‘Do you think I would ever allow my daughter to become serious with a man likeyou?’ He’d jabbed a finger in Theo’s direction. ‘You are scum, from the darkest slums of the street. The Georgiadeses might have been fooled by your business acumen, but what do I care for that? My daughter can trace her lineage back to William the Conqueror, and who the hell are you? Do you even know, boy? How dare you so much as look at her, much less touch her. Much less think you have any right to get serious about her. If you ever speak to Annie again, you’ll be sorry.’
It had gone on, and on, in that vein, but Theo had blocked most of it out by then. He’d focused on assuming a mask of non-concern, sneering with half of his lip—and his insolence only angered Elliot further, so in the end, he was all but threatening to call the police for the very fact that Theo had once upon a time lived rough.
Theo hadn’t taken the threat seriously. What could Elliot Langley do to him, after all? By then, Theo had been worth an absolute fortune, and in dating Annie, he wasn’t breaking any laws. It wasn’t the threat that shocked him, so much as the tone of his voice. The entitlement of the man had chilled Theo’s blood, reminding him of how often he’d felt ashamed of his life on the streets, when he would walk past those incredible hotelsand have wealthy couples turn up their noses at the sight of him. He remembered one such person making a cruel remark about the way he smelled. Another threw a half-eaten sandwich at him, where he sat on the footpath. And everything Elliot Langley said, in that conversation, brought it all back, and made Theo realise: the Langleys were just as bad as those people had been.
But it was Annie’s betrayal that had stung, worst of all. Annie’s betrayal that had made him feel foolish and stupid for ever having believed she was different to the rest of those moneyed bastards. When the next morning she arrived and told him it was over—coldly determined—he’d known instantly what her reasoning was. She was dumping him because her father had found out about them and insisted upon it. And Annie hadn’t had the strength of character to stand up for their relationship. Whatever promises she’d made, whatever he’d thought they’d shared, had just been a construct of his mind. Annie wasn’t what he’d believed: she was just as superficial and snobby as her parents.
He swore that was the last he’d ever see of her, no matter what, and he’d stuck firm to that. He’d sold the Georgiades’s house, having no interest in returning there, lest he happen to run into Annie again—or her father. He’d put her from his mind, focusing everything on business, his success, and yes, on other women. Yet now, after a brief ten-minute conversation in an overcrowded bar, she was suddenly back, bursting through the partitions of his brain just as quickly as before, taking over his thoughts in a way he bitterly resented.
He glared at the sweeping views of Sydney Harbour afforded by his penthouse suite, before finally giving up on resisting. He stalked across to his laptop and stabbed in the USB drive. He had fully intended to throw it out, but whenever his hand curved around the plastic to do just that, he saw the anguish in her eyes, heard the plea in her voice, and he shoved it back into his pocket.
Fine.
So he’d take a look.
What harm was there in seeing what her family’s business was about? Even when he knew one thing for absolute certain: he would never, in a billion years, for all the money in the world, get in bed with the enemy. And that’s what the Langleys were, and always would be, to him.
Annie really hadn’t expected to hear from him again. His face had been the definition of immutable, his eyes chilling, his jaw locked in an expression that might as well have been a verbalised rejection.
Yet the next afternoon, his assistant had reached out to arrange a meeting. Annie could well have been knocked over with a feather, but she’d kept her voice as steady as possible as she’d agreed to the details.
Not in an office, as she’d expected, but in the penthouse apartment Theo was based out of while overseeing the crucial phase of development approvals and design for a high-rise in the CBD.
A keycard had been left for her at the front desk, so that she could access his private level of the hotel, and as the elevator whooshed Annie upwards, she barely had twelve seconds to contemplate what this meeting would involve, and to quell her nerves.
She kept her focus on the necessity of this though, and on the hope that his agreeing to meet was a positive sign. She doubted he’d have arranged a meeting just to hand back the USB.
Yet, with Theo, and the way he’d been the other night, the animosity that had sparked from him to her, she couldn’t rightly say what she was expecting when the elevator opened to reveal a huge tiled foyer with only a single door in it. She moved towardsit a little hesitantly, cleared her throat then lifted her hand to knock, before realising there was a doorbell. She pressed it once, then stepped back and waited, hands fidgeting at her sides.
She was just about to ring the doorbell again when the door was pulled inwards and Theo was revealed on the other side, dressed almost the same as the other night—in a suit that had been dressed down. This time he wore no shoes, as well.
She was glad she’d opted to buy herself a suit—she felt better seeing him again dressed like this: for business. The navy pants were wide-legged, teamed with spike heels, and she’d tucked a cream-coloured blouse into them before adding the tailored blazer. Her hair she’d pulled into a neat pony tail, to remove the temptation to toy with it as much as possible.
‘Annie,’ he said, with a slight nod. It was a slightly better greeting than the night before. He gestured with his hand for her to enter the penthouse and she hesitated for only a millisecond before forcing herself to move through the door, ignoring the hint of his masculine fragrance she caught as she passed him.
Inside, she was immediately hit by the stunning view of the harbour, first, with the world-famous opera house right in front of her, and then, inside the apartment, the luxury of the furnishings. Not a cent had been spared in creating the kind of home away from home that only the world’s wealthiest could possibly afford.
‘Not bad,’ she said, lips pulling to the side, trying to remember the Theo she’d known who’d been so averse to obvious signs of wealth, who’d virtually equated extravagance with the gutter. She turned to face him, and her stomach twisted viscerally. ‘I was surprised to hear from you.’
His features shifted, ever so slightly, in a sort of acknowledgement of that.
‘I take it you looked at the financials?’
‘I looked at them, yes.’ He crossed the room, so he was standing toe to toe with her, his nostrils flaring as he looked into her face. ‘The company is in a mess.’
She winced. ‘I know.’
‘What happened?’
She let out an uneven breath as she tried to work out how to explain it all—how her father had barely been able to function after his wife—Annie’s mother’s—death, and so Annie had done her best to step into the breach. She’d also been grieving though—she’d barely recovered from the blow of losing Theo, and then her mother had died. So she’d hired a temporary business manager to work with her, but it had all gone pear-shaped.
‘It’s my fault,’ she said, slowly, heavily, the admission hurting to say. ‘I thought I could handle it, but I messed up, and if I don’t fix it, if I can’t fix it…’
He didn’t say anything, but she felt the force of his gaze on her face. She refused to cry in front of him, but she did sniff a little, to stave off the emotions that were rioting through her.
‘Why did you think I would be interested in this?’
She made herself meet his eyes. ‘Because you used to care for me, and I thought there might be some part of you that still does.’