The Arrangement Read online

  THE ARRANGEMENT (Book One)

  Jennifer Hartley

  Contents

  Other Books By Jennifer Hartley

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Other Books By Jennifer Hartley

  This iѕ a wоrk оf fiction. Names, characters, places аnd inсidеntѕ аrе еithеr thе рrоduсt оf thе аuthоr’ѕ imаginаtiоn or are used fiсtitiоuѕlу, and аnу rеѕеmblаnсе to actual реrѕоnѕ, living оr dеаd, business establishments, еvеntѕ, оr locales iѕ entirely coincidental.

  @ Copyright 2019 by (Jennifer Hartley)

  All right reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner.

  First edition 2019

  To all my lovely readers - Thank you for downloading this book. I hope you’ll enjoy this book.

  Join my newsletter to get to know my latest releases and discounted books. I Would love to know your honest thoughts about this story . So please leave your honest feedback on Amazon. I read each and every one of yours . Its my pleasure.

  Other Books By Jennifer Hartley

  The Heart Of you Boxset

  Series Book 1- The Starting Line

  Series Book 2- A Distant Spark

  Series Book3-The Heart Of You

  Other Books

  Second Chance Desires Boxset

  Tangled Hearts

  Perchance To Dream

  Back To you

  Aftercare

  The Miles Between Us

  Marine For Dinner

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  See you on the inside!

  JENNIFER HARTLEY

  About Arrangement -

  When she undergoes a traumatic experience at the hands of someone whom she trusted, Sasha is shocked and at a loss of how to cope with as well as move past an incident of that magnitude. Unable to take any action against her assailant because of her financial and social status, she believes that she is powerless until her friend Eric, the son of an extremely wealthy and well-connected businessman, makes her an offer she can’t refuse. However, as their arrangement brings Sasha and Eric loser together, it seems that they just might have a self-fulfilling prophecy on their hands. Will Sasha and Eric find happiness together? Or will the dark clouds of Eric’s mysterious past that hang over him divide them?

  One

  Sasha felt that she had never set foot in the courtroom until today. When she had been assaulted by her employer Carl Kane in his own home, where she tutored his young son, she thought her life was over. They were men of power and fortune, and she was no match for them – that was until her friend Eric Cohen had insisted that he would marry her so she would have his influence and money on her side so justice could be served.

  Carl Kane had consequently attacked them, and the outraged Eric had aimed for his throat and was then arrested. Then there was what she believed was a turning point in her marriage of convenience - it was a little hard to believe that it all happened just yesterday.

  What she could believe was the memory of Eric all over her body, inside her. Her lips still tingled from the many, many kisses they shared. Though it was a little chilly in the courtroom, she was warm just from thinking how he had held her and loved her. He had to love her to trust her as he had, to do the things he had done last night. She had to believe it wasn’t wishful thinking that he loved her.

  She turned to look behind her. Eric was right behind her, and seated next to him were her friends Lena, Zachary, and Ruby. Eric met her stare and gave her a small, reassuring smile. She gave him a grateful one.

  Then the doors opened again, and Carl Kane entered in the room. Sasha felt sick to her stomach. Barry Horton had yet to arrive. Vince Callister too. She quickly turned to face the front of the room, trying to ignore that nothing lay between her and Carl but empty chairs and an aisle.

  She put her hands on her lap, twirling her wedding band on her finger. It brought her some calm. And courage. More courage than she thought possible.

  From behind, she could hear Lena murmuring something. She didn’t dare look. She could never fool Eric. If he saw how tensed she was, he might go over to Carl again. His behavior nearly got him banned from Judge McMoore’s courtroom, if not for Barry and Paxton interceding on his behalf.

  The doors opened, and this time Barry and Vince entered the room. Despite being twenty years older than the latter, Barry’s movements were agile and springy. He also looked like he had gotten a good night’s sleep. Vince looked cross, and it didn’t abate when he reached his client.

  “Good morning, Sasha,” Barry greeted her warmly as he put his briefcase on the table before sitting down.

  “Mr. Horton,” Sasha acknowledged. The presence of the older man was a comfort. With his thick white hair and kind blue eyes, he reminded her of her father, Daniel.

  Then Judge McMoore entered the room.

  “All rise.”

  He sat down and grunted to everyone, “Be seated.”

  “Yesterday, this court witnessed some unacceptable behavior. Despite this, I request that the jury keep their focus on the details gathered so far from testimonies and cross-examination. New witnesses pertinent to the case at hand will also be at court today. That is all. Now let’s proceed, Mr. Horton.”

  Barry stood up, buttoning his black suit jacket. “The prosecution once again calls Mr. Kane to the stand.”

  Surprised murmurings scatter through the room. Even the judge looked startled, but he nodded. He glared at the table where Callister and Carl sat. Callister didn’t bother masking his shock. “What else does the prosecution want from my client? Wasn’t yesterday enough?”

  “No. I thought it pertinent that the court witness a testimony from your client that is honest as much as he can manage, and rational. I’m actually giving him a chance, Mr. Callister.”

  “Strike Mr. Horton’s last sentence from the record,” McMoore instructed the stenographer. “Mr. Horton, maybe you should be reminded that in my court I’m the one who decides who gets a second chance. That said, Mr. Callister, instruct your client to take the stand.”

  Carl shot Callister a nasty look before he stood up.

  “I’m sure you can’t wait to be off the stand, Mr. Kane,” Barry told him after he was sitting down. “But I have more questions.”

  “If you must,” Carl sounded bored.

  “Yesterday, just before Mr. Cohen was compelled to defend his wife’s honor - ”

  “Objection,” Callister snarled.

  McMoore growled at Barry, “Stick to questioning, Mr. Horton.”

  “Just before certain comments were made by you regarding Mrs. Cohen, we were talking about some of your former employees. Now, Wendy Frond is off the table. But Mrs. Cohen and your son’s latest nanny, a Miss Oriole Kennedy, are the women I wish to discuss with you.”

  Carl rolled his eyes. Barry, unperturbed, proceeded, addressing the jury.

  “Due to the NDA Miss Frond signed, anything that is directly connected to her will no longer be mentioned. However, Mrs. Cohen and Miss Kennedy are not bound by such a contr
act. For the jury’s reference, I’d like to introduce Exhibit D.” Barry went to the table and opened his briefcase. On an easel stand, he mounted a photo.

  Sasha looked away. It was a photo of a woman’s breasts. Her left nipple was bleeding. But they weren’t hers. Then he reached into his briefcase again for another photo and put it on another stand. Sasha bit her lip. It was a photo of her breasts. Her left nipple was also bleeding in it. She felt her nipple throb in memory of that night. She took a deep breath, forming a tent with her hands and resting her forehead on it. She had been warned about reliving that night. Bile thickened in her throat as Carl’s hands seemed to be all over her again, teeth biting on her nipple and his cold fingers inside her like blades. As tears gathered in her eyes, her mind conjured up a memory of Eric holding her, his green eyes warm and kind as they looked at her. She raised her head from the tent of her hands, concentrating on the memory of his warmth at her back as they slept, his arm around her waist protecting her from nightmares.

  “Will you kindly describe to the jury what you see, Mr. Kane?”

  “Objection! Mr. Kane is not a doctor nor a medical practitioner of any kind!” Callister yelled.

  “I was merely asking him to describe the photos, Your Honor, not make a medical assessment or provide an expert medical opinion,” Barry said smoothly.

  “Proceed, Mr. Horton. Mr. Callister, I’m not deaf.”

  Callister grumbled under his breath and slumped back in his seat.

  “I don’t know. Women’s breasts.” Carl sounded pissed.

  “What about their breasts, Mr. Kane?”

  “Objection!”

  “Overruled.”

  “Exactly what do you want me to say?” Carl demanded.

  “Answer the question, Mr. Kane,” McMoore snapped.

  Sasha dared herself to look at Carl. His pale eyes glittered, and a small sinister smile lurked at the corners of his lips.

  “There’s blood.” He spoke as if to savor the last word. Sasha took a deep breath.

  “Where’s the blood?”

  “The left nipple.”

  Despite the distance, Carl stared at Sasha’s breasts. She refused to look away, glaring back at him defiantly.

  “These are photos of two women who were under your employ. Mrs. Cohen,” Barry said, pointing with a stick at the photo on the left, then on the right, “And Miss Kennedy. This photo of Mrs. Cohen was taken the night of her sexual assault. The one of Miss Kennedy’s was from the afternoon your son attacked her. Five weeks after Miss Addison’s assault.”

  “Objection,” Callister interjected. “there is no proof of the assault allegedly committed by my client.”

  “Sustained.”

  Barry nodded. “Alright. Mr. Kane, you were asked to submit a DNA sample to compare the DNA found on Mrs. Cohen. They match.”

  Carl’s jaw was set. “I did mention to the court that the former Miss Addison liked it rough.”

  “Oh, yes. That was your explanation for her injury,” Barry turned briefly to the jury before looking back at him. “Now, for the information of the ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the photo of Miss Kennedy, and her injury, is a result of her being attacked by Mr. Kane’s son, Rocky. Clearly Mr. Kane did not do it as the DNA retrieved from her doesn’t match his. But if you notice the nature of the injury - ”

  “Objection,” Callister declared.

  “Mr. Horton,” McMoore warned him. “Speculation on another case is not allowed in my court.”

  “The nature of these injuries is similar, Your Honor, although the acts were committed by different persons.”

  “How does this further your argument?”

  “I intend to prove that this is a pattern of Mr. Kane’s, one that has been absorbed and now imitated by his son. For isn’t this the reason why your son is with Child Protection Services, Mr. Kane?”

  “Objection.” Callister protested.

  “Sustained,” McMoore declared.

  Barry was unfazed. “How often do you spend time with your son, Mr. Kane?”

  “Not as much as I’d like, regrettably.”

  “Yet he hurt his nanny in a similar manner to what you did with Mrs. Cohen.”

  “Objection!”

  “Sustained. I’m warning you, Mr. Horton!” McMoore didn’t sound pleased.

  Barry continued. “When you say you don’t spend much time with Rocky, Mr. Kane, could you tell us here in court how many times in a month you see him?”

  Carl’s eyes were cold. “I don’t keep a journal listing how frequently I’m with my son, Mr. Horton. But I can assure you and the court that he gets the best care and guidance when I’m not around.”

  “And the photo of Miss Kennedy is a good example of that care, would you say?”

  “Objection!”

  “Overruled.”

  “Where would Rocky get the idea of doing this,” Barry tapped the photo with the stick, “to a person, Mr. Kane?”

  “Objection! This has nothing to do with the case!”

  “I’ll allow it,” McMoore announced. “Answer the question, Mr. Kane.”

  “The internet. TV. Who knows? I’m a busy man, regrettably. I entrust my son to the care of individuals who must shape him into a decent human being.”

  “You believe it’s people you hire who are in charge of making sure Rocky, your son, grows into a decent human being, not you?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Why don’t you enlighten us?”

  “It’s simple. When I’m not there, people I trust and hire to take care of my son take over. When I’m home, it’s my turn. That’s it.”

  “How often are you at home, Mr. Kane? Like in a month?”

  Carl shrugged. “Often enough.”

  “You’ll have to give us a specific number, sir.”

  Callister shot to his feet. “What’s the point of this questioning? From asking my client to talk about injuries he knows nothing about and now to how often he spends time with his son?”

  “Sit down, Mr. Callister,” McMoore ordered. “Mr. Horton, get to the point.”

  “I’m trying to establish just how much time Mr. Kane spends with his son for him to become a decent human being, as he says,” Barry answered. Turning to the jury, he spread his arms in apology, “If you will bear with me, please. So,” he turned back to Carl. “Mr. Kane?”

  “I’m home every two weeks,” he said.

  Barry nodded and went to his briefcase. He pulled out a folder. “This information was obtained under a search warrant of your residence and your office, Mr. Kane. According to here,” he said, opening it and rifling through the papers, “You’re out of the country nine months out of a year. And when you are in the country, you spend two months in Bradsworth, in Wren Hill, Wakefield. You are in Bay City, where your son lives, one month out of twelve.” He held it up. “Your Honor, I’d like to submit Exhibit E. These are summaries as well as copies of Mr. Kane’s travels from the present year going back to two years.” He handed them to the judge.

  “I’m a busy man, Mr. Horton. I have a legacy to take care of. Over a thousand people rely on me for their jobs.” Carl said.

  “How do you teach your son to be a decent human in one month, Mr. Kane?” Barry asked. He pointed at the photo of Oriole’s breasts. “Is this what you teach him for one month?’

  “Objection!”

  “Overruled.”

  “I have no further questions.” Barry took his seat next to Sasha.

  Callister got up from his seat. “Mr. Kane, what school does your son attend?”

  “Devon Preparatory,” Kane answered stiffly. He was still glaring at Barry.

  “Devon Prep,” Callister said the name with reverence. “The best private school in the country, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “They have high standards, yes.”

  “How old is Rocky?”

  “He’s ten.”

  “Ten years old. What grade?”

  “He’s in the sixth g
rade.”

  “Sixth grade. How come?”

  “He skipped a year due to excellent academic standing.”

  Callister faced the jury. “And we can say, on his way to being a decent person.”

  “He’s my son. Of course, he is.”

  “That’s all, Mr. Kane. I have no more questions.”

  “You may step down, Mr. Kane,” McMoore told him. To Barry, he said, “Your next witness.”

  “I’d like to call young Mr. Rocky Kane on the stand.”

  Sasha heard the doors open. She looked at Barry, concern in her eyes. But he shook his head.

  “He’s a key witness, Sasha.”

  “He’s a child.”

  “Yes. Unfortunately.”

  Sasha couldn’t bear to look as Rocky was led to the stand. She knew that father and son had not seen each other since the boy was taken away by Child Protection Services.

  Yet, for a child who hadn’t seen his father for months, Rocky only gave him a smile. He looked surprised but didn’t greet him or acknowledged him any more than this.

  Rocky was made to swear on the holy bible, raising his hand and stating his complete name, age, and address. As he spoke, his pale blue eyes darted from one face to the next before settling on Sasha. He frowned.

  Then, he shot her a look of pure hatred.

  Sasha was stunned. She had never expected anyone, let alone a child, to look at her as he had. Barry must have noticed it too because he glanced at her then Rocky.

  She should have known it was a portent of things to come.

  Rocky Kane’s testimony was . . . sickening.

  To say the least.

  Eric wondered if he was the only one who thought that Rocky was shooting Sasha dagger looks. He was a child, and from what Carl said, he was smart. But there was something in his eyes. An emptiness. When he smiled, and it was often, it didn’t reach his eyes.