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He held the glass in front of my face. “Drink.”
I shook my head.
“Drink the fucking wine or I will kill him!”
“Shelby, honey, tell me what happened?” Martina’s worried voice reeled me back to the present. Unfortunately, nothing she said could save me from Jake.
“I don’t want to do this with you,” I snapped at her. “Now stop asking me.” I tidied up my desk and collected my purse and tablet.
“Let’s grab dinner. We can go for a walk on the pier.”
I shook my head as I left my office. Jake might have bugged my office and cell phone, but he couldn’t have put cameras inside the public areas of the museum, could he?
“I know you don’t want to marry him,” she whispered and lightly touched my back.
“Please drop it.”
“I won’t drop it. Are you afraid of him?”
Yes. “No. I’ll see you Monday.” I hustled toward the exit when I saw Jake waiting for me.
“Shelby.”
I whirled on her and got in her face. “Stop,” I told her through clenched teeth. “If you care an ounce for me, you will not say another word. I’m fine.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“See you, Monday.” I exhaled a shaky breath, then plastered a fake smile on my face as I met up with Jake.
He watched me like a hawk, then reached for my left hand. I let him take it, noting his guards were waiting outside the building like he said they would be.
“Hey, babe. I made reservations at your favorite Italian restaurant. I hope you’re hungry.” He kissed the engagement ring.
“Mhm.”
“Did you have a good day?”
“Mhm.”
“Good.” He led me to his Land Rover and helped me get in the back. His guards went in the front seats. “Have you been crying?”
“Yes, they’re happy tears. I showed Martina the ring.” No sense in lying to him if he was watching my every move. “But I think I’m coming down with a cold. I’ve been phlegmy and a little feverish.”
He made a grossed-out face. “Damn, maybe we should go home.”
“Maybe.” I fake coughed into the hand he’d held. I was betting on his germaphobia to kick in. If he believed I was sick, he’d want nothing to do with me. My only line of defense was germs to protect me from him.
“Tonight, you’ll sleep in the guest bedroom.” He retrieved a mask from the center console, put it on, then took out hand sanitizer and squirted a large amount in his palm.
Thank you, Jesus!“Okay. I wouldn’t want you to get sick.” I cleared my throat, then took a tissue out of my purse and blew my nose. “Could be the flu. I had toilet issues earlier.”
“Take us home,” he told the driver and shuddered beside me.
Jake’s obsession with cleanliness and OCD tendencies used to be endearing “quirks” to me. Nobody was perfect after all, and I’d been raised to be accepting and not to judge.
But now, I’d use his paranoia and phobias to my advantage. For as long as I could, anyway. I’d keep faking being sick, relishing every minute of peace and distance away from him.
The driver kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror. He weirded me out about as much as Jake did.Fantastic. I was at the mercy of a bunch of psychos. If Jake noticed his driver ogling me, he’d flip out, and I’d probably be collateral damage.Double fantastic.
