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Another shrug. “Happens all the time.”
He gripped the steering wheel, half pissed at the truth in those words. When he’d first laid eyes on her, he’d assumed she’d give up faster than the last assistant. He’d completely underestimated her.
He nodded out the windshield to the apartment over Sable Concierge. A pumpkin sat on the stoop alongside a potted purple mum. “Who lives up there?”
“I do.”
Just as he’d suspected.
“There’s more.”
A stunned, “Ha!” exited his lips, but when he turned to take her in, Isa looked chagrined. His smile vanished.
“What more?” he asked, the first hint of gruffness eking into his tone. He wasn’t a fan of being left in the dark.
“Tonight.” She licked her full, pink lips and he fought not to let the seductive move affect him. “It’s my parents’ function.”
“Not your ex-employer?” He hoisted an eyebrow.
“Actually…” She screwed her lips to the side, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Both. The event is for Sawyer Financial Group.”
Sawyer. Financial. The institution was a Chicago treasure. They did planning of all kinds—taxes, retirement, business—and their roster of clients was among the most elite. Isa wasn’t raised in a middle-class family, not even close. She’d grown up as rich as he had.
“It’s not a long story,” she continued. “I’ll tell you while we drive to the Vancouver.”
Isa liked to tell him what to do. Liked to be in charge. He wasn’t inclined to let her call the shots tonight.
“You can tell me now,” he said, taking his hands off the wheel and sitting back in his seat. To her credit, she did.
“My ex-boyfriend is going to be at this function. Because he’s the one who is accepting the position of president.” She regarded her hands. Her sounding and looking small was such a departure from what he knew of her. He didn’t like her that way—not at all.
“I was groomed for running Sawyer Financial my entire life,” she said. “My parents introduced me to Josh. We were to be the power couple that someday ran the company,” she told him, meeting his eyes. “My parents knew I didn’t want the future they’d laid out for me.”
“Sounds like an arranged marriage.”
“Felt like one,” she said, a sad smile twitching her mouth. “But without the marriage part. Josh planned on taking the position of president, and he said I could be VP or run staffing. Whatever made me happy.”
“How generous of him,” Eli said through clenched teeth, hating the jackass already. It was so obvious that Isa was a leader. The only reason her ex would have slotted her into a position less than the top—at her family’s own company no less—was his own moronic need for control.
“He’s the son my parents never had. It broke their hearts when we split. They blamed my stubbornness and my obsession with going into business for myself for driving him away.”
“They wanted you to fulfill their dreams, not yours.” He could relate. His father and brothers wanted him to be a part of the Crane legacy. If Eli had felt he’d earned it, he’d have already suited up. But that wasn’t the case with Isa. She’d earned it; she just didn’t want it.
“My parents wouldn’t care that Josh dated me only to climb the ladder. They care about appearances as much as he does. Whenever the topic of my running a firm for assistants comes up, I can see the embarrassment on their faces. I may as well have gone into trash collection or cleaning hotels.”
“Both honorable positions,” Eli said defensively. He didn’t station anyone into categories of high or low. He’d been raised to see people as equal no matter their income.
Isa’s cheeks pinked at his unintentional correction. “I’m…I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know.” He put his hand on hers, running his thumb over hers, feeling the softness of her skin and enjoying the length of time she held his gaze. Yes, Isa was beautiful. She was also complex and caring. She was more than the president of a bank, and her parents should have assessed that years ago. He could see it already and had only known her a few weeks.
“No other secrets about your vocation or parentage, then?”
“No, I think that’s it.” She smiled prettily.
“All right.” Eli reversed out of the parking lot, noting that Isa watched as he maneuvered the gas and brake pedal on the left side rather than his right. He pulled onto the road, hitting the gas pedal and taking off a little too fast. He wasn’t used to being watched so closely. He regulated his speed a second later.
“So this Josh? You want me there because of him? Or were you serious about men, plural, hitting on you?”
