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“We should go,” I cut in before Margaret realizes she is being spoon fed a scam. I stand and draw Kayla up with me. “Our dinner is probably cold by now.”
Margaret collects the photographs and returns them to the folder. Then she turns to lead us out of her glass-walled office. “I will be in touch when the images appear online. We will handle the response.”
“Thank you,” I say curtly. I poured my soul onto her office rug. Now, I need to get the hell out of here.
“I can also hire a private investigator to look into Alexandra’s background,” Margaret offers.
I’ve thought about employing a PI ever since my ex showed me the first picture. But I don’t want a hired investigator delving into my past either. The less people who dig, the more likely it will stay buried.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” I say. “But I will let you know if I change my mind.”
“Please do. I have someone I trust to keep the focus on your blackmailer.”
Kayla glances at me, but I shake my head.
“Not yet,” I insist.
Margaret pauses in front of the elevator bay and offers a gentle smile. “I’m glad you’ve finally found some happiness, Gavin. You deserve it.”
The elevator doors open, saving me from finding an appropriate response. I give Margaret a curt nod and follow Kayla inside.
This isn’t happiness, I think. I’m on edge and trying to stay one step ahead of the woman threatening to tear apart my carefully crafted image.
Kayla releases my hand and glances at her phone. “When we get back to your place, ‘happiness’ will look like a nighttime walk with four dogs.”
“Is that what makes this relationship so new and special?” I ask dryly.
“Yes.” My supposed fiancée leads the way out of the elevator. “And the lack of sex.”
I laugh. I can’t help myself. The blackmail is following me around like a tornado waiting to spiral out of control and I’m fucking laughing.
And so damn grateful Kayla’s by my side.
She pushes through the door and heads to the black sedan parked on the curb. My gaze follows her, but I don’t move.
“Kayla,” I call after her. She can’t hear me. And that’s probably a damn good thing because I’m not sure what I would say next. A simple thanks for having my back doesn’t come close to conveying the magnitude of what she’s doing for me.
She’s putting herself in a world that destroyed her once. She’s sidelining her freedom, conforming to the rules of the public image game I’m so damn desperate to play and win. And she’s doing it all so that I won’t fall apart. If I am forced to admit I was the scared kid in those pictures, I will crumble. I just fucking know it in my gut.
But that won’t happen because I have this beautiful, smart, funny woman rushing to my defense.
“Kayla,” I murmur, “You’re the best fucking friend on the planet. I won’t let anything change that.”
Her fitted skirt rides up her thighs as she slides into the backseat of the town car. And yeah, I stare a little too long at her thighs while my driver holds the rear door open, waiting for me.
Anything I remind myself as I cross the empty sidewalk and join her in the backseat.
CHAPTER 10
GAVIN
“You’re doing what?” Zack Smith lowers his boxing gloves and I land a hit to his jaw.
“Don’t make this easy,” I say. “I need a decent workout this morning.”
I’m telling my sparring partner the truth. Last night, Kayla and I talked about our plans for today, her undying love for the chef of the Korean restaurant, and whether Luna needs a follow-up with a vet in Manhattan. We walked the dogs together. And we dragged the proverbial elephant in the room along for the trip—seeing evidence that my horrible past existed and could resurface.
Looking at those pictures, I felt like that kid again. The old doubts crept in, following me through Central Park, and after our walk, back to my penthouse bedroom. Why drag Kayla through this scheme? Why not send her back to the country? Was I really worth the effort?
