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She gives me a guilty look.
“Why didn’t you just ask me?”
“I wasn’t sure how. We’d never talked about exclusivity. I didn’t want to come off accusatory. But I knew if you were sleeping with other women, it would be a deal breaker for me.”
“There’s no one else I want but you. No one. This place served its purpose when I needed it. Now it’s simply a private place to meet my friends. Or it was.”
“I’m sorry, Broadie.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. We should’ve talked about this before you were forced to consider I wanted something different. I’m sorry you had to take things into your own hands now that rumors are spreading.”
She lifts her hand to my face, stroking my hair. The act feels so natural, as if she’s done it for years.
I start to mimic her actions but lift the strands of her wig, arching a brow.
Poppy giggles. “How did you know it was me?”
“I’d know you anywhere.” I laugh. “But my security spotted you.”
She shifts in my lap, alarm on her face, and I realize I better at least let her know this much. “I’ve had my security department keep an eye on you.”
“You what?”
Here we go.“Poppy, I’m sorry. I’m a wealthy man. With that wealth comes risk. And
Sometimes, the people at the greatest risk are those who mean enough to me to have bargaining power.”
She remains silent, eyes wide, appearing stunned.
“I have them assigned to me, my daughters, and you.”
“I mean that much to you?” she practically whispers.
“Yes. I know this is new. And we haven’t had the opportunity to develop a relationship the normal way. But get one thing straight. You’re mine. And no one touches what’s mine.”
Holding my breath, I prepare for her to push back on my power play. Yet I’m greeted with a shy smile. As if she’s proud to claim the role.
“Are we good, Poppy?”
“Yes.”
I can’t put this off any longer. “Who’s the guy?”
“Who?”
“The guy who got you in here. Because I know Nick and Kat aren’t members.”
“Jeez. You’re good. You recognized them, too?”
“Those two are hard to miss.” I laugh. “Who. Is. He?” I accentuate each word.
“I don’t really know him, Broadie, honestly. His name is George. He’s a friend of theirs. I only met him today at their house.”
She seems sincere. I make a mental note to have Stu look into him. But for now, I reach for my phone, sending a text to Stu and Porter, asking them to get the jet ready.
“Good. Because there’s the matter of this hair, these shoes, and this fucking dress to contend with.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
