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When I reach the edge of the cliff, just beside the pathway that begins to slope down from here to the boathouse, I stare out into the ocean. It is still extremely windy outside, with the chilly air ripping at my clothes and tussling my hair.
The sea is especially wild right now, with the sun slanting behind me, indicating that it will soon be noon. I squint out into the horizon and think about why I am here.
Though I detest Talia and everything that she represents, she alone has the key to the Morgan empire growing inside her. Remembering that is hard, especially when I can’t even talk to her without it turning into a fight and me storming out of the room. I must focus my anger.
If I want to lead the company and bring oil up from the depths of the coast here, I must think strategically rather than letting Talia turn my head. She seems to know just what buttons to push to arouse my rage.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. Then I pull my cell phone from my pocket and text my assistant, Rob.
I need the team of stylists right now. Make it happen.
I take a final breath in and slip the phone back into my breast pocket without waiting for a response.
I have a tangible goal. I need to marry this woman and claim my rightful place as heir to the family fortune. I can’t let anything, or anyone get in my way.
I walk back to the house, and Talia is in the kitchen, eating a salad with sliced chicken breast and roasted chickpeas piled high on top of it. She is sitting at a long, wooden table with a metal mixing bowl and a fork, diligently eating forkfuls.
She glances at me, but I don’t say a word. Instead, I open the refrigerator myself and frown as I pull out the various makings of a sandwich. I turn back around and find her watching me carry the ingredients to a counter with a hint of surprise in her eyes.
"What?" I ask.
She shrugs. "I never thought that I would see you constructing your own meal, that’s all."
I pull two thick slices of bread out of a bag and put them down on the counter. "I would usually ask Alastair to do it, but he seems to be otherwise occupied somewhere."
"Is Alastair the butler?"
I nod. "He’s been with our family for fifteen years. He is very competent at his job."
She stabs a piece of lettuce with her fork and nods slowly. "I think that’s the first time that you have spoken highly of a servant in front of me."
I give a bark of laughter. "Are you kidding? The servants all around me are the only people who are good at their jobs. All the other corporate executives that flit around, hoping to lick Remy’s boots, are basically useless."
Done with her lunch, she stands up and gives me a considering look. "It’s interesting to know that you think that."
She picks up her bowl and carries it to the sink, leaving it there for a moment. She looks around, hesitating.
"Do you need help with something?" I asked dryly.
She huffs and crosses her arms. "I was just trying to decide if Alistair would prefer me to leave the salad there or if he would want me to put the leftovers in a Tupperware or something."
I give her a puzzled look. "What do you mean? Just throw the salad away if you are done eating it."
"What if I just want to save it for later? I don’t want to waste food."
I roll my eyes. "It’s just a little salad. Leave it on the counter. When you are hungry again, ask Alastair to make you another. Or something else. We’re not exactly conserving our chickpeas here in the Morgan family."
She looks at me, dead serious. "I don’t think that you realize how many people in the world would kill to have what you have. Just because you have plenty of food does not mean that you should throw it away. You should be more grateful than that."
Putting together my sandwich, I give her a long glance. "I think that I’m doing just fine."
Her mouth bunches, but she just shakes her head and tosses her hair over her shoulders on her way out of the kitchen. I stop her before she leaves the room.
"Wait just a second."
Her back straightens, and she stops but doesn’t turn around.
I press on. "I think we can both agree that your way of dressing does not fit into my world. A whole team of stylists is coming here to help you more fully commit to the new role you’re going to have to take on."
