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“No, you can’t quit. But when we’re at the club, I don’t want you leaving my side or talking to anyone other than me, understand?”
“That’s not fair!”
“I’m not saying this as your boss, Charlotte.”
The argument dies on my lips as I stare up at him.
“Then, what…”
“You’re my son’s…friend, and it’s my job to protect you. No one will hurt you here, but I don’t feel comfortable throwing you into the lion’s den on your first day. Understand?”
My body temperature cools about a hundred degrees. Here I am thinking about Emerson’s hot pecs and big hands while he sees me as a kid, as one of his son’s friends. I feel like an idiot.
Why couldn’t Beau’s dad be ugly?
“Let’s go see Maggie,” Emerson says, letting go of my arm and turning his back to me. I’m frozen in place for a moment, and when he gets to the door, he waits for me to follow. Once I reach his side, his hand returns to that comforting place at the small of my back. I hate myself for how much I love that, but I can’t stand the idea of him being angry at me. He nudges me gently out the door and down the hall. This time, I just keep my eyes forward instead of letting them trail into the various open rooms we pass on the way to the office.
RULE #9: DRESSING LIKE A HOOKER COMES IN HANDY.
Charlie
“Iwas only trying to protect you,” he mumbles quietly on the drive home.
“What?”
I can’t stop picking at the chipped black polish on my nails since that incident in the throne room. I hate how naive I feel. I hate how controlling Emerson is and how small I am in his presence when he tells me what to do. And dammit, I want him to acknowledge that.
“You have to be careful around those guys, especially Drake.” His eyes glance over to my body, and I realize he’s referring to my scandalous outfit.
“Is he bad?” I ask, knowing full well I have no interest in him. He was handsome beyond words, but he just didn’t feel like my type. Of course, after Beau, I’m not quite sure I know what my type is.
“Drake isn’t bad at all. He’s a good friend, but he’ll fuck anything that moves and you’re too young, Charlotte.”
I clench my jaw and turn away. “If you’re going to keep treating me like a child, then you really shouldn’t have hired me.”
I spot the muscles of his jaw clench in unison with mine. We stay silent for the rest of the drive. After he pulls into the garage, he climbs out and turns toward me.
“Have you spoken to Beau lately?”
I catch his expression over the top of the car, and I see a hint of desperation on his face. “I saw him at the mall yesterday.”
His eyebrows lift, and his spine straightens. “How was he?”
I consider my answer for a moment. Should I sugarcoat it and tell him Beau is great and not the overgrown man-child without direction that he is? Would that make him feel better? I settle on cutting to the chase instead. “He wants his half of the security deposit. He was pretty mad at me for not getting it for him.”
Emerson’s brow flinches at my words. “Mad at you?”
“Yeah, in Beau’s eyes, I’m nothing but a fuck-up. A loser and an idiot.” I don’t know why I’m telling him this, the words just seem to pour out of my mouth.
His expression hardens from confusion to anger. “He does not think that.”
“Yes, he does.”
I circle around the car, meeting him near the trunk. He’s silent, as if he’s deliberating. And I’m sure he’s thinking of ways of getting Beau here to get his half of the check. It’s really a great piece of bait if he wants to see his son.
I’m a little surprised by his next words. “You’re none of those things, Charlotte.”
I scoff. “You barely know me.”
