Page 71 of The Heart You Kept

What will I wear?

CHAPTER TWELVE

ALORA

“With the lamp, that will be two hundred and eighty euros please.” I ring up the purchases on the cash register. The bell over the door chimes and I look up to see two men in black suits walking in; they are big and burly and stand to the side as if waiting for something.

Edward’s drivers are here and they are waiting for me. After the longest week in history, it’s 1 p.m. on Friday.

Nerves dance in my stomach as I finish up the sale. This is just a work transaction, calm, calm, calm, I am totally fucking calm.

I walk over to the two men and play dumb. “May I help you?”

“Miss Sorenson?” one man asks.

“Yes.”

“We’re here on behalf of Mr. Prescott to collect you. My name is Philippe, and this is Merrick.”

“Oh.” I act surprised like I forgot this was even happening. “I won’t be a moment, I’ll meet you out the front.” I glance back toward Jonty and Helene behind the desk to make sure they aren’t listening in. I’ve decided I’m not telling anyone about this, not even Helene. That way there’s no chance of it getting out or misconstrued. “Would you mind driving around the corner and waiting for me please?”

The men glance up at my staff as they connect the dots. “Of course.” They leave and I go back to the counter and make myself appear busy as I tidy. I put the pens in the holder and change the cash register receipt roll.

“I have that meeting this afternoon, remember?” I tell them.

“Yes.” They tidy alongside of me. “You better go or you’re going to be late.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure thing.”

I go out the back and run to the bathroom, I quickly take out my compact and fix my makeup, brush my teeth, reapply my red lipstick and try to calm my nerves.

“Bye,” I say casually as I walk out the front doors. I make my way around the corner and see the blacked-out Bentley parked to the side.

Of course he has a Bentley.

One of the men is standing by the building, and when he sees me coming he walks forward and opens the back door for me. “Good afternoon, Miss Sorenson.” He smiles.

“Good afternoon.” I slide into the back seat.

Wow….

The leather interior is a cherry maroon color and the doors are all fancy wood paneling.

Jeez, it doesn’t feel like a car, it feels like a step back in time to royalty.

He does have a title….

“What kind of car is this?” I ask as my eyes roam around the luxury.

“A Bentley Mulliner Bacalar,” one of them replies casually.

“It’s nice.” I squirm in my seat as I rub my fingers over the wood trim on the door.

“It is.” They keep their eyes to the front and I get the feeling that making light conversation is not high on their priority list.

I subtly take out my phone and type into Google: