Harold sat at his usual table, wondering if Hockley would even show up. Really, he didn't know why the man would. Hockley didn't know him. He was just a faceless stranger with some kind of business opportunity, or so he had claimed. As far as Hockley knew, Harold could be some kind of robber. Hopefully, the man's curiosity would bring him so he can give the necklace back and send the man on his way back to Pittsburg. Hopefully. He didn't want to even think about the trouble that the man can bring on Jack and his family.
Jack. Harold couldn't help but smile at the thought of Jack Dawson. To be honest, he's had a crush on the young artist since they were young boys, when Jack was the only one who would stand up for him against the bullies. Jack was kind and well-liked and people tended to listen to him, so when he told the other boys to leave Harold alone, they listened and Harold had loved him ever since. And why wouldn't he? Jack was a stunning kid and now an even more stunning adult and his kindness and good heart were still intact, despite what must have been a hard life out there wandering the world. Harold couldn't help but feel for him even more now than back then.
It really was too bad that Jack could never feel the same way. Not even a little bit. No part of him was like Harold, and he knew that. So he accepted it and was just satisfied with Jack's trust and friendship.
Sighing, Harold looked towards the door and froze as his gaze fell on a tall handsome man with dark eyes and black hair who was the very picture of the first-class gentleman. Just by looking at him, Harold could tell that even if the man had a liking for the ladies, there was a part of him that was like Harold himself and if left to his own devices, could go either way. He watched as the man took out a small square mirror to make sure that every hair was in the perfect place. A dashing smile of satisfaction told Harold that the man was satisfied with his looks and now the man was scanning the room as if searching for someone.
Could this be…? No, it couldn't…
The man was suddenly at his table, a perfect eyebrow arched as he looked at Harold curiously. "Are you Harold Flowers? You sent a message asking me to meet you here," Caledon Hockley questioned, his dark eyes now flashing with suspicion. "You wanted to discuss some business opportunity?"
"Caledon Hockley I presume," Harold made himself smile, trying to ignore the tiny spark of attraction he felt towards the man. It wasn't new. Caledon Hockley was a handsome man and the attraction he felt was something he normally felt towards good-looking men. It didn't really mean anything, especially with how hung up he still was on Jack.
"Yes. I am Caledon Hockley of Hockley Steel. I am surprised that you've heard of us, all the way out here in Wisconsin, Mr. Flowers."
Harold just laughed. "You should not be so surprised, Mr. Hockley. Hockley Steel is a nationally known company. Everyone knows who you are. Imagine my surprise when my people told me that you were in town. I had to take this opportunity to meet you. Not only for business reasons...but personal ones as well."
Cal frowned. "Personal? Sir, I do not even know who you are. What personal business can you have with me?"
"Please, take a seat and we'll get started," Harold motioned to the chair that was right across from him.
Cal frowned, not knowing what to make of this situation at all. Keeping his eyes on Harold, he sat down. "Alright, sir. Tell me why I am here."
Harold took a silk sack out of the inner pocket of his jacket and sat it on the table before sliding it over to Cal. "I take it that you came here for this."
Cal frowned and picked up the sack and gasped when he looked to see what was inside. He looked at Harold with startled eyes. "How did you get this? Where?"
"That does not matter. I was told that it belongs to you and that I was to return it to you as soon as possible and send you on your way. That is the reason that you are here in Chippewa Falls, is it not? The infamous Heart of the Ocean?"
Cal felt like laughing. Oh, this was too good. Dawson and his whore probably thought that returning this necklace would get rid of him. That he'd just leave them in peace. Well, they had another thing coming. Even though he was happy to have the necklace back, and he was engaged, he was here for his sister. Beyond that...well...he did not like to be made a fool of and that's exactly what Rose had done with her stunt of faking her death. No, he could not just let this go. He needed more than just the return of the necklace.
"Where are they?" Cal's voice was cold and insistent. He was not going to leave here without an address.
"You have your necklace, Mr. Hockley. There is no need for any further contact."
Cal looked Harold in the eye, his own dark gaze cold and dangerous. "And who are you sir to say that there is no need for further contact? Do you know what they did to me?"
"What they did or did not do is not important here…"
"They made a fool of me, Mr. Flowers and I am not someone that likes to be made a fool of. Besides, my former fiancee is not the real reason I am here in this small town. No, Rose is the least of my concerns at the moment."
"So you are not here because of the Dawsons?" Harold frowned.
"Oh, so Dawson did marry the whore? I'm not too surprised. But, no. They are not the reason that I am here. My sister, who was influenced by Rose's bad behavior, had run away from home. A private detective had tracked her to this small village. I am here to collect her and take her back home, where she will be married off to one of our father's business partners straight away. That is my reason for being here. Of course, the Dawsons are just a bonus I suppose," Cal looked at Harold curiously, wondering how Dawson came to know such a man of high standing. "How do you know of Dawson and my fiancee, sir?"
"Jack was a boyhood friend. I had just reconnected with him. He's a good man, Hockley. I don't want you causing trouble for them."
Cal just laughed derisively. "And what would you do if I did cause trouble, sir?"
Harold leaned forward, his normally pleasant and friendly face darkening with his frown. "Don't let the last name fool you, Hockley. My family business is not exactly on the law-abiding side. Us Flowers are pretty powerful among these parts and maybe even beyond. Leave. Jack. And. His. Family. Alone. That is my first and only warning."
"I am not afraid of you, sir."
"Well, maybe you should be. I know men like you, Hockley. I know what you like. You're the kind that keeps...boys on the side while they take wives for appearance's sake...or maybe you actually care, I don't know. But I know you. I know what scandals can be uncovered about you. You make me angry and it'll all become public."
Anger, indignation, and maybe even a little bit of fear flashed across Hockley's face as he too sat forward. "Like recognizes like, Mr. Flowers. I am not the only one with secrets. You reveal mine, perhaps I'll reveal yours. Is this a game you really want to play over the likes of Jack Dawson? Someone beneath us both?"
This time outrage was clear in Harold's eyes. "Don't you fucking dare say something like that about Jack Dawson! He is worth ten thousand of the both of us put together! He is more of a gentleman than both of us ever can be! That's why you hate him, so much, isn't he? Someone poor and from the lower classes has more dignity and stature about himself than you ever could contain. Or is it something else?"
"What do you mean?"
"Jack is very very pretty. If he went that way, you probably could have had him, and you probably did want him...but he doesn't go that way. Your fiancee got there first and that pisses you off."
Cal got up out of his chair, his hand balled into a fist, ready to send it plummeting down onto Harold's face, but he soon realized where he was. He uncurled his hand, cleared his throat, and straightened his suit jacket. "This conversation is hereby over. I thank you for returning my property, sir. Good day."
"I mean it, Hockley. Stay away from the Dawsons."
"You sir, do not tell me what to do. I only take orders from one man and you are not him. Now good day," Cal turned around and briskly walked to the exit, not bothering to look back.
Annoyed, Harold balled up a napkin and tossed it onto the table. That had not gone well at all and it was his own fault. He should never have threatened to out the man like that. Now Jack may pay the price for his own carelessness. How was he ever going to forgive him if the worse should happen? Dejected, Harold got up, gathered his belongings, and headed for home with the knowledge that he had failed and it was his own fault.