A queasiness in my stomach was made up of the feeling of birds in a cage, scrabbling and flapping to get out. I glanced at Vanessa's email once more before I erased it. The Gilded Cage at 1 PM tomorrow. Even the restaurant name sounded like an ambush.
Alex's message went round and round in my brain: *I hope you are focusing solely on Archer today, Ms. Gray*.
Was he indeed tracking all that I was doing? Was he reading and opening my emails as soon as they reached the inbox? The thought sent a shiver down me but also generated an odd little buzz.
I struggled to focus on my Archer project for the rest of the day. I completed details on my designs and even had a decent planning session with Jason.
He kept shooting me anxious looks, clearly upset over the whole Vanessa affair. I just smiled at him, trying to look confident. I did not tell him about Alex's disgusting message. That was too personal, too disturbing to share.
"You sure you want to meet her?" Jason asked quietly as we walked back from the break room. "I meant what I said, that she's dangerous."
"I'll be careful," I vowed. "Perhaps I might learn something."
He sighed. "Just keep in mind, she always has an agenda for whatever she does. And it's never pleasant."
That night, I didn't sleep. I had nightmares of being stuck in a cage of gold with Alex on the outside and Vanessa lurking like a shark.
The next day, I spent an eternity deciding what to wear. Eventually, I settled on black trousers and a plain blue blouse, nothing garish, nothing sloppy.
I pulled my hair back into a neat bun, attempting to look less anxious than I felt.
At 12:45, I stood outside Blackwood Tower and waited for a taxi. The five-minute drive to the restaurant felt like I was about to be executed.
The Gilded Cage appeared nondescript from the exterior, merely frosted glass and dark wood. But when the host opened the door, pushing it aside, I found myself in another world.
It carried the aroma of expensive perfume and gourmet foods. There was relaxing jazz music for background.
All of the tables were placed in corners or covered with screens so discretion would not be possible. All of the individuals in the room were cover models for magazines. I stood there, absolutely out of place, dressed in my simple clothing.
"Sharp's reservation," I said to the host, trying to sound as if I belonged.
He nodded. "Ms. Sharp waits. This way."
He took me to a secluded booth in the corner. Vanessa was stunning in a designer suit that cost more than my rent.
Her blonde hair cascaded down in beautifully shaped waves, and her makeup was perfect. She smiled at me when she said hello, but her blue eyes, the same shade as Alex's, were cold and calculating.
"Olivia, baby, you've arrived," she answered in silky smooth voice. She motioned to the leather chair across from her. "Sit, please."
I settled into the leather chair, which felt like sitting in quicksand. "Thanks for inviting me over, Vanessa."
"Nonsense," she said, picking up her menu. "It's time we really got to know each other. Now that you're working so intimately with Alex." She said his name as if it were a challenge.
A waiter appeared and gave me a menu. Prices were staggering. I scanned quickly for the cheapest thing on the menu.
"Have you ordered?" Vanessa asked. "The lobster soup is amazing here. Though I always have the wagyu steak."
"I'm not that hungry," I said brusquely. "Maybe just a salad."
Vanessa's grin increased, something malevolent lurking in it. "Don't be ridiculous, Olivia. You're my guest. Order what you want. Alex Blackwood's newest pet project shouldn't be having just salad."
*Pet project*. Ouch. She was trying to make me feel inferior and belittle me. It almost worked.
"I'm a junior designer," I answered, my tone unyielding. "On a team project."
"Mmm, yes, the Archer campaign," she murmured, more softly this time. "So precious an account. Strange that Alex would put someone so. inexperienced. in such a precious spot, don't you agree?"
Her eyes were drilling into me, awaiting an answer. She'd asked me exactly because she wanted to see if I could get an explanation as to why Alex had chosen me.
"Mr. Blackwood enjoyed something in my portfolio," I answered, reciting his words. It sounded like a cop-out even to me.
Vanessa leaned forward, still smiling that perfect smile with those cold eyes. "Alex sees a lot of things, Olivia. Sometimes he sees opportunities. Sometimes he sees ways to. settle old scores."
*Old scores*. The bakery. Did she know about that? My heart was pounding. "I don't know what you mean."
She shrugged her hand in a dismissive wave. "Oh, just how business is, darling. Not always hard work and talent. Sometimes it's who you know. Or whom you cross."
She paused for effect. "Especially when you're dealing with someone as ruthless as Alexander Blackwood."
*Ruthless*. Jason had said the same of him. Was that the real Alex behind his sporadic display of niceness?
"Fair," I cautioned, remembering how he praised my concept.
Vanessa laughed, a soft sound free of humor. "Fair? Oh, Olivia, there is still much you have to learn. Alex is fair like a tiger is fair to a gazelle. Effective, maybe. But always, always looking out for himself."
She had bought us both wine without asking me if I wanted it. I hadn't said anything. My hands were shaking and I needed something to grip.
"He likes you, though?" Vanessa asked, her brow furrowed as the waiter topped off our wine glasses. "Puts you on Archer, gives you his number."
I breathed in deeply. "He didn't give me his number," I lied automatically. It was a deceit, as if I were withholding something from her.
Vanessa cocked an eyebrow. "Didn't he? Strange. I've heard he's been texting you nonstop since you started." She sipped her wine, her eyes on me like daggers. "Maybe my sources were incorrect."
I was reddened in the face. How did she know we were texting? Was she following him? Me? That was really weird to think about.
"We're just doing the Archer account," I mimicked, trying to sound sincere. "It's a huge campaign, so there's a lot of to-and-from."
Vanessa leaned back in her chair, as if she knew I was lying. "Oh, sure. Work. With Alex, there's always work until there isn't." She spoke quietly. "He used to tell me all of his things, you know. His plans, his secrets, the people he was going to... Acquire."
*Acquire*. Hurt. Just as I hurt over the word had in that story about my family's bakery.
"Sometimes," Vanessa continued, now barely above a whisper, "he intimidates people for very particular reasons. Not always for business reasons."
Was I the one she was talking about? Was this her subtle way of saying she knew what had happened with the bakery?
"Listen, Vanessa," I replied, trying to be honest and scared. "Why did you actually invite me here? This isn't a friendly lunch, is it?"
Her smile lingered on her face, but her eyes turned even icier. "Good girl. No, Olivia, it isn't. I wanted to meet the woman who's now got Alex Blackwood interested. And I wanted to offer you some advice. A warning, perhaps."
She hesitated, tension thickening in the air. "Alex is a man you have to be careful around, Olivia. He takes what he wants and destroys anything that crosses his path. Including human life." Her voice softened even more. "He destroyed me, you know. Or at least tried to."
She said the same thing as Jason, but in a different way. Revealing her secrets to her father. But making it more personal. More emotional.
"He dumped us," Vanessa continued, venom spilling over in her voice, "and picked his friends over me. Don't think that he will do the same to you."
Was this a threat? Not to be a victim of him? Or did she test whether I was one?
I did not have time to respond before Vanessa's eyes swept over my back. Her expression changed, something flashing across her and then the smile back on her lips, this time harder.
"Speak of the devil," she breathed, raising her glass a fraction.
My blood was cold. Alex was there. I could not turn around, could not move. But I could feel him looming over me, that overpowering strength he always seemed to bear.
"Enjoying your lunch, ladies?" a voice said from behind me, colder than ever before I'd heard him say. Alexander Blackwood. Present. Here.