Chapter 7 Who is the Uninvited Guest?

Amanda's POV

Dad dragged me out before dawn, making me dress up to look "sorry enough" for this Wilson visit. These fancy gift bags felt like they were packed with my self-respect instead of the expensive booze and cigars.

The butler's look said everything when Dad introduced me as "Wilson's future wife." Great - just another gold digger to him. When he mentioned Wilson had been partying at Skybar and was doing lunch at the Beverly Wilshire, my gut clenched. Everyone knew what Skybar meant after dark.

"Don't start anything when we see Wilson," Dad snapped, sounding almost desperate as we drove. I caught my reflection in the window - damn, I looked beat. "Interesting spot to meet," I muttered. "Thought Wilson liked keeping things... behind closed doors."

His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "This isn't a game, Amanda."

"No," I agreed softly. "Games usually have fairer rules."

The hotel's lobby exuded timeless elegance. As we waited by the restaurant entrance, my father tried to engage every passing executive in conversation, his anxiety thinly veiled as networking.

Around eleven, I spotted Wilson arriving with a familiar face - Christopher Mitchell, the man I'd seen with Ethan at the bar. The recognition must have shown on my face because Christopher's eyes widened slightly before he smoothly took control of the awkward situation.

"Mr. Davis, what a pleasure," Christopher stepped forward with practiced corporate charm. "And Ms. Davis - Amanda, isn't it? Would you join us for lunch? We were just discussing some fascinating developments in the market."

In the private dining room, Christopher dominated the conversation with talk of Blackwood Group's expansion plans. "Of course, with the recent changes in leadership, we're taking a more... aggressive approach to the West Coast market."

He dropped the "recent changes" bomb with that cat-got-the-cream smirk, totally eating up my reaction.

"I heard your CEO recently married," Wilson commented, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

Christopher's smile widened. "Indeed. And between us, getting in the good graces of the new Mrs. Blackwood might be... advantageous for anyone hoping to do business with the Group."

I kept my face carefully neutral, though I could feel Wilson's speculative gaze. My father shifted uncomfortably in his chair, no doubt calculating the implications for his own plans.

As the conversation continued to wind through various business topics, the tension in the room grew increasingly uncomfortable.

"Amanda," my father's voice carried a warning edge, "why don't you offer Harold a toast?"

I rose smoothly, murmuring an excuse about freshening up first. The route to the ladies' room took me past a quieter section of the hotel, where I nearly collided with a familiar figure.

"Careful there," Ethan's hands steadied me, his touch lingering slightly longer than necessary. "Rough morning?"

I glanced around quickly to ensure we were alone. "What are you doing here?"

"Working, supposedly." His eyes danced with mischief. "Got a client who's very... demanding. About three hundred pounds, insists on calling me 'sugar' and keeps pinching my behind."

Despite everything, I had to bite back a laugh. "Sounds lucrative."

"Oh, absolutely. Though I might need hazard pay." He sobered slightly. "Listen, my grandmother's flying in. She's rather insistent on meeting you."

"Your... grandmother?" I blinked, thrown by this glimpse into his real life.

"Mm-hmm. Day after tomorrow. Don't worry about gifts - I'll handle everything." His thumb brushed my wrist briefly. "Just be yourself. She'll love you."

The tenderness in his voice made something flutter in my chest. Before I could respond, footsteps echoing on marble warned us we weren't alone anymore.

"I should go," I whispered.

Ethan nodded, stepping back smoothly as voices approached. But the look we shared said it all - I had backup now, and he wasn't about to leave me hanging.

Taking a deep breath to compose myself after the unexpected encounter, I made my way back to rejoin the others.

Back in the private dining room, Wilson was holding court about his latest yacht purchase. My father hung on every word, while Christopher observed the scene with barely concealed amusement.

"You know," Christopher commented quietly as I retook my seat, "sometimes the most valuable business assets aren't the ones listed on any balance sheet."

I met his knowing look with a steady gaze of my own. Whatever game was being played here, I was starting to suspect I wasn't the only one keeping secrets.

The rest of lunch passed in a blur of corporate small talk and veiled implications. Wilson's attempts to corner me for a private conversation were smoothly intercepted by Christopher, who seemed to have appointed himself my unofficial protector.

Christopher slipped me his business card as we were heading out. "Just in case," he said, giving me that loaded Blackwood look. "Family looks after family."

I turned the card over in my hands, feeling its weight - and not just the fancy cardstock kind. Talk about a day of transformations. This morning I'd been Daddy's perfect little pawn. Now? Hell if I knew what I was anymore, or which puppet master was really pulling my strings.

Sure, we'd sent Wilson packing with his tail between his legs, but the murder in his eyes screamed "this isn't over." Still, with Ethan's kiss still burning on my lips and Christopher's card burning a hole in my clutch, I felt kind of invincible. Like maybe, just maybe, I could handle whatever came next.

Yeah. That lasted about thirty seconds.

The moment we pulled up to the house, my spidey senses started tingling. Jenkins - who I swear hasn't broken a sweat since the Reagan administration - was practically sprinting down the steps. The formal living room looked like Times Square, every light blazing at what had to be past midnight.

"Well," Dad murmured, his casual tone fooling exactly no one. "Seems we've got company."

My stomach did that thing where it tries to climb up your throat. Late night visitors? In this family? Never good news.