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That answer is easy and obvious. “Ben.” I start digging my heel into the floor again. “It’s hard enough dealing with three young, confused, grieving kids. Add a lazy, selfish drunk to the mix and the job gets ten times as hard.”
“Does he contribute at all?”
Wait… are we having an actual conversation?
“He took my sister’s death really hard.”
“Is that a no?”
I sigh. “No. He doesn’t contribute at all.”
There it is: the Oryolov scowl. But for once, it’s not directed at me. At least, I’m pretty sure it’s not. But just in case I’m wrong, I decide to quit while I’m ahead and excuse myself from the premises.
“Anyway, I’m gonna go fine-tune the guest list for next week’s cocktail—”
“Emma.”
I have no idea why goosebumps erupt over my arms. It may possibly be because he just slipped and used my first name. I’m always “Ms. Carson” and, as cold as that sounds, at least it’s safe. But “Emma”?Whoo boy,that’s dangerous.
“Yes?” I squeak.
“70-33-40.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s the access code to my penthouse. You can use it whenever you need.”
I stare at him with my mouth hanging open. What he’s saying is not computing. “Your… penthouse?”
He nods. “You have twenty-four-seven access. I want to make sure you have a place to go if you ever need to get away from your deadbeat brother-in-law or any other slimy reporters that may come your way. The kids are welcome, too, obviously. You can change the access code once you’re inside for added privacy and protection.”
At this point, my eyes feel like they’re about to burst out of their sockets. I subtly pinch the inside of my elbow to make sure I’m awake. It hurts.
Yeah, this is real.
“But then you’ll be locked out.”
He shrugs. “If that’s what it takes to make you and the children feel safe, I’m fine with that.”
Pinch or no pinch, I’m definitely hallucinating. That’s what’s happening here. Nothing else makes sense.
“I… I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just accept what I’m offering you.”
But that’s just it. What he’s offering me is so much more than a gesture. It’s safety. Security. Peace of mind.
And I’m pretty sure it’s an egregious breach of our contract.
Which is why, when I step toward him, it doesn’t feel quite so crazy. My heart is beating so hard that the vibrations run down my hands and make my fingers tremble.
I round his desk and stop at his knees. He glances up at me and I realize that I have maybe two seconds to either back out—or commit.
“I want to show you how grateful I am,sir,” I whisper, trembling as I sink down to my knees in front of him.
His expression remains intimidatingly aloof, but I notice the way his hands tighten around the edge of the armrests.
“Emma…”
