Not many people had heard of the Carstairs. Sure, the name popped up now and again, normally as people passed shops and saw the small notice under the name of the shop – In ownership of Carstairs Industries. Suffice to say, not many people remembered the line that was plastered in small italic print under every place they owned. It was hard to believe, even for me – the person who was dating the heir of the organization – that it had gone unnoticed for so long when the name was everywhere you looked.
It came in all shapes and forms, from the boldest black to a faded grey, sometimes the words were illegible due to the font that was used, and sometimes it caught your attention before you registered what the shop was called that you were looking at. It was hard to believe that when you asked anyone about the name (and it certainly wasn’t a common one at that) that only one in ten could recall memories of seeing it somewhere, and only one in fifty could place the name and where they had seen it.
I was one of the reclusive 0.1% that could safely say that they knew where the name resided, who possessed the name and how much money was attached to it. The only other people I knew who could tell you were the actual Carstairs family themselves and Jace and he only knew because I told him when I found out that my boyfriend, sweet, shy James Carstairs was set to inherit and multi-million pound business when his father retired.
James had only told me when he was sure I wasn’t going to take advantage of his money, since one of his brothers (he had thirteen), had managed to get his share of the inheritance nabbed from him when he married some girl called Abigail. Although it wasn’t really that surprising considering he had at least a dozen sports cars, always took me to the most expensive of places and lived in a house that was at least four times the size of mine, complete with a working fountain and swimming pool. He even had stables, what kind of guy has stables in his backyard?
Eventually I got used to it, I even managed to convince him that I wouldn’t care if he was poor and starving and that him having a few million pounds in his pocket in the future wouldn’t change a thing (even if it would make a really good backup if I went broke). It didn’t mean I got used to when he took me to too some expensive place in the town and everyone started to stare at me when I walked in with him.
When I say that Carstairs name was practically unknown I mean in my social circles, in his, it’s like a flashing neon sign saying this person is important and has lots of money, worship them.
Each time he took me somewhere, anywhere, where people he knew were there I was like the shiny new toy they had just bought. There were questions, unnecessary touches and awkward conversations as well as threats and warning about James’ feelings. They acted like I didn’t love him, and I did, I really did, I wouldn’t hurt him, not if I could help it.
This time though no one took any...