My Name Was Banned, But My Success Was Unstoppable novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Ice

Torsten brings ice to her hotel; Edgar's company asks Ms. Wren to Thanksgiving dinner and Kerensa says yes.

By ten that night I was in a hotel room on the East Side with a bruise the shape of a thumb around my wrist.

I had stopped crying in the car.

I had not stopped shaking.

My phone showed a string of missed calls from Chicago.

Every one of them was my assistant.

Every one of them was about the same thing.

The Thaxton Group's finance chief had phoned Wren Holdings six times in two hours.

He sounded sick, she said.

He was begging for a meeting with Ms. Wren before Monday.

I put the phone face down on the bed.

Someone knocked on my door.

I looked through the peephole.

Torsten Rhodes stood in the hall in a dark coat, with a plastic bucket of ice in one hand.

He was not in uniform.

I opened the door on the chain.

"You followed me," I said.

"I did not," he said.

"I looked up where Wren Holdings keeps its hotel account."

"That's a bad answer."

"It's an honest one."

I took the chain off.

He came in and set the bucket on the desk.

He wrapped a handful of ice in a hotel towel.

"Give me your arm," he said.

"I can hold ice."

"Not with that hand."

I sat on the edge of the bed and gave him my wrist.

He turned it over under the lamp.

His hands were big and warm and very careful.

The bruise had started to go purple.

"He took the wrong grip," Torsten said.

"The man who twisted your arm has been rough before. I've told him twice."

"And tonight?"

"Tonight he's off the estate."

"You can't fire people for my wrist."

"I can for his grip."

He laid the towel over the bruise and kept his thumb on the inside of my arm.

My pulse hammered under it.

He had to feel that.

He looked at my mouth for half a second and then at the ice.

I told myself he was checking for a break.

"It's not broken," he said.

"Good."

"I'd like to keep my arm."

He almost smiled.

"Why was my print still in the gate?" I asked.

He kept his eyes on the towel.

"I told them I deleted it five years ago."

"You lied to Thaddeus Thaxton."

"I did."

"Why?"

"Someone should have," he said.

That was all he gave me.

I took my wrist back and held the towel myself.

"Tell me how it works," I said.

"How what works?"

"The house. Why did nobody in that hall say my name? You looked straight at me and said nothing."

He sat down in the desk chair.

"Mrs. Thaxton had it put in every contract after you left," he said.

"Staff don't say the name. They don't say Kerensa, they don't say Miss Thaxton, they don't say you at all."

"That's insane."

"One cook said it by accident in the kitchen two years ago."

"What happened?"

"She was gone by lunch."

I stared at him.

For five years, there had been a house on Long Island where my name was a firing offense.

I had thought that being forgotten was the worst they could do.

They had not forgotten me.

They had made sure nobody could remember me out loud.

"And outside the house?" I asked.

"Your father's lawyers sent letters to every firm in the city," Torsten said.

"No law office, bank or school. They said you were a thief, and that the family would not comment further."

"That's why nobody called me back."

"Yes."

"I thought I was bad at interviews."

He gave a short, rough laugh.

"Your brother hasn't sat down since you left," he said.

"He's been walking the front hall and looking at the door."

"Good."

"I'm only telling you what I saw."

He turned the ice bucket a quarter turn on the desk.

"You built a company that owns their house," he said.

"I'd say you were fine."

I didn't answer.

My phone buzzed on the bed.

My assistant again.

I put it on speaker.

"I'm sorry to call this late," she said.

"The Thaxton finance chief has stopped phoning. This just came from Edgar Thaxton's own office."

"Read it."

"It says: Mr. Thaxton requests that Ms. Wren join his family for Thanksgiving dinner at the main house, Thursday at six. He says the family wishes to discuss the loan in person."

I looked at Torsten.

He had gone very still.

"They don't know it's you," he said.

"They know a woman threw a pie on the rug last night," I said.

"They don't know she signs the loan papers."

"If you go back in there, they'll call the police."

"Then let them call," I said.

I leaned toward the phone.

"Tell Edgar Thaxton that Ms. Wren accepts."

I ended the call.

Torsten was still looking at me.

"Thursday at six," he said.

"I'll be on the gate."

"Will you open it?"

"For you," he said.

"I've had practice."

← Chapter 1 · All chapters · Chapter 3 →

Want to keep talking to characters like these? Chat with AI romance characters: AI Boyfriend · AI Girlfriend · Dark Romance · Fantasy Romance · BL (Boys’ Love) · Billionaire Boyfriend · Mafia Boyfriend · Possessive Boyfriend · Hockey Boyfriend · Older Boyfriend · K-Drama Boyfriend · Anime Boyfriend · Vampire Boyfriend · Werewolf Boyfriend · Demon Boyfriend · Fae Romance · GL (Girls’ Love) · Anime Girlfriend · Goth & Alt Girlfriend · Gamer Girlfriend · Tsundere Girlfriend · Fantasy Girlfriend