My phone vibrates in my pocket.
A text from the boss.
Dominic Vale: So, do you play violin?
My mind goes back to the corridor, to how shockingly gentle his big hands were as he gently fastened my necklace. He was so careful not to hurt me. His hand was impossibly warm. And his husky breathing told a story that might exist entirely in my head.
When Kenny walked in, Dom left fast. Kenny—a short man with slicked-back brown hair coated in product—crossed his arms and looked at me for a beat too long. It was as if he were saying,Right, I see what’s happening here.
I quickly pushed past him, hoping he couldn’t see the heat blazing through me like wildfire.
I chew my lip, looking at the message. There’s being friendly with your employees, then there’s this, whatever it is. Why doeshe care if I play violin? Why does he care about anything beyond what I can give him as an employee?
Izzy: I used to. But it’s been a year. Or maybe even two. Time goes far too fast.
Dominic Vale: When did you start playing?
Izzy: When I was twelve. My grandma had a violin in the attic. She was going to sell it, but then she saw me playing with it and offered to teach me. She even started paying for lessons when she saw how enthusiastic I was. That was a big deal for her, because she’s never had much money.
I send the message quickly, before I can confront the cold fact that I’m oversharing. He doesn’t need to hear all this. But I can’t get that warm memory out of my head, his hands so gentle, his breathing so urgent, so…hungry.
Dominic Vale: That’s beautiful. She sounds like an incredible lady. Did your parents encourage you too?
Izzy: They weren’t around, unfortunately. They passed away when I was seven, then Grandma took me in. We had some other family members, but they were busy with their own lives.
This has gone too far. We’re delving into things we have no business going into.
Dominic Vale: I’m so sorry. That must’ve been awful, but at least you had someone there to love and support you. That’s the main thing. Did you love music? Or was it more of a hobby?
I’m flattered he’s taking an interest in me, but I can’t stop the alarm bells from ringing in my head. If I get too close to this man, it’ll only hurt us both that much more when it’s time to betray him. And, clearly, that time is going to come sooner rather than later.
Izzy: A hobby, I suppose. But I’ve always loved music. We weren’t in a position to send me to music school or anything like that. What about you? Do you play any instruments?
Dominic Vale: I used to love listening to my mother play the piano. But I could never get the knack for it. She used to joke I had big, clumsy fingers.
Izzy: Maybe you should tell her how well you handled the violin earlier.
Dominic Vale:
I stare at his reaction, an unstoppable smile spreading across my face. It’s a tiny thing, a little laughing emoji sitting next to my message. But somehow, it seems significant.
Dominic Vale: I love music too. I love the thoughtlessness of it. There’s no need to think, just feel, and everything else—work, life, stress, whatever—it can wait until later. When I hear a good song, that’s it. I love things like that.
Izzy: Things that make you exist in the present moment, that eradicate the past and the future?
Dominic Vale: Exactly. But there’s not much, honestly. Work does it for me sometimes.
Izzy: Nothing else?
I know, somehow, he’s talking about the moment in the hall. The moment when it felt like it was just us, his large, powerful, soft hands gently clasping my necklace.
I wait for a few minutes, but there’s no reply. The message doesn’t sayread, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t seen it. He could’ve seen the notification then decided not to open it.
Fine. Whatever. I’m not supposed to care, anyway.
I toss and turn in bed. The sheets tangled around me. I wake a few times, caught between dreaming and wakefulness. Each time, it’s like Dom is in bed with me, squeezing me tightly to him, his firm body making me tingle all over.
CHAPTER 6
