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Uncle Bill purses his lips and watches me silently until I shift slightly in my seat. Hell, was this what Anica felt like last night when everyone was watching us? No wonder she seemed uncomfortable, I sure as shit am right now under his scrutiny.
“While you have my guest in your home, you won’t be bringing women there in that capacity,” he says in a low voice. His tone brooks no argument, and I grit my teeth and nod sullenly.
This agreement is fucking bullshit. First, I have to share my space. Now I’m not even allowed to behave how I want in my home. I swear this fucking woman is going to be the death of me before it’s time for her to return to Chicago.
There have been many times in my life that I have chafed at the bonds placed around me, specifically by Uncle Bill. I might have been born into a world of immense wealth and privilege, but it can be a fucking gilded cage, and right now, those gold bars are feeling mighty tight.
Uncle Bill fucks off to annoy Max for a while over on Wall Street at the offices of Haven Property, and I finally manage to get a decent amount of work done. I don’t hear from Anica again, and time gets away from me. I’ve had a week off for Timmy’s wedding back in Chicago and have a massive backlog of work to catch up on. There’s no time like the present, so I get stuck in, challenging myself to clear my accumulation of emails before I leave for the day.
I’m not bothered until Christine taps on my door and sticks her head in. “I’m about to head off, Mr. Brooks Westerhaven. Is there anything else I can get for you before I leave?”
My eyes dart to my computer clock. Shit. 610 PM. Where the hell did the rest of the day go?
“Uh, no Christine. You have a nice night.”
“Thank you, Mr. Brooks Westerhaven.”
The door closes silently behind her, and I pick my phone up off the shiny mahogany desk and rub my eyes. After staring at a computer screen so intensely all day, they’re dry. I need to remember to get Christine to stock up on some eye drops. I send her an email about it, and pull up Anica’s email address, which Cathy forwarded to me.
FROM: [email protected]
Subject: Town car
Ms. Kasan,
I am calling my town car. If you wish to travel with me, be in the lobby within ten minutes.
David Brooks Westerhaven
I call through to the town car company and tuck my phone into my pocket, not bothering to see if she replies as I shrug into my suit jacket, grabbing my wallet and keys. Christine’s desk is silent and empty when I step out of my office, and I walk past it on my way to the elevator bank. She’ll be kicking herself about that fucking Styrofoam cup. I have no idea why the hell she did that. She should have gotten Anica the same coffee, using the same mugs that she gets mine in.
Normally, I don’t give a shit about what coffee Christine gets people, but when the person in question is in my office, it should be obvious. I know Christine has been going through a hard time these last few years, but that was just a petty fuck up, and I don’t know where it came from.
The elevator dings, and I step in, turning my eyes on Christine’s desk as the doors close. I sigh when the desk disappears from view. I won’t fire Christine. She’s been a good employee, and when I first started here, she fussed over me like my mother, making sure I had all the inside gossip. She’s been loyal, and I feel I owe her, but I need to have a conversation with her, that she needs to rein it in, and that my patience only goes so far.
The doors slide open, and I step out into the lobby, my eyes landing on Anica, who is waiting by the large glass doors, hugging her purse to her side, and watching the people and traffic stream past outside.
“Ms. Kasan.” I nod curtly to her when I come to a halt at her side.
“Mr. Brooks Westerhaven.”
Ah. That’s right. We agreed to Anica and David. I raise my eyebrows, gesturing for her to walk through the doors first as Antonio pulls up out the front in the town car.
As we walk down the stone steps, Antonio exits the car, moving around to hold the door open. Anica shoots me a quick glance over her shoulder, but I gesture for her to get in first. She slides into the car and is silent, looking at something on her iPad on the way back to my building, which suits me fine. After a long day at work, the last thing I normally want to do ischat.
Once we’re upstairs, I snatch up the spare keys to the place and hand them to Anica. She offers me a tentative smile as she accepts them. I guess it gives her more freedom as well. I should have given them to her yesterday. No wonder she made sure she was waiting in the lobby for me tonight.
“I’ll email you the number for my town car company,” I tell her as I start through the penthouse towards my bedroom. Anica trails after me, clutching her iPad and purse.
“While you’re here in New York, make sure you use it. Cabs can be a nightmare, so stick with the town cars. All bills will come to Haven Property.”
“Thank you, David.” Anica moves toward the hallway through to the rest of the penthouse, stopping when I call out after her.
“I have a date tonight. You’ll have to manage your own dinner.”
Anica’s big blue eyes survey me as she smiles and nods. Shit. That’s not very… host-like.
