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She nods and a beat passes. “Do you know Henry? Can you introduce me to him?”
I move in closer, realizing for the first time in my life that my business instincts work just as well in an emotional sense as they do a logical one. I’ve been told I can read businessmen like a book, but when it comes to people I’m clueless.
Not this time. I was right. Fate did bring this amazingly beautiful creature to me. She belongs to me, and for a reason. But why?
“What happened to your father?”
“He…” her eyes close as she inhales, then opens them slowly as she exhales. “He’s no longer with us.”
My fists tighten at the memory of the man, and at the realization I’ll never get to say goodbye to him.
But I’m going to grant what appears to be his final wish, that’s for damn sure…because it’s my wish too.
I’m going to take care of his daughter, make her mine. Hell, she might not even know it yet, but she already is.
“I’m Henry Hughes,” I confess, and her legs swing out from the couch and she’s immediately in a sitting position, her eyes raking over me just as mine are over her.
“And you’re safe now. You never have to worry about anything again.”
“I…well…I mean…”
I move even closer, bringing a finger to her lips. “Because you’re mine now, and I take care of what’s mine.” I pause, letting it sink in. “Understand me, precious?”
She nods, saying nothing. We’ll have to work on that, and we have time. Oh do we ever have time.
All of it. Because she’s not just mine for tonight or for Halloween. She’s mine…forever.
3
Hannah
This guy just met me and he’s talking about taking care of me?
I should turn around and beat feet outta here, but something tells me there’s more to this than meets the eye. There’s just something about…him. Something about the idea that I don’t have to struggle anymore, or at least for awhile until he gets tired of me and asks me to go, but strangely I don’t get that vibe.
Guys always seem to want one thing and one thing only, and after they get it once, or maybe a few times at best, that’s that.
But Henry is older and it’s easy to see he’s successful beyond anything I’ve ever seen. Just standing in front of his house told me that. Actually being inside now only cemented that thought.
The fine Italian leather furniture…the paintings on the walls…the fact he’s the only one here not in a Halloween costume, it all adds up.
“Homelessness isn’t a costume,” a woman who looks like she stepped off the cover of Playboy says from the doorway as she eyes me up like she wants to take the fake syringe she’s carrying, probably full of alcohol and food coloring, and insert it right into my vein like it’s some kind of Russian polonium poison.
“I told you to leave, Greta,” Henry reminds her through gritted teeth.
“I want to see the new arrival, and as your assistant it’s my responsibility to greet her.”
She looks me up and down, rolls her eyes, and turns her back to me. Hardly a greeting.
“You’re no longer my assistant. Out,” he says, pointing out the window.
“Fine, I’ll go back to the party, but be sure to look for me when the clock strikes midnight.”
“I won’t be looking for you at midnight or ever again. As a matter of fact all I’ve been looking for is your replacement, and she just walked in.”
“You’re? You can’t fire me!”
“I just did.”
