Chapter 70: Chapter 70

It had only been three days since he had received the news about the loss of the shelter, but to Charlie it felt like a century ago. And each new moment was a mixture of anguish and dread that, at any moment, someone would appear demanding that they put more than 70 helpless animals in the middle of the street, so that the new owner could take possession. Oliver, Vivian's husband, and the lawyers Morgan had made available to help with the case were doing the best they could, but... As unfair and outrageous as it was, it had all been done within the law and therefore not there seemed to be a lot they could do. She had even floated the idea of them running a petition with signatures from people in the surrounding community to try to convince bank officials of the site's importance, but the lawyers didn't seem to think that would be of much use. There didn't seem to be any salvation for the shelter after all.

That's why she had decided to go to Morgan's office that day, to say that she would accept his idea of making a better offer than the other person who was trying to buy the shelter land. It was the best option they had. Perhaps the only one, in fact. And on top of all that, they were talking about Morgan. He was the kindest, most selfless person she knew. It was practically impossible that anything bad would happen if she depended on him to solve this problem.

But that was precisely what was gnawing at her insides: she was going to depend on him. Again. As if she were the child and he was the adult. As if he was the only one capable of helping and solving the problems she got into, while Charlie... She was just herself.

Gripping the strap of her bag even tighter, almost to the point of making her hands hurt, Charlie tried to push those silly insecurities out of her mind and be more optimistic. Morgan had enough money to raise the proposed purchase by up to four times, which meant the shelter was safe. And in less than a year, she too would have enough money to match him and the two of them would be equal at last. She would be able to do things for him as much as he did for her. That same day, inclusive, she would take the first step to prove it. It wasn't much, of course, as it was much more of a nudge to get Morgan in the right direction than a real gift, but… Still, she hoped he'd enjoy it.

Finally passing through the glass doors of Morgan's office building, Charlie refused to be intimidated as she made her way to the information desk in reception, although she had to admit that the marble walls and glass accents when compared with the plain, cheap clothes she was wearing, they were a little intimidating. As did the look the receptionist, a middle-aged blonde woman wearing impeccable makeup and a perfectly tailored pantsuit, shot her as she approached.

" Hello. “ Charlie smiled, trying to be as friendly as possible, although the only reaction she got was that the woman raised an eyebrow, measuring her up and down “ My name is Charlotte Sullivan and I would like to see my husband, Morgan Sullivan, in the Fifteenth floor, please. Could you let him know I've arrived?

“Are you the wife of Mr. Sullivan? “ the receptionist asked, with an extremely skeptical “Really?

“Yes, I'm serious…” Charlie grumbled, trying to keep his composure “Can you just let him know I'm here? I'm sure he will clear up this misunderstanding...

“Oh, sure…” the lady laughed, scornfully “Of course I'll interrupt the busy routine of the man who owns this entire building just to let him know that a teenage girl is claiming to be his wife. “ the receptionist rolled her eyes, going back to looking at the computer screen “ Listen, honey, if you're really his wife, why don't you call him and ask him to come get you? Oh, of course, because you don't have his number...

" It's a great idea. " Charlie interrupted her, starting to get really irritated " I had come all the way here unannounced to surprise him, but I can change my plans, if you find it so hard to believe that he is my husband... " pulling her Cell phone from inside her purse, Charlie quickly looked up his number in her address book. “Just a moment.

Under the receptionist's disdainful gaze, Charlie listened to the calls on the other end of the line go on longer than usual compared to when she called him, but eventually someone picked up. However, to her surprise, it wasn't Morgan.

“Good morning, this is Hiroshi Takahashi. You called Mr. Sullivan, but he's busy right now. How can I help? “ asked the male voice on the other end of the line.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Takahashi. “ she greeted him, unable to avoid r feel a little shy “ I am Charlotte Sullivan, the wife of Morgan. I don't know if she knows me, but...

“Oh, nice to meet you, Mr. Sullivan. “ the man's voice immediately changed from professional to friendly “ Of course I know her. I'm Hiroshi, your husband's assistant. Forgive me for answering his personal number, but he is attending an important meeting right now and it is company protocol to keep cell phones out of the meeting room to avoid interruptions. But tell me, could I be of any help?

“Oh well…” wanting to kick herself for not considering the possibility that Morgan had something important to do that day and she ended up bothering her, Charlie stammered “I came down to the office to pay him a visit , but...

“He's in the office. Excellent! He'll be delighted to see you after the meeting. “ Hiroshi celebrated “ Would you like me to go to the reception to get it?

“Uh… yeah…” Charlie exchanged a glance with the receptionist, who now seemed a little more alert, but still skeptical. “That would be great.

“Give me a minute, then. “ her husband's assistant asked, hanging up.

“Do you really think you're fooling me, talking to myself on the phone? the lady asked, though Charlie could recognize a note of doubt in her smug voice.

Pretending he hadn't heard her, Charlie went to sit in one of the armchairs in reception, needing to wait no more than two or three minutes before, when it seemed the receptionist had lost her temper and was ready to throw her out of the room, building, a tall, well-dressed man appeared from one of the hallways, smiling broadly as soon as he saw her.

“It is a pleasure to meet you personally, Mrs. Sullivan. Hiroshi reached out to shake her hand and Charlie saw, out of the corner of her eye, the receptionist's jaw immediately drop.

“Thank you, Mr. Takahashi. “ she returned the handshake “ It's also a pleasure to meet you. And thanks for coming to pick me up...

“Um...Mr. Takahashi... " the woman started to stutter, attracting the attention of the two " Could it be that there is no mistake...?

“What do you mean, Mrs. Richards? “ Hiroshi questioned her, not understanding “ This is Charlotte, the wife of Mr. Sullivan. There is no mistake. Even if you saw her here, why didn't she call me? “ he wondered “ So she wouldn't have had to call.

"Oh...I...Uh..." the receptionist widened her eyes, as if she was about to have a panic attack, and even though he knew that maybe she didn't deserve it, Charlie felt a little sorry for her.

“Don't worry, Mr. Takahashi. “ Charlie caught the attention of her husband's assistant, exchanging a suggestive look with the lady with her mouth again wide open “ It was just a small miscommunication. Nothing you need to worry about. Now, would you please take me to a place where I can wait for my husband's meeting to end? “ she asked, with a friendly smile.

" But of course. “Hiroshi nodded easily, indicating the corridor he had come from with his hand “Follow me. And please call me Hiroshi.

“Call me Charlie then. “ she smiled, heading down the hall without so much as a second glance at the receptionist.

Struck by the imposing architecture of the building, Charlie found herself turning her head in all directions as Hiroshi led her down the hall and then up a glass elevator, up to the roof of the building, where there was an even more elegant wing.

“This is a private reception for Mr. Sullivan. “ Hiroshi indicated a set of tall, black velvet armchairs, organized around a coffee table that looked like it was made of crystal “ His office is up ahead, attached to the meeting room where he is now. I think that in a little over twenty or thirty minutes his appointment will be over and then I'll be able to let him know you're here. That way, the two of you can talk in the office in complete privacy while I lead the other meeting participants outside.

“That would be great, Hiroshi. “ Charlie smiled, going to sit down. “I appreciate it.

“Would you like me to bring you something? Coffee or water. “ when she denied it, he then smiled “ So, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to finish organizing some documents. But please don't hesitate to call me if you need anything.

Saying goodbye to him, Charlie saw Morgan's assistant enter through what she had said was the office door, leaving her alone in that huge place, full of dark details in marble and steel. Of course, everything there was as elegant as he was, but for Charlie, it was hard to imagine his kind and warm Morgan in a place as cold and serious as this one, which was more like a laboratory. But that strangeness only lasted until the moment when she realized that the Morgan who kissed her every day and possessed her every night was a very different man from Mr. Sullivan, the son of Robert Sullivan who was forced to leave from the mother's womb already knowing how to deal with investments and business. For other people, who had never seen how happy he was cooking or how kind he was to a grumpy cat and a sightless little dog, this place must have suited him very well.

And that only solidified the perception that she had that he would be happier away from there, being who he really was, instead of having to fit every day into the mold that his father had forced him to use, to continue doing that company prosper.

Lost in thought as she was, hearing the elevator screech to a stop on the floor, Charlie didn't even bother to turn her head to check who had arrived. However, when the sound of high heels clicking on the floor made her stomach clench, she immediately turned her head, thinking she was in a nightmare...

Yet the sight of Samantha Manson, standing before her wearing the same designer clothes and the same hateful expression she'd seen her wear for the past three years, was all too real.