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I buttoned my blazer with one hand. “Now, let me tell you how the rest of your night is going to unfold if you wish to conduct business in the state of New York. Your date will return, and you will take her home, driving below the maximum speed limit. You will walk her to her door but won’t go inside. You will shake her hand—briefly— and tell her she looks lovely and is the most enthralling date you’ve ever had, but due to the fact that she is severely out of your league, you will bow out and make way for someone who actually deserves her. Then, you will disappear from her life permanently. Now, do you need me to write that down for you?”
His fork fell from his fist to the plate with a clatter.
He opened his lips but couldn’t manage to speak, confirming my suspicion that nothing existed between his ears other than get-rich-fast Bitcoin schemes and fetish porn.
I snapped my fingers in front of his eyes, losing my patience. Eileen was staring, and I didn’t want to prolong this more than needed.
Now that I’d discovered the pleasures of sex, I figured I’d be doing her a disservice by trapping her in a marriage without it. She could find her own Octi to cure her (best of luck—mine was one of a kind).
“Am. I. Clear?” I repeated.
He gulped. “Y-yes.”
“Good.” I brushed lint off my shoulder, a cold smile playing on my face. “Remember, Oatmeal—if you hurt her, if you offend her, if you try to hit on her, I’ll know, and I’ll retaliate.” I adjusted the collar of his shirt without touching him. “Enjoy your baked pasta dish.”
Being waited on, I decided, was even worse than being the actual housekeeper.
The entire weekend at the Hamptons, Zach sent his staff to coddle me. I found myself being chased by people begging to make me another smoothie, draw me a bath, fetch me Starbucks, and drive me around for a shopping spree.
“I have legs, a driver’s license, and agency,” I’d growl at them to the backtrack of Zach’s amused chuckle somewhere in the distance. “Please, for the love of God, take a break. Watch a movie. Treat yourself to something from the pantry. Leave me alone.”
With Eileen gone, a weight lifted off me. She’d rushed off to an emergency patient in the middle of her dinner with Zach and hadn’t returned.
The entire weekend, Andras blew up my phone with texts, begging me to reconsider my position on Vera.
I called him once, demanding to know why he felt so strongly about it. He dodged my question, insisting he was looking after me and my interests.
I was frustrated and confused, but mostly disappointed.
I’d thought Andras was on my side.
Zach and I acted recklessly, slipping to the rose garden to steal kisses and orgasms. Guilt sat in my stomach like a brick, sinking me down, and yet—I was a willing participant.
At night, he’d crawl into my bed, wringing emotions and sensations out of me I didn’t know existed.
He worshiped every part of my body, and for the first time in my life, I felt like someone’s choice, not default. To the extent that I realized we needed a frank conversation about where we were headed.
This didn’t feel like a project anymore.
It felt like forever.
Afew hours before our flight home, Zach left a note on my nightstand.
Two p.m. at the rose garden.
The butterfly wings caressing the walls of my belly told a tale as old as time.
Zachary Sun wasn’t my boss and my fling—he was my everything.
It was time to have the talk I’d put off for months.
I arrived at the bench in the garden a few minutes early. Lush red-and-white flowers and thorns cradled the swan-shaped stone, twisting into one another like swords.
I busied myself with my phone, skimming emails from my lawyers. I’d never been a coward, but telling Zach my feelings gave me cold sweats.
The rustle of leaves swished behind my back. I glanced up from my phone, surprised to see Eileen trudging in my direction.
Her heels dug into the damp soil. A brown maxi dress swayed as she walked, paired with a thin Hermès belt.
