He Came Back to Collect

Chapter 004

The landlady was still staring at the stairs, trying to work out how two grown men had just gone flying across the landing.

Cornell snapped his fingers.

“Hello? Still renting rooms?”

She blinked, then got to her feet and lit another cigarette. Whatever else she'd seen in her life, it had taught her how to recover quickly.

“You can handle yourself. I like that.” She smiled at him. “Thanks for stepping in. Want a smoke?”

He shook his head. Nicotine was a habit he had no intention of picking up.

“Suit yourself. Come on, I'll show you around.”

As she led him through the building, she introduced herself. Her name was Rebecca Abrams, she was twenty-seven, and her parents had died years ago. The building was the only thing they'd left her.

None of the rooms quite worked for him. Most were too small, and the few with enough space cost more than he could afford.

He was beginning to wonder whether he'd have to look elsewhere when Rebecca stopped.

He'd just saved her from those men. Besides, business was terrible, and she wasn't eager to lose one of the few prospective tenants who'd made it through the door.

“Tell you what. I've got a spare bedroom in my own apartment. You can rent that.”

She took him to her floor. The apartment had three bedrooms, a living room, and everything else he needed. It also got plenty of sunlight.

Cornell agreed on the spot.

The rent was a hundred and twenty dollars a month, with three months paid up front and another month's rent as a deposit. Utilities were extra.

Handing over four hundred and eighty dollars hurt more than he cared to admit.

Rebecca propped her long legs on the table and happily counted the notes. Halfway through, she stopped.

He'd beaten up Big B's men. They weren't going to forget that. Never mind staying for months; he'd be lucky to last a week.

She counted out three hundred and sixty dollars and pushed it back across the table.

“You've pissed off Big B's crew. They'll be back for you, and when they come, you'll probably want to move out.” She tapped the money. “Some landlords would keep every cent. Lucky for you, I'm a soft touch. A hundred and twenty will do for now. Just watch yourself.”

With that, she left to take a shower, her hips swaying as she walked away.

Cornell wasn't sure whether to laugh or thank her. He pocketed the refund without arguing and went out to buy a few essentials, along with a cheap, creased suit from a street stall.

Then he called Maria Sten and asked to meet.

Her reluctance came through clearly over the phone, but she couldn't quite bring herself to turn away someone her grandfather had sent. Eventually, she agreed.

By the time Cornell arrived at the café beside the square in the Calderwick District the next morning, Maria had been waiting for a while.

She sat in a quiet alcove upstairs, her chin resting on her hand, watching the men pass beneath the window. Every so often, she glanced at the photograph in her other hand.

The man in it had a clean-cut face and watchful eyes that suggested he'd seen more than he cared to discuss. Ordinarily, she might have found him attractive.

But that smirk spoiled everything. It made him look like the sort of man who flirted with every woman he met and thought he was doing them a favor.

Why had her grandfather introduced her to someone like that? He'd spoken about Cornell Bateman with an enthusiasm she rarely heard him show anyone.

What was so special about him?

“Hi, beautiful. Cornell Bateman. We spoke last night.”

The voice caught her by surprise.

Cornell held out a hand, taking his first proper look at her. She wore a white Chanel dress in delicate pleated chiffon, her hair pinned up to reveal a long, graceful neck. The sunlight caught her flawless complexion, while the slight lift of her chin made it clear she wasn't easily impressed.

She looked up. He was paler than he'd appeared in the photograph.

Then she noticed the suit.

It was cheap, badly creased, and worn with a pair of flip-flops.

Her grandfather had to be kidding.

This meeting was, among other things, a chance to see whether they were suited to each other. It was practically an interview, and the man hadn't even bothered to dress for it.

She'd already seen enough.

Ignoring his outstretched hand, Maria rose.

“Excuse me. I need to use the restroom.”

As soon as she was inside, she called Austin Sten.

“Grandpa, what are you doing? I thought this was just a date, not a commitment. Have you seen this man? He turned up in flip-flops. I'm not doing this.”

“Maria Sten, listen carefully. He's your fiancé. In a family like ours, marriage isn't something you decide entirely for yourself. I've made my decision.”

His sudden severity left her momentarily speechless.

“Besides,” he continued, “I've sent him to protect you.”

“Oh. He's a bodyguard.” Relief softened her voice. “That makes more sense. I knew you couldn't seriously expect me to marry someone like him.”

“Actually, I'd prefer you to skip the dating and get married. Then he can protect you for the rest of your life.”

She nearly dropped her phone into the sink.

“Grandpa, that's not funny.”

“I'm not joking. Give him a chance. There's more to a man than how he looks, and if you spend a little time with him, you'll understand why I chose him.”

Maria pressed her lips together.

Her grandfather could be stubborn, but he wouldn't gamble with her future on a whim. There had to be something she was missing.

“All right,” she said at last. “I'll try.”

She returned to the table just in time to hear Cornell arguing with the menu.

“How much? That's daylight robbery.” He shut it with a sigh. “Just bring me a beer. I need to cool off.”

If his accounts hadn't been frozen, he wouldn't have cared. As things stood, every price on the page annoyed him.

The server shifted awkwardly.

“I'm sorry, sir. We don't serve beer.”

Cornell cleared his throat. Three years inside, and apparently he'd forgotten how to order a drink in a café.

“Water, then. You've got water, right?” He lowered his voice. “You don't charge for that, do you?”

His hand strayed to his pocket, where he had only about three hundred dollars left.

“Just water, sir?”

The server gave him an odd look. A man meeting a woman this beautiful might at least have ordered himself a coffee.

Whatever hope Maria had recovered during the phone call disappeared.

She was not going to date this clueless hick. Her grandfather could insist all he liked.

“Bring him a Blackcrest Americano,” she said coldly. “I'll have the Highridge blend, with milk and no sugar.”

“Of course, ma'am.”

The server escaped with visible relief.

Maria gave Cornell a brief look, then turned toward the window. Neither of them spoke.

The rustle of the menu eventually broke the silence.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him run a finger down the drinks list until he found Blackcrest. He checked the price, winced, and felt for his pocket again, looking as though he'd just received terrible news.

She couldn't decide whether to laugh or scream.

Her grandfather could at least have found her someone tall, rich, or handsome. Was one out of three really too much to ask?

She slapped a hand on the table and stood.

“I'll pay for the coffee. As for this engagement, forget it. You and I are not going to happen. You're not good enough for me.” Her gaze swept over him. “Go and make something of yourself. When you've actually achieved something, then perhaps we can talk.”

She turned and walked away.

Cornell watched her go, startled for a moment. Then a slow, amused smile spread across his face.

Before prison, he'd always been the one turning women down. Having one take a look at him and decide he wasn't good enough was a new experience.

It might even be interesting.

He wasn't discouraged. General Sten had given him an order, and whatever Maria thought of him, he intended to see it through.