Her Inconvenient Groom by Niomie Roland
Chapter 26
Chantelle and Sienna sat side by side at her huge desk, looking at the large computer screen with graphs and projections displayed on it. Sienna had the floor, and was excitedly explaining how much progress they’d made on Chantelle’s new project; the loan facility specifically targeting black American women.
“The new publicity material is ready for your approval,” Sienna was saying, clicking on a series of layouts and artworks for digital and print media. “We’ve also made contact with several social and cultural organizations across the United States, especially those providing assistance and support to our target groups. And,” she added triumphantly, “already fourteen more community colleges and training institutions on the east coast have agreed to approve applicants who cite us as their financial backers, to reduce the wait time for financing.”
Sienna gave her a proud grin. “This is going to be so awesome!”
Chantelle took a long sip of water, sat back, and gave Sienna a warm, genuine smile. “I’m proud of you. You took this project and ran with it. Even though you haven’t been with me long, Sienna, I want you to know how glad I am to have you on board.”
Sienna only had a couple of seconds to hide the same surprise Chantelle felt; it wasn’t often that she shared her emotions so openly. Maybe pregnancy was making her soft.
Then Sienna blurted, “I put in my application. I should be getting word any day now.”
Chantelle sat up straighter in her seat, almost dislodging Minerva, who was dead weight in her lap, and fast asleep. “You’re applying for a business loan?”
Sienna nodded, almost sheepishly. “I have some ideas. I thought it would be good to see what I can do with them.”
Immediately, Chantelle realized that this would mean losing one of the best assistants she’d ever had, but to her own surprise, she was happier for Sienna than she was worried for herself. “That’s wonderful,” she said sincerely. Then added with a whimsical smile, “You do realize you could have come directly to me, don’t you? You’d have had a check in hand by the end of the day, instead of going the formal route.”
Sienna shrugged. “I wanted to start off my career as an entrepreneur on the right foot,” she explained.
Chantelle took no offence. All she could feel was optimism. “Fair enough.”
In unison, the two women turned towards the screens again, but for some reason, it was hard to focus. It was Sienna who brought up the massive pink elephant lurking in the corner. “How are things going with Dustin and you?”
“There is no Dustin and me,” she answered hastily.
“Uh-huh. I’m just gonna repeat that question again and see if you want to answer it truthfully.”
Chantelle pouted, then admitted reluctantly. “I don’t know. When I got into this, it seemed so straightforward. Cut and dried. I get a service, he gets the money. But now, it feels like more than that. I guess I kind of like him.”
“You mean, like him, like him,” Sienna clarified.
Chantelle felt she didn’t need to answer. Sienna was too swift on the uptake not to get it.
Sienna enthused, “Well, that’s great!”
“Why is that great?” she answered immediately, with maybe too much force. “You know we don’t have a future.”
“Why not?” Sienna’s perfectly arched brows rose into her bangs.
“Because,” Chantelle blustered.
“Go on.” Sienna sounded almost amused.
Chantelle let her breath out in a gust, reached forward and shut down the computer, ending the session for the day. Only then did she answer. “Because we don’t fit,” she said shortly.
“Our species is adaptable,” Sienna pointed out. “When we need to fit, we find ways to—”
A presence filled the doorway, and both women looked up. It was Dennis, and it was immediately apparent that he was upset: His face was mottled, and he wore a circle of red around his chin and neck like a collar. “I need to talk to you,” he snapped.
Chantelle rested both her elbows on the table and folded her hands. From under the table, there was a low warning growl, as Minerva woke to find her space invaded by her least favorite person. Chantelle asked, “What would you like to talk to—”
“You know damn well what I want to talk about!” he said irritably.
Chantelle noticed that Sienna was looking as outraged and territorial as Minerva felt. She wasn’t surprised. This woman was loyal to a fault.
Dennis noticed too, and glared at her. “Ask your girl to leave,” he said, speaking to Chantelle, but not taking his eyes off Sienna.
“Girl?” Sienna choked. “Who’re you calling—”
“I’ll deal with this alone,” Chantelle said gently, causing Sienna to gape at her in shock.
Dennis looked triumphant.
Chantelle reassured her. “I’ll be fine.” She hefted Minerva, whose tail was puffy and eyes bugging, and handed her over into Sienna’s grasp.
Mutely, but none too pleased, Sienna stomped past Dennis, but not before slinging the cat over to the arm closest to him, probably hoping that Minerva would at least try to relieve him of a strip of skin as they passed. But no such luck.
Then she was alone with Dennis, and Chantelle got to her feet so that this man wouldn’t have even the slightest advantage of height. “Dennis, we’ve been through this—”
“You’re running this company into the ground!”
A short, sharp bark of shock burst from her lips. “Are you telling me that a tiny project like this one, representing a fraction of our holdings, is going to sink the parent company?”
“Have you seen the figures? We’re hemorrhaging money!”
“I have seen the figures,” she agreed, “and for a loan facility that is literally just off the ground, it’s normal for the money to go in one direction: outwards. But we’ve been running for less than a single financial quarter. Surely—”
“Surely what?”
“Surely a man of your business acumen would know that these things take time. And besides, I believe in these women. They’re aware that we are helping them attain their goals, and will be honor-bound to repay the loans—”
He scoffed. “You’re too damn soft-hearted to be in business.”
“Our father didn’t think so—”
“Step-father!” he snapped.
“Adoptive father,” she corrected, “and legal guardian. And if he believed in me enough to put me in charge, that should count for something.” As Dennis bristled, she added, “And I’d like for you to respect his decision and trust in my intuition, instead of fighting me at every—”
“Oh, little girl, Tom and I, we haven’t even begun to fight.”
Chantelle swerved out of his way, furious, heading for the door. “Dennis, please be reminded that as CEO, I am your senior authority. If you cannot speak to me with respect, this conversation is—”
His hand shot out and grabbed her by the upper arm, quick enough and hard enough to make her yelp. “It’s over when I say it’s over.”
“Let her go.”
The voice was so deadly quiet they both turned to its source. Dustin was standing in the doorway, and Chantelle had never seen that expression on his face.
Dennis was so surprised he let out a gust of a laugh, but it was cut short by the ice in Dustin’s eyes.
“Let go of my fucking wife.” Dustin repeated with dangerous calm.
Dennis’s hand fell to his side, but he responded with bravado, “Who are you to talk to me like that?”
Dustin walked deeper into the room. “Chantelle’s husband. And I’m telling you that whichever hand you touch her with again, you will lose.”
“You must be joking.”
“Try me.”
Chantelle looked on at the interaction, amazed. She had never experienced this, someone appearing out of nowhere to protect her. While part of her bristled, knowing that she was able to fight her own battles, another part was pleased. She had power, righteous indignation, and strength in her corner.
She kind of liked that.
Dennis gave Chantelle an indignant look. “Are you going to let him speak to me like that?”
“Seems to me he’s master of his own words,” she pointed out.
Dennis, fool that he was, swiveled toward her, and immediately found himself being blocked by a taller, larger, and way angrier man.
“Listen, brother,” Dustin placed a hand on his chest, “you won’t get another warning.”
Dennis brushed Dustin’s hand away so roughly that Chantelle cringed, expecting blows to follow. “You’re nothing but an interloper. My sister’s passing fancy. A little bit of rough. Lord knows, she needs it. I’ve always thought it would do her some good to get a little wild for a change. But once she gets you out of her system, out of her panties—”
The movement was so fast that Chantelle barely saw it go down. All she knew was that Dennis was braced against the wall with a forearm pressed against his throat.
“Get out.”
“What?” Dennis croaked.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out. You, your wife, and your brother have thirty minutes to pack your shit. I’ll be waiting at the bottom of the front stairs. The driver will drop you wherever you want to go.”
Dennis gave Chantelle a pleading look, but Dustin bellowed, “Don’t look at her, look at me! I am speaking! I want you to leave!”
Dennis was foolish enough to protest. “This isn’t your house. You have no authority—”
Dustin eased the pressure off her brother’s throat, but still stood distressingly close, folding his arms. “I am her husband, and it’s on that authority that I speak.” He pointed at the doorway. “Thirty minutes. I’ll meet you at the bottom of the steps.”
Flushed, humiliated, struggling to breathe past his own rage, Dennis crab-walked around him and scurried out.
Dustin looked at Chantelle, as if trying to read her response to what had just happened, but, unable to do so, simply cocked his head a little and followed Dennis outside.
Chantelle plopped into her seat, utterly bewildered. What had just happened? And how did she feel about it Dustin protecting her?
The answer came as a surprise. Good. It felt kind of good.