T H R E E
"The shipment is on time then?" Devon Hart's voice rang out through my room, as I got ready for work.
Devon Hart was my publicist and manager; she was a ruthless businesswoman, and fiercely protective of me.
She was also my aunt.
I put on some moisturizer, replying to her, "It's scheduled to be delivered this morning Devy."
She hummed and asked me about some other papers that I had to send out to her.
Aunt Devon was my dad's younger sister, and we had been close growing up; I saw her as more of a friend or a sister than an aunt, considering we were only thirteen years apart. She was now thirty-seven and living her best life being rich and unbothered.
"I wanted to ask you Cal," she started after I heard her shuffling some papers, "You've been invited to a guest speaker and gala type of thing next week. I thought I'd ask just in case you were feeling up for it, I know you're not really into that sort of thing kiddo."
I bit my lip hesitantly, rifling through my closet for something to wear, "I-I think I s-should be okay to go," I told her finally, knowing that it would help with promotion for my brand.
"If you're comfortable with that Callan, there's no pressure," Aunt Dee said, in her soft tone that was honestly only reserved for me.
"I t-think it c-could be good for the business but..." I chewed on my lip worriedly, debating if it was time to tell her about the...issue.
"Cal?" she questioned, catching onto my hesitancy.
I had slept better last night than I had for the past month and a half. I felt more secure, knowing that I would be able to solve my problem soon.
And due to the fact that I now knew that the problem was going to be solved, hopefully, I felt that it would be a good idea to tell my family.
"I have to tell you s-something Aunt Dee," I told her.
"What's wrong Callan? Is there a problem?" she asked, her authoritative voice gentler now.
I took a breath, explaining to her about what had been happening for the past month and a half.
"Why didn't you say anything Callan?" she sighed out, her voice concerned.
"I-I was confused at first and then I was scared," I told her honestly, "But I'm getting help. Do you remember my friend Althea?"
She paused, and then cleared her throat, "Yes," she said, her tone clipped.
I nodded, even though she couldn't see me, "The company that Thea works for does security and investigative work as well, and I contacted them y-yesterday."
My dumb heart skipped a beat when I thought of whom I had contacted yesterday.
"Hm," Aunt Dee hummed, uncertainly, "And they'll be able to help?"
"I-I'm meeting with t-them today, so fingers crossed."
I was going to disown my heart if it kept acting up every time I thought about him.
She asked me a few more questions, making me promise to call her after I was done, and we hung up the call.
I quickly picked up my outfit, a grey plaid skirt that went to just below my knees with a loose black sweater and some stockings, my own brand of course. I also picked out a matching lavender bralette and underwear set to wear underneath; also another one of my own designs. I paired everything with a belt, clasping on my Grandmother's heart necklace around my neck and adding a few rings on my fingers.
YOU ARE READING
Jakob Laurent was an intensely quiet, no-nonsense type of man. Callan Grant was a sweet, slightly eccentric, small-business owner. ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ Callan needed to take some extra security precautions, but she could have never predicted that it would co...