Page 119 of Gilt

I don’t point out that he’s the only West on her list. I read between the lines instead.

CHAPTER FORTY

Life falls into a rhythm that’s steady but building in intensity. Hopeful reporters hover at the end of the family’s private drive. A handful of friends finagle invitations to sit by the grotto’s pool. Television networks negotiate private interviews.

When I answer the door early one morning, I’m stupid enough to accept a package.

“Don’t!” Jameson calls out, but it’s already in my hands. He snatches it away. Inside, there’s a subpoena for me to appear at a medical clinic by the end of the week.

“I don’t understand.” I study the letter like it’s written in ancient greek, but he’s on the phone with his lawyers. He talks to them so often that we should ask them to move in.

They want your blood, he mouths before his call connects.

My life has become a game of playing house with a billionaire’s toys, all while under a microscope. If I’m not careful, whoever holds that lens might use it to set me on fire.

By the end of the week, this is my new normal, and I hate it. The only positive in this whole nightmare is when Jameson appears at the breakfast table in a three-piece suit and tie.

I whistle when he comes into the room.

“Doesn’t he clean up nicely?” Evelyn reaches out to ruffle his hair, but he sidesteps her.

“Duchess, a word?”

I hurry after him, but when I round the corner to the living room, he sweeps me off my feet. I grip his tie as he kisses me deeply.

“Mr. West,” I say breathlessly when we break apart.

“Mr. West was my father,” he says in a tight voice.

“And now it’s you,” I whisper, straightening the knot of his tie. I bite my lip, and he groans.

“If you keep it up, I’ll never make it out of here,” he warns in a dark voice.

That’s exactly what I want. I didn’t know Nathaniel West. I grew up conditioned to be prejudiced against him. The more I learn now, the less I want to know. Something about Jameson willingly taking up his place, even if only in the family business, makes me uneasy.

“I want you to keep Maddox with you today.”

“That almost sounds like a request,” I murmur with approval.

The muscles in his jaw clench before he admits, “It is.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I remind him.

“The reporters will—”

“Let me worry about that. We had an arrangement,” I cut him off before he can renege on our agreement that Maddox is at my disposal. Brushing a renegade copper strand from his forehead, I continue, “Go play with your billions.”

“Yes,” he says dryly. “I think my first order of business will be building a large vault filled with gold coins that I can dive into Scrooge McDuck style.”

“I’m sure the board will approve.”

He chuckles, but there’s a nervous edge to his laughter. When he finally lowers me to my feet, he pauses with his hands on my waist. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” With the whole world burning around us, it’s amazing that those three little words nearly knock me off my feet every time he says them.

“Give Maddox a chance, and stay safe.” It’s not a request, it’s an order. I salute him before I push him towards the front door. He steals one final kiss before he climbs into the back of a chauffeured sedan.

Getting out of the house without being hounded by wannabe reporters looking to score their big break is the real trick. The driver will deliver him to the West Corporation headquarters. I have no clue how I’ll get by them. I dress in a black wrap dress, pinning my hair low on my neck. No make-up or lipstick. As much as possible, I need to blend in. I head towards my Mercedes, which has been parked in the driveway since Jameson had someone retrieve it from the desert.