Page 70 of The Roommate Subtext

“I own you,” Chauvel hissed, his voice as quiet as hers but far more deadly. “All I have to do is say the word, and your bank accounts are frozen, your sister’s lab loses funding … maybe worse.” He smiled, cold and ruthless. “It would be terrible for the forensic accountant to find evidence that you were willfully obstructing a federal investigation, wouldn’t it?”

Maggie’s stomach dropped. “That’s not fair.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” His expression was ruthless, and she knew he wasn’t bluffing. He would ruin her life over nothing, like he was trying to ruin the Pimpernel’s. She moved woodenly through the steps of the dance, her options dissolving away like smoke.

Maybe the Pimpernel was the sacrifice she had to offer up for her and Cora’s happiness.

Chauvel seemed to recognize that he was winning. “You don’t have to publish his identity. But I want a better article, all the sordid details, and I want to know who he is. Surely he’s asked to meet you by now. There’s only so much you can do online.”

Maggie felt numb, disconnected, like she was outside of her body. She saw herself nod.

Chauvel considered her. “Just tell me where and when. And you won’t have to think about it ever again. Hell, I’ll even double your price, if it’s about the money.”

She looked past Chauvel’s shoulder at Blake: sweet, good-hearted, kind Blake. What did she know about the Pimpernel? She knew a handful of facts from some casual conversations. She knew his kinks and how they aligned with hers. If she tried, maybe she could pretend none of it had meant anything.

“Monday at seven. The Weatherfield restaurant.”

When the words were out, she felt nothing at all.

“There we go.” He smoothed his thumb over her knuckles, and her skin prickled with discomfort. “Your sweet boyfriend doesn’t ever need to know. Take your money and know you’ve done a good job.”

Maggie remained silent, still numb.

At her continued silence, Chauvel scoffed. “It’s not like he was going to fall in love with you.”

He’d hit a nerve, and she tried not to react. She could see Chauvel for what he was, a mean-spirited, vindictive man who thought women belonged to him. But he also somehow knew that she had feelings for the Pimpernel, even if she didn’t know what to do with them. He thought she was being ridiculous.

Maybe she was.

The song ended, and Maggie stepped away without looking back at Chauvel. She headed directly for the bar.

She passed straight by Blake where he was still chatting with that woman, Cynthia H-something, not stopping to catch his eye even as her thoughts shifted to him. Chauvel had been right about one thing: Blake was a good man. She liked him. He was kind, and funny, and friendly, and hot in that tuxedo. Maybe she could forget about the Pimpernel and focus on what was right in front of her.

Blake didn’t like Arnold Chauvel, based on reputation alone. He hadn’t known Chauvel personally, but he’d heard stories about him: about the nepotism and misogyny underpinning his companies, about how he had quietly settled multiple lawsuits for sexual harassment. Tonight, seeing him in person, reinforced Blake’s dislike.

Most of all, Chauvel didn’t seem to treat Maggie well, and that was enough to set off Blake’s warning system. He didn’t like the fact that Maggie had chosen to work with him, but he understood that sometimes freelance work put a person in line with unsavory companions. And right now, they were dancing. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could tell that Maggie was upset at the conversation. Her posture was upright, back rigid, neck tense to the point that she would probably be sore later. Then Chauvel turned her with the music, and Blake could read Maggie’s face. Her expression was neutral, a huge red flag. Whatever Chauvel was saying, Maggie didn’t like it. Blake had to turn when Cynthia gestured for him to look at someone, some friend she had a story about.

When Blake was finally able to turn back, the song was ending, and Maggie was already leaving Chauvel’s embrace. She looked agitated, determined, maybe flustered, and he wanted to go to her. He took a moment to thank Cynthia for the dance and gave her hand a kiss, making her cackle with laughter. She blushed and waved him away. “Go on, get back to that woman of yours before I steal you away.”

Blake found Maggie taking a shot at the bar. “Hey.” He touched her shoulder. “You OK? That looked intense.”

She grimaced and nodded, then squeezed a lime into her mouth. “I’ll be OK.” She tucked the spent lime wedge into the shot glass and slid them back across the bar. “I hate that prick.”

Blake’s eyes narrowed. “Did he make a pass at you? I can have him thrown out.”

Maggie shook her head and led him away from the bar. “No. It’s just …” She paused, looking around. “Mind if we get a little air?”

The evening had started cold and gotten colder, and Blake put his jacket around Maggie’s shoulders as they found a spot to stand outside, a short ways away from the people taking smoke breaks. “There’s a financial investigation into my parents’ business dealings,” Maggie said without preamble. “Chauvel’s keeping the heat off me while it’s happening, and he’s supporting Cora’s lab at the same time. In exchange, I’m writing an exposé article for him.”

“I see.” Blake had a million questions, but he didn’t want to ask them right now, since clearly this was personal. He waited for Maggie to keep talking, and eventually, she did.

“It’s gotten out of control.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m in too deep, and I don’t want to be here. But I don’t know how to get out of it without financial repercussions for me and Cora. Maybe legal ones, too.”

Blake nodded. “What does Cora think?”

Maggie’s eyes popped open. “Oh, she doesn’t know any of this.” Blake raised his eyebrows, and Maggie drew the sides of his jacket in closer around herself, biting her lip. “I haven’t wanted to worry her.”

He thought back to what he knew about Maggie and Cora, what they’d been through together, the ways she had been both sibling and parent since she was far too young to do so. “Do you think she’d want you to take all this on alone?”