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Reid lifted a brow and glanced very pointedly at her watch. “It’s nine in the morning,” she said.
“Okay!” I said, my shoulders drooping in defeat. “I’m just… nervous about our, you know, marriage.” I whispered the last word in case anyone walked in and overheard us.
Reid glanced over her shoulder before gesturing for me to follow her into her office.
I did.
She waited until I was inside before she closed the door and followed me to her desk.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she offered, sitting down and ignoring her laptop.
I opened my mouth, closed it again, and sighed.
“You’re having second thoughts?”
“No!” I insisted. “God, no. I’m just nervous, I think. I keep expecting some official to bust down the door and throw us in jail.”
“Mia,” Reid said quietly. “That isn’t going to happen.”
“How can you be so sure?” I implored, a bit of my panic slipping through and making me almost desperate.
“Because you’re my wife,” she said. And it was so simple, so matter-of-fact, that for a moment I couldn’t react.
But her words sank in and heat rushed to my face, unbidden.
Reid didn’t give me a moment to respond before she carried on speaking like I wasn’t in the middle of an internal meltdown. “And as my wife,” she explained, “you have the same security I do. Perhaps even more.”
“More?” I murmured, my voice a little unsteady.
“When I was married to Daniella.” She sighed, then continued, “I arranged for a number of things, protocols, if you will, to be put in place. These protocols would give her access to everything I had access to, as well as my own private security and transport.”
I blinked and the confusion on my face must have been obvious because Reid smiled wider and leaned forward on her desk.
“When we got divorced, she lost access but those protocols still exist,” she said. “This means you effectively have your own personal security team, as well as lawyers, doctors, and whatever else you might need.”
“Oh.” It was all I could manage just then.
“Speaking of.” She steamed ahead. “When are you moving in?”
My thoughts came to a screeching halt. “M-moving in?”
“To my place.” Reid chuckled. “Remember? To keep suspicion at a minimum?”
“Oh, right,” I murmured. I’d entirely forgotten. “I guess I should do that soon.”
“Take your time,” Reid said, finally turning to her computer. “I’ve already asked security to add your credentials to the house system.”
I nodded and turned around, walking back to my desk in a slight daze.
Who the hell moved in with theirboss?
I looked around my apartment, my stomach heavy with anxiety and maybe just a little bit of dread.
When I first moved to America, I was most excited about getting my own place.
Living in Brazil, we’d been forced to live in a small home where my sister and I shared rooms, and all three of us shared a bathroom. We made it work, but the idea of having a space all to myself had been a dream come true.
And thinking about leaving it, leaving this space that I’d cherished and loved for six years…
