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I want to get out of here before anyone can talk me out of this.
Thirty minutes later, I text Fabien.
Me:
I’m ready.
Monsieur:
Good girl. Let’s go. I’m sending up my men to get your bags and escort you while I secure a car.
I have mixed feelings about the “good girl.” Sometimes, clients decide to be patronizing, and it annoys the hell out of me. I don’t know, though. There’s something different about Fabien. It doesn’t feel patronizing at all, but natural. As if he and I are meant to have these roles, only I’m not even sure what our roles are yet.
It’s as if I’m seeing only one side of him, a small part he’s chosen to reveal. Like an iceberg submerged under water, his true purpose is hidden beneath cold, dark depths. What will happen when I draw too close? Will I crash into what’s below the surface and sink to my death?
I start at the sound of a knock at the door. Minutes later, I’m escorted downstairs, uniformed guards holding my bags and the door for me.
I don’t care what anyone else says. I feel like a V.I.P. I’ve gotten the backstage pass.
I walk quickly so I don’t draw attention. I don’t need a lecture from any of the girls right now, though a part of me feels like I’m sneaking around behind their backs. When they find out, will they feel as if I betrayed them? They’re the only friends I have in this entire world.
The door to the elevator glides open. I glance around the lobby to see Gwen standing beside Fabien by the front desk. They’re having a heated conversation.
Dammit.
Gwen turns to me. “There you are. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. My phone’s mysteriously on the fritz.” She gives Fabien a pointed look. What’s that all about?
“Oh, really? What’s up?”
Gwen rolls her eyes dramatically and flips her hair. “What’s up? You know what’s up. You were assaulted yesterday, and I wanted to check on you. Not to mention the fact that Monsieur just told me you’re leaving.”
I nod. I don’t trust my voice.
“I’d like to talk to you privately,” she says warmly. “Please, Nicolette.”
I glance at Monsieur, not to ask for permission but to see his reaction. “We have time,” he says, after a glance at his watch.
I nod and step to the side with Gwen as his men walk with him to the exit, my bags in tow. Gwen grabs my hand and yanks me to her.
“What’s going on?” For one moment, she’s dropped the brazen attitude and looks almost… scared. “Are you okay? Are you under duress? You can tell me, Nicolette. I hope you trust me by now.”
My throat tickles. “Of course I do,” I whisper. “It’s fine. I promise. He’s been nothing but a gentleman.”
“Of course he has,” she says. A deep furrow knits her brow. “That’s what he’ll do. He’ll give you all the attention you want.” She looks over her shoulder, but we’re all alone here. “It’s just that… he’s not going to let you go. You can’t just… date, or flirt, or have a brief deal or anything like that. It isn’t like that with him. He’ll become obsessed with you. He won’t let you out of his sight. He’ll…” She looks around us again. “You’ll be the most important person in his universe. And it might feel nice at first…”
At first? What woman wouldn’t want to be the most important person in a rich guy’s universe? The more she talks, the more she convinces me I’ve made the right decision.
“Listen, he made me an offer, Gwen.” My voice wavers. “I need that money. It’ll mean I can leave here so much sooner than I ever planned.”
She looks pained, but she nods. “I don’t want to take that away from you.”
“Then don’t.” I don’t mean for my tone to be so harsh. I swallow and look away, suddenly teary. “I’ll be okay,” I promise her. “And if I need help, you’ll be the first person I call.”
“Nicolette?” Fabien’s deep voice carries across the lobby. Even though it’s my name he’s called, he’s got everyone’s attention. Dressed in a suit with his arms across his chest, I can see why. He’s intimidating as hell.
“I’m coming.” I lean in and give Gwen a hug. “I promise, I’ll stay in touch.”
She hugs me longer than I expect, with a tightness that says more than she could with words.
“Take care,” she whispers in my ear. “Please.”
I nod against her shoulder, extricate myself with difficulty, and walk toward Fabien.
I don’t look back.
I expect he’ll ask me about her conversation with me, but he doesn’t pry.
A luxurious white car purrs at the entrance to La Maison. Fabien opens the door for me.
“Ooh, now this is nice,” I say to him. I run my hand along the soft, buttery leather interior and sigh. It’s the very picture of luxury. I’ve never been in a car like this.
