Free Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) by Scarlett Edwards

before.
    “This is Lilly Ryder, am I correct?”
    “Yes,” I whisper. The speaker’s voice is smoky and smooth all at once. Take one part Morgan Freeman, mix it with another part Sean Connery, and you still won’t hold a candle to the masculine power projected in this voice.
    It’s enough to make my core clench with the most desperate type of need.
    “Good. Lilly, my name is Stonehart. My secretary called you. But I take it she did not leave the most convincing impression?”
    I stammer something incomprehensible, shocked to actually be on the line with the Stonehart of Stonehart Industries. Instinct tells me this isn’t a joke anymore.
    “I’ll make this brief,” he continues. “I heard about what happened. I want to offer reparation for the injuries suffered by my decision. Come to my office Thursday morning. I will have my driver outside your apartment at eight. He will bring you here and back. You don’t know me yet, but you will find I am a man of my word.”
    The line goes dead.
    I stare at the phone in my hand like it might grow wings.
    Did that really just happen?
    I fly to my computer and pull up YouTube. I search “Stonehart speech.”
    A lot of results come up, most of them useless, except for one: Mr. Stonehart giving the commencement speech to the Wharton Business School class of 2010.
    I click the video and read the description while it loads. Apparently, Stonehart is a Wharton alumni. His company donated twelve million dollars to the university to establish a scholarship fund that year.
    The video starts. It’s shaky and low-quality, so I can’t get a good look at the speaker, but when his voice comes through my speakers… my mind instantly places it.
    It’s the voice of the man who just called me.
    Holy shit .
    Holy shit! The CEO of an enormous corporation just called me.
    Personally.
    I walk to the kitchen in a sort of daze. I pour myself a glass of water. Set it on the counter. Walk away.
    My mind is buzzing with questions. The most prevalent of which is, “Why?”
    Why would Stonehart care about what happened to me? Why would he call me himself?
    A Google search reveals nothing about him and very little about his corporation. Their website is a blank screen with the words “Stonehart Industries” in silver lettering across the middle. Nothing more.
    Should I go to the meeting? I snort a laugh. I can’t exactly turn it down. A call like that doesn’t happen every day.
    If I do go… I will have to keep expectations to a minimum. I should expect nothing, in fact, and be pleasantly surprised if something comes up. It’s a stretch, anyway.
    Stonehart is not Paul.
    I have two days left until Thursday. The best thing to do is keep planning my future as if the call never happened.
    I cannot rely on it.
     
     
     

Chapter Twenty
    (Three weeks ago: Thursday morning)
     
    I step out of the black limousine in front of a towering glass and steel building. I am wearing a Classiques Entier Diamond Blend jacket, matching pencil skirt, and Attilio Giusti Leombruni belt pumps. The meeting required a new wardrobe. This one set me back an entire grand.
    That’s why all the clothes have their sales tags expertly hidden in the seams.
    The doorman offers a smile as I enter. I smile back. My heels strike the shining terrazzo floor. Each stride sends a confident jolt through my body.
    I pretend to scan the building directory, but I already know my destination. Stonehart Industries owns this building, and has offices spanning the top three floors. I’m just biding for time.
    I have no idea what I’m doing here. There are multinational conglomerate leaders who would kill to be in my position. How often do you get to face the owner of one of the most secretive yet influential American companies to be formed in the last twenty years?
    What could he possibly want with me? I refuse to believe this is just an act of charity. Real life does not work that way.
    There is always a catch.
    A hand touches my elbow,