Page 29 of Surrender


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I folded my arms across my chest. “I didn’t have a choice.”

He huffed. “This is a game you don’t want to play, Emily. Blackwing is fucking with me. I get it. But I want you to stay out of it. Don’t go near them, especially Eloise.”

“I didn’t. She came to me. She found me.” I stormed back to the kitchen. Vaughn followed me. “I was trying to buy a damn coffee table.”

I thought I saw a flash of concern in his eyes. “Tell me what she said. Everything she said.” His voice was calmer.

I scraped the leftover bits of kale and spinach off the salad plates. “She said you weren’t acting quickly enough. She said it was my fault and I needed to do something to help you with your assignment.”

“That’s—” He stopped. “Ok. What else?”

“She said that I needed to invite the Auclairs for dinner. She told me Paul was at work and that Aubrey was home alone. It had to be tonight. I couldn’t put it off.”

Vaughn sighed. “Did she tell you why?”

“Not exactly. I tried to ask questions, but she wasn’t giving me much to go on.”

He shook his head. “This is fucking insane. You are supposed to be off limits.”

I stopped scraping plates. “She thinks I could help. That I could be useful.”

“No.” His eyes were piercing.

“Why not? You don’t think I can handle it?”

Vaughn buried his face in his hands. After a few breaths, he looked at me. “You are the one good thing in my life. The light. Remember? I’m not going to let them do this to you. Stay away from Eloise.”

“No one has done anything to me. I hosted a dinner party. It’s the most productive thing I’ve done in a month.”

“You want to work for Blackwing because you need a hobby?”

“No.” I didn’t know whether to feel insulted or humiliated.

“Let me guess. Eloise told you how brilliant you are. How you’re wasting your talents playing housewife. Was it something along those lines?”

My mouth hung open. “So you disagree?”

“No. Hell no. I know how smart you are. You’re smart enough to know she’s manipulating you. It’s what she does.”

“Just because she was trying to manipulate me doesn’t mean there wasn’t some truth in what she said. What am I doing? Picking out paint colors? Fabric swatches? Planning dinners with roasted chickens? Who am I here?”

“Babe, it hasn’t been very long.” His tone was gentler now.

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Maybe not for you, but for me three weeks of decorating has felt like three years. I haven’t looked at a court case. I haven’t discussed law. I haven’t helped anyone do anything. Except this dinner tonight. This was supposed to help you with your job. And even that didn’t require tremendous amounts of brain cells.” I pressed my hands into the counter. The stone was cool against my palms. “I saw the newspaper in your office. Are you going to pretend you didn’t hide it from me?”

“I thought it would upset you.”

Part of me was relieved he didn’t try to cover it up. “You know what working on Lana Foley’s case meant to me.”

“Yeah. I also know there’s nothing you can do about it. Reading about it is only going to make you want to—”

“Want to what?” I pressed.

He stared at me.

“What? You think it will make me want to read more? Call Lana? Go online? What? What could have possibly been so terrible about me reading the updates on the case? What did you think I’d do?” I tried to catch my breath.

“Leave,” he answered.

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