CHAPTER 4

Samantha placed her keys on a small crystal bowl and sat on the couch, sighing contentedly on a Monday afternoon. She smiled gratefully when Hannah placed a glass of water on the center table before walking off.

She heard her phone rang and she looked at the screen before answering the call.

“I just arrived,” she answered after saying hello to Ara. “Do you want to come over? Hannah’s making her famous Chicken Curry.”

“I’m still at the office reviewing some contracts,” Ara responded. “I just called to check if you have arrived at the townhouse.”

“I arrived right before lunch but met with Francine to check on the shelter before eating,” Sam answered as she gently took off her shoes and massaged her feet, tired from walking around the mall with her best friend. “She’s sending over a pregnant dog for me to foster until she has her puppies.”

“I’m sure that she’s one lucky mama,” Ara mused with a smile in her voice. “Just don’t tell Jess or she’ll be begging me to letting her stay there until the pups will come. We have enough dogs and cats running at the backyard.”

“Took after her grandfather,” Sam said. “If Maxwell’s alive, he might take them all in.”

Ara laughed at the other end of the line before saying goodbye.

When Sam was about to place her phone down, it rang again and she stared at the screen calmly, which only showed the two words.

Private Number.

“Hello?” Sam finally answered.

“Mrs. Samantha Cameron please.”

A rough and cold voice came from the other end of the line.

“This is she,” she immediately responded, sitting up straight. She already has a feeling about the person on the other line basing on the tone. “May I know who’s calling me?”

“Mrs. Cameron, this is Damian McLaren,” the caller said, his voice like steel. There was a moment of silence for a few seconds. “If I remember correctly, my secretary called you last Saturday for a meeting this morning to which you had confirmed.”

“Is this how you treat those setting up appointments for you, Mrs. Cameron?!”

Samantha’s eyebrows shot up and she could feel her face getting red from the insult she heard on the other line.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. McLaren,” she finally replied formally and calmly. “Maybe it’s best for you to educate your secretary to get my confirmation first before ending the call. I don’t remember agreeing.”

“I will make sure to call his attention on that oversight,” he returned steadily. “I have a clear schedule tomorrow at 10 in the morning, Mrs. Cameron. Will this schedule be suitable for you to meet at my office?”

“Tomorrow morning at 10 will be fine,” Samantha said.

“Very well,” Damian then said. “I’m sure you know the address here. I’ll inform the reception at the ground floor to send you up immediately when you arrive tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” she responded and ended the call.

Her brows furrowed at the cold conversation she just had with the famous Damian McLaren before finally grimacing at the meeting she will be having with him tomorrow.

“A$$hole,” she muttered as she stood up and padded, barefoot towards the space below the stairs and started arranging a nest for the foster dog that will be arriving in a few hours. “Brace yourself, Sam. Ara did warn you about that man and I’m pretty sure he also knows your background.”

The following day, after carefully deciding on her attire, Sam thanked her driver when he gently escorted her out of the back of the car after stopping in front of McLaren Tower.

“Thanks, Steven,” Sam said gratefully. “I’ll call you when I’m heading down.”

“Not a problem,” Steven assured. He gave her an encouraging smile. “You’ll do great, Sam. I’m sure Mr. Cameron will be pleased to see you finally back in the business world.”

I hope so, she thought as she entered one big glass doors, nodding when security greeted her. She approached the Reception Counter, her eyes recognizing the look the women had on their faces.

“Good morning. I have a meeting with Mr. McLaren at ten in his office,” Sam said steadily, her tone deadpan and not giving anything away. “My name’s Samantha Cameron.”

“May I have an ID, Ma’am?” One of the women asked tersely. “We are making sure that you are who you’re saying you are.”

Samantha gave her a cold look.

“Your CEO assured me that he will inform his employees I will be immediately sent up on my arrival,” she responded casually. She looked up at the CCTV cameras within the vicinity. “I’m pretty sure you don’t want me pointing this out to him. But I’m sure that he’s monitoring these cameras right now. So, why not put on those smiles you’ve been taught to do and direct me to the elevator that will take me to his office and pretend nothing happened, alright? I’m sure you don’t want to lose your jobs over this incident.”

“B1tch.”

That was the comment she heard from one of them said in a low voice after she walked by them after getting the elevator number. Sam gave herself an imaginary pat on the back for putting them in their place.

After pressing the bottom to the top floor, Sam lightly patted down the light grey, asymmetric layered burlap midi dress she is wearing where she paired it with a navy-blue blazer and comfortable heels that gave her extra height. Aside from the pearl drop earrings she wore, the other jewelry she has on her is her wedding ring.

The elevator ding, signifying that she already arrived at her floor destination. Walking out from the car, she was immediately greeted by a tall, dark man with glasses, holding a tablet and giving her an appraising look while standing in front the reception counter.

Sam slightly raised her chin up in response and gave him back look for look.

“You must be Mr. McLaren’s secretary,” she pointed out coldly, recalling the phone call she got from his employer yesterday. “I am here for my ten o’clock appointment with him.”

“Mr. McLaren’s just finishing his conference call, Mrs. Cameron,” he answered stiffly. “Please come this way while I check if he’s done.”

She followed behind him, her eyes narrowing at his tone. She surmised that he must have been apprehended by his employer over that phone call a few days ago. She sat on one chair and watched as he knocked on large, panel door twice before entering.

“Mr. McLaren’s ready to see you now.”

Sam looked up and saw the secretary by the door, looking at her pointedly. She stood up and after tidying her dress, she walked towards and by him when he held the one panel for her open. After several steps from crossing the threshold, she heard the door behind her close.

Looking towards the center of the office, a luxurious, hard wood office desk was placed on the center with tall, clear glass panels behind giving a beautiful, unobstructed view of the city skyline. The chair with its back facing towards her direction finally turned and Sam watched as a tall, dark-haired man stood up, buttoning his coat and walked towards her benevolently, his eyes briefly scanning her from top to bottom before a charming and arrogant smile appeared on his face.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Cameron,” Damian McLaren greeted and when Sam raised her hand to shake, he took it and instead brought it to his lips, kissing the back of her hand briefly. His eyes never left her face. “I hope my secretary treated you kindly this time.”

Sam pulled her hand away and gave him a calm smile.

“I’m sure by now your secretary has forgotten about it,” she commented.

Damian only smiled back in response as he escorted her towards one chair and waited for her to sit down. He went back to his desk and took his seat.

“Would you like some coffee, Mrs. Cameron?” He asked formally. “Or do you prefer any type of drink? I’m sure I have everything here. All you have to do is tell me.”

“Thank you for the offer, Mr. McLaren,” Sam responded evenly. “But, I’m pretty sure you did not call me here to let me know that whatever drink I’ll ask, you have it here.”

If Damian felt insulted at her remark, Sam didn’t see it in his expression. The man’s smile only widened that slowly it bordered into sinister.

“Well, it’s a good thing that you’re the one who mentioned it as I have no plans and the time in using my charm to persuade you, Mrs. Cameron,” he said. He let out a short laugh. “Rumors did tell me that you’re not one to chit chat to seal any dealings on your end.”

Sam pretended not to understand.

“Care to elaborate on that, Mr. McLaren?”

Damian smirked a bit.

“You can cut the act, Mrs. Cameron,” he scoffed coldly. He leaned back on his chair and stared at her pointedly. “Aside from reading all the information I had my PI gather about you, there’s only one question that I’ll be asking.”

“The fact that you married a man old enough to be your grandfather and gave your body to,” Damian continued steadily. “Well, Mrs. Cameron, I would like to ask you this one question.”

Sam remained silent, refusing to take the bait.

“How much?”