I pick up a crostini with my fingers, nibbling at the edge. “You don’t seem like the dorm type.”
He lifts a shoulder. “I wanted the college experience. I lasted a year before using my trust fund to purchase a property off campus. Anyway, Julian’s ‘thing’”—he finger quotes the word—“is creating specialized menus for whoever he’s cooking for. He was doing it long before he ever opened hisfirst restaurant, but he doesn’t always have time to play in the kitchen these days.”
I finish my mouthful, reaching for my wine. “It feels like a lot for lunch,” I confess. “Especially considering why we’re here.”
Grafton’s attention is unwaveringly fixed on my face. “Why are we here, Lynley?” he asks softly.
I don’t answer straight away, picking up the second crostini on my plate and biting into it, giving myself time to gather my thoughts. To his credit, he doesn’t rush me, picking up one of his and eating it almost in one bite.
“The footage you have of my—” I squeeze my eyes shut, giving my head a little shake. “Of Christopher. I spoke to my lawyer. He said that if you give it to me, there’s a chance you could open yourself up to a lawsuit.”
Grafton’s expression doesn’t change. “I’m aware.” He pops a bite of his food into his mouth, his jaw working as he chews. “It’s a calculated risk, but worth it.”
My eyes widen, and I lean forward, my tone forceful as I demand, “Why’re you doing this? Nothing about this benefits you. I don’t understand what you could possibly hope to gain.” I drag a breath in through a suddenly dry mouth. “You don’t even know me.”
He doesn’t look away, the silence prolonged and evocative. I desperately want to look away, but it feels like I’m trapped, my eyes burning as I stare back at him unblinkingly.
“Lynne,” he says softly, and my stomach clenches uncomfortably. “I have everything to gain by helping you with this. The footage is already yours.” He tucks his hand inside his jacket, pulling a USB drive out of the inner pocket. He sets it on the table, sliding it into the middle. “This is everything you’ll need. Each video is time-stamped. There’s a chance he’ll argue that the videos have been doctored. He seems like the type. But if that happens, I can get my guy, Knox, to prove they aren’t.”
My fingers tremble at the sight of that USB, knowing it’s my ticket out—out of my marriage, out of the life that no longer feels like mine. But I’m terrified of the hidden costs if I accept it.
In my world, no one does something for the good of it.
“Lynne,” Grafton says again, and then waits for my eyes to slowly lift to his. “There are no strings here.” His smile is crooked, wry. “There are plenty of things I’ve done in my life that I’m not proud of, but I can promise that you and your children are the safest people in the world with me at your side.”
“You’re his boss,” I whisper. “I don’t know you.”
He nods his head, expression contemplative. “But you will,” he says, and it sounds like a vow. I swallow thickly, unsure what to say, but I’m saved when the server approaches to clear our plates.
Grafton waits for her to leave and then levels a steady look at me. “Will it affect your divorce if Christopher doesn’t have a job?”
My heart lurches in my chest. “What?”
He props his elbows on the table, lacing his hands together. “I’m assuming you have a prenup.” It’s not a question, making me wonder if he knows which family Christopher comes from. He waits for my nod of confirmation before continuing, “You have proof of his infidelity”—he taps the drive with a long finger—“so what does that mean for your prenup and divorce?”
I don’t know if I should be saying anything, but I find myself telling him. “My lawyer insisted on adding an infidelity clause.” My lips feel numb, my hands clammyand swollen. “It says that he forfeits his rights to the house, as well as being required to pay a lump sum to me for every year of the marriage. The division of our finances are split like normal, including any accounts that are currently in just his name.”
He eyes me thoughtfully. “Would Christopher have hidden money? Off-shore accounts?”
A bitter noise escapes me. “I can almost guarantee it.” Christopher has always been money-minded, even when he didn’t need to be. It only got worse after his father almost lost everything after several bad financial calls. “My lawyer helped me hire a PI. He’s looking into it.”
Grafton dips his chin. “I’ll have Knox look into it as well. He’s excellent at finding details people want to hide.” There’s a beat, his voice gentle as he asks, “And the children?”
I stifle the immediate panic at the question. It’s not something I’ve let myself dwell on, but as the weeks have gone by, and it’s become apparent how little I know Christopher, it’s become the thing that keeps me awake the most at night. I shake my head, whispering helplessly, “There’s nothing in there to stop him from going after custody. And he’ll fight me for them. I know he will.”
Grafton reaches across the table, capturing my trembling hand in his. “Don’t worry, Lynne,” he says soothingly, and I hate that it works. He’s a stranger, but it feels like he can see through to pieces of me that I’ve always carefully guarded. “We won’t let that happen.”
The urge to argue is on the tip of my tongue, but I fight it back. “Why are you asking about all this?”
He smiles, a devious light in his eyes, but he doesn’t answer as the server reappears with the main course.
Chapter 11
Grafton
Iwatch avidly as Lynley slips a spoonful of panna cotta between her lips, her expression dreamy as she savors the mouthful.
“Oh my god,” she says, hiding her lips with her fingers, eyes shining with delight. My cock hardens in my pants, like I’m some untried teenager, and I shift my weight, spreading my thighs to give myself more room. “This issogood.”
