Page 144 of This Bitter Sweet Temptation
Absolutely not.
I’m going to speak with the man himself, and I’m not about to let some underpaid assistant brush me aside with a vague callback promise.
Nope. I don’t want him prepared, rehearsing his lies.
I lean back in my chair.
“No, thank you,” I say flatly. “I’d like to speak to Mr. Fairfax directly.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible at this hour,” the woman’s voice buzzes.
“And I’m sure you can find a way around that.” I check through my research again. “What’s the number of his personal assistant?”
“Sir, I—”
“This is very important. Critical. It concerns a very lucrative deal he let slip through his fingers recently. I want to speak with himnow, not tomorrow.”
I wait as she thinks, feeling the fear building in the silence.
Presumably, everyone in his office knows something about the Hera Egg and his failure to clinch the deal.
A man like that doesn’t go down easy without making everybody else’s lives miserable. Something in his eyes told me.
Sly, oily, clever.
Proud.
He must’ve been seething when Cleo told him to pound sand. I just hope he didn’t take it out on his son, who seemed like a nice kid.
I’m still mad that he tried to buffalo us with that contrived setup. A ‘risk’ without the right papers.
Like hell. I’m no art collector, but I can smell bullshit like a bloodhound.
“One moment,” the woman clips. I hear pages rustling, a drawer opening, and then she rattles off a number I scribble down. “That’s his personal assistant, but he’s probably asleep. I doubt you’ll get through until morning, but you can try.”
“Thanks.”
I’m a little more confident.
If there’s one thing I know about PAs for arrogant, demanding men like him, they never sleep with their phones muted.
When I call, he’ll pick up.
He does, and we have the same kind of conversation.
He wants me to call the office.
I don’t want to.
He wants me to wait until Jasper Fairfax is awake for the day.
I’m not feeling that generous.
So I land his personal number—not just the one he uses for business—and then I start calling. Repeatedly.
“Hello? Who is this?” Fairfax sounds sharp and irritated. Guess we have one thing in common if he’s still awake at this hour.
“Holden Verity. We met when Miss Blackthorn came in.”
