Cole Cameron's Revenge

Cole shook his head, went on reading. Then, slowly, he raised his head and stared at the attorney.

“What the hell…?”

“I know,” Jergen muttered. “Incredible, isn’t it?”

“What?” Faith said. “What’s incredible?”

Neither man answered. Jergen folded his hands behind him and rose up and down on his toes. Cole walked to the window and tilted the folder into the sunlight, as if that might help him make better sense out of the pages inside it.

“Why?” He swung toward the lawyer. “Jergen? Explain it to me.”

“I can’t, sir. All I can do is show you the dates and the figures but if you mean, explain how your brother got himself into such a mess…I can’t do that.”

“What are you talking about?” Faith stared from one man to the other. She knew they’d all but forgotten her existence just as she knew that whatever was happening in this office threatened all her dreams for Peter’s happiness. “What’s in that folder, Mr. Jergen?”

“It’s rather complicated, Mrs. Cameron. All you need to know is—”

“All you need to know,” she said calmly, even though she was trembling inside, “is that taking that tone with me is a mistake. I am your client. You work for me, not for Cole Cameron, or have you forgotten that?” She strode to Cole and grabbed the folder. She expected resistance but he let her take it, even smiled a little when she did.

“Read it and weep, baby.”

She opened the folder and stared blindly at the first page. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cole hitch a hip onto the window ledge and fold his arms. He looked amused, as if what was about to happen would be entertaining. She wanted to fling something in his arrogant face. Everything in her yearned to tell him what he could do with the folder as well as the money but that was her pride whispering in her ear and pride meant nothing. It hadn’t, not for years.

Peter was the only thing that mattered. Thinking of him, concentrating on how much she loved him, gave her the focus she needed. Faith stared at the page until it stopped being a blur. Columns of numbers jumped out at her. Purchases. Sales. Balances. It went on for page after page, the balances getting smaller and smaller, the accounts closing down. Finally, she looked up, seeking help from Jergen, but Cole had moved. He was standing directly in front of her, and his frigid eyes locked onto hers.

“Cole?” She held the papers out toward him. Her hand trembled. “What is this?”

“Your future,” he said, almost gently. “Look at the last line.”

She did. Total balance, seven hundred eighty-two dollars and…

“Those are your assets, darling.” His voice was a purr. “The payoff. Not quite what you’d been expecting, is it?”

He was standing too close, invading her space. She knew it was deliberate, that he meant to throw her off balance, and he was succeeding. She didn’t like having him so near, didn’t want to smell the scent of his cologne, something elusive that went with the expensive suit. Tiny lines radiated out from the corners of his eyes. The years had bruised him, as she knew they’d bruised her. She was worn down by gossip, exhausted by deceitful slurs but he—he had become harder and more dangerously masculine than ever, watching her with a little smile she longed to slap from his face.

A chill raced through her blood. She took a step back and fought to keep her tone steady.

“I’d like an explanation, Mr. Jergen. Is this supposed to be all that remains of my husband’s estate?”

“Late husband,” Cole said. “Ted’s not around to play your games anymore.”

“Mr. Jergen,” Faith said, ignoring Cole, “surely there are other assets. What happened to them?”

“It’s complicated.” Jergen patted her arm. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Faith—”

“Then simplify it,” she said, jerking away from him. “And please remember that my name is Mrs. Cameron.”

She heard Cole laugh but she didn’t care. She was tired of being patronized and she kept her eyes on the lawyer until he flushed.

“As you wish, Mrs. Cameron. In brief, your husband lost everything in the market.”

“What market? Stocks, you mean? But Ted wasn’t a gambler.”

“No. He was a prudent investor—at least, he was until a couple of years ago. Then he began buying technology IPOs. Initial public offerings, Mrs. Cameron, in a sector where people were making fortunes overnight.”

“Go on.” Faith folded her arms. Maybe that would keep anyone from noticing that her heart was trying to pound its way out of her chest. “He invested lots of money and made lots of money. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, if your stocks keep escalating in value, or if you sell out in time. Your late husband made some errors in judgment. His stocks fell, but he kept buying. I suppose he thought he’d recoup. And—”

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