Consequences

Part 12

Doug's shoulders visibly relaxed. He hadn't realised he was tense until he literally felt his shoulders drop. He scanned the room he was in. Money. Clearly lots of money here, he thought given the rich décor. Not exactly his taste, and now that he looked more carefully, it did look a touch jaded. Old décor he decided.

Isabelle returned several minutes later and was frowning in earnest. "That's my number." She did not know her number by heart and had expected to find on checking it that he had made a mistake. Except, he hadn't!

In the time she'd been gone, Douglas had had a chance to think about her reaction. She had seemed genuinely surprised by his announcement, and absolutely sure about the number not being her card. So perhaps she hadn't placed the announcement. Her card could have been stolen. But she hadn't reported it missing. Or it could be part of a credit card scam. He was surprised to find himself trying to vindicate her.

"I know that." He stated flatly as he got to her feet and waited for her to retake her seat. Since when had he acquired these manners? It was almost as if being in her company triggered old fashioned etiquette.

Isabelle was at a complete loss as to how to explain why or how he came to have her credit card number. And functioning on little sleep, and growing exhaustion was not helping her cause. But she could hardly tell him to go away and come back after she had rested. Not when it looked like someone had used her card to place a notice in the national papers.

"It's my card." She retook her seat. The frown remained on her brow. "My Platinum Visa." She murmured quietly as if to confirm things. She looked over at him. "And you did not use my card ..." It was a statement rather than a question.

He looked ready to explode as he interrupted. "Are you accusing me of..."

She held up a hand. "No. No. I apologise. I was thinking aloud." Now was not a good time to antagonise the man further. It was her card. He no doubt thought she had done this. Why would she? Was he someone worth having? Why would someone link their names together in this way?

"I have no need to steal credit cards, Ms Sojour-D'Sa. I am, a successful businessman." He did not mean to sound defensive, nor did he want to explain that he had built up his empire from scratch.

"One who is able to hack systems to garner credit card details." She pointed out beneath her breath.

"I did not put that announcement in the paper." He stated flatly. Then he all but accused her of doing exactly that. "Can you honestly say the same, given it was your card that paid for it?"

Isabelle scowled at his question. She took a great deal of umbrage at the fact he seemed to think she would do such a thing. Why would a complete stranger show up at her door and make these sorts of claims? She had never seen the man before. She would remember. He did not have a face one would forget easily. She made a quick study of his clothes.

Business clothes. Rich business clothes, she thought recognizing the quality in the cut and the material. Why would a rich man try to con her? Unless of course he was a successful conman, then of course business would be productive! She scowled. No. Something was not quite right. He was accusing her of pulling this stunt.

She started to show umbrage. "I'm not sure....Grandma!" Isabelle got to her feet. And for the first time since he'd met her, he saw genuine passion in her eyes. They had sparked for all of a second. "Excuse me again. Please help yourself to some more coffee." She left without waiting for a response.

Doug re ran the conversation, and wondered what to make of that little outburst. It was the first show of un-checked response. Up until that point she had been cool, calm and collected. But just now she had all but raced out of the room. How very odd. Doug rubbed the back of his neck. This was turning out to be far from the morning he'd expected.