not your business,” I whisper, and I hope this time, it’ll convince me to move on. But my curious mind is already racing to answer the slew of questions that popped inside my head the minute Thomas Meyer uttered those words.
I barely know her, but still, it seems impossible that she would agree to marry someone like Thomas. Maybe it is because I hold Evangeline in a higher regard than both Thomas and her brother. Yet, I can’t wrap my mind around it, and I feel it in my bones that she'll occupy my thoughts even when I try to fall asleep tonight and I’ll have another sleepless night.
There’s something about her that makes it impossible for me to let my thoughts wander away from her.
“Fuck it,” I say loudly, pulling the door closed, and with a quick step, I’m halfway across the street, my heart pounding in my chest. I wipe my clammy hands on my creased trousers and stare at her doorbell with a newfound interest.
