by Nia Arthurs
“Stop.” I grab her shoulders. Lift her up. Tilt her chin to get her to look at me.
She does.
“Breathe.” I demonstrate.
In.
Out.
We breathe slowly. Until she’s simmered down.
I breathe too.
I need the exercise almost as much as she does.
This sucks.
I get it.
I didn’t sign up for this either, but it’s not the end of the world.
I’ve been through much worse.
“All we have to do is focus on the present.”
“Right.” She keeps breathing.
Her lips pucker.
Relax.
Pucker.
Relax.
I force my gaze back to her eyes. “First, you need to put your ring back on.”
“What about you?” She rummages through her purse. “Now that everyone knows we’re married, you need a ring too.”
“We’ll work on that,” I promise.
Elizabeth wiggles the ring on her finger.
“Now,” I gesture to the door, “we’re going to walk out there and we’re going to be normal.”
“Normal?”
“Yes. We’re going to explain that just because we’re married doesn’t mean that we’ll indulge in office PDA. This is a work environment. Here, we are not husband and wife. We are boss and employee.”
She winces. “That’s so… cold.”
“Should I go out there and pin you against a wall then?”
Her eyelashes flutter.
My lips tilt up. Now that the image is in my head, I realize I’m not totally against it.
“I’m just saying,” Elizabeth insists. “There needs to be a balance. We can’t be robots or there’s no way we’ll convince my family that we’re really together. Novah’s always calling this office and there’s bound to be gossip…”
I sigh and silently curse Levy for making things way more complicated than they need to be.
“Fine.”
“Fine?” She leans back, her eyes searching mine.
“I’ll follow your lead.” I start to walk way when Elizabeth touches my hand.
“Wait, what about the story?”
“You mean of how we got together?”
She nods.
“I’ll follow your lead on that too.”
“You sure?”
“Positive,” I growl, tired of the conversation. I need to visit Steph’s hospital and make arrangements with her doctors as soon as possible. “Are we good?”
“Fantastic.”
I sigh again. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just… I sure hope you’re a good actor.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I smile grimly. “I know how to play the part.”
She gives me a funny look.
With a shake of my head, I wrench the door open and storm out.
A soft hand latches onto mine.
I feel a tug.
My forward momentum does a one-eighty as I stumble toward Elizabeth.
I slap my hand against the wall to keep from crushing her.
Her eyes meet mine. She catches my jaw in her hand. Her fingers grip my beard tightly. Wrenching my chin to the side, she plants a kiss on my cheek.
It’s soft.
Sweet.
The complete opposite of all the stink faces and glares she’d given me inside the office.
Batting her eyelashes, she pretends to fix her shirt. “Baby, we’re in public.”
I glance over my shoulder.
The office has gone completely still.
Levy’s eyes are about to pop out of his wrinkly face.
The secretary’s jaw hits the floor.
I blink rapidly.
This woman…
“We’ll continue this at home.” She winks.
I redden.
Damn.
She should have given me a little warning first.
I straighten. Fix my jacket. Try to regain my bearings. “Levy.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are we settled for today?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then I’ll be working outside the office.” And as far away from my temptress of a wife as possible.
Buttoning my jacket, I stride out of the room without looking back.
Ten
Elizabeth
Riley keeps staring at me like she expects me to sprout wings or something. Geez. I’m married now. That’s it. I’m not a half-bird, half-human hybrid.
Thankfully, the head secretary gives zero damns about me or my marital status. She calls me into her office and demands I work with her all through lunch.
Which is weird.
We normally break for lunch.
It’s as if she’s intentionally pulling me aside to spare me from the millions of questions my coworkers probably have. Or maybe she’s just a workaholic with no concept of time and I’m being naïve.
I’ve been known to see the best in people even to my own detriment.
Either way, I really appreciate the excuse to stay away from my peers. I can think fast on my feet, but I doubt I’ll be able to field so many eyes on me without some of the truth slipping out.
Fifteen minutes to one, I skirt past Riley’s desk, tiptoeing so my steps don’t make a sound while she’s on her call, and dip out to the elevator.
Thankfully, I board alone.
As I wilt against the wall, I think about Brogan’s reaction when I kissed his cheek earlier.
The flashing eyes.
The annoyed huff.
The angry growl at Levy.
We definitely need to work on being more believable as a couple. There’s no way we can fool Novah if he acts like he’s barely tolerating my touch half the time.
We need a breakthrough. And fast.
But that can’t happen if we don’t talk.
Don’t connect.
I know nothing about him. Well, apart from the fact that he’s a lawyer. And he’s prone to moodiness. A little rough around the edges. But good in the center.
I hope.
Damn.
What if I’m wrong?
What if my bad habit of seeing the best in people comes back to bite me?
I know who I am. I know my weaknesses and also my strengths. I know the best way to protect myself is to keep toxic people at arms’ length.
Do I think my new husband is toxic?
I pull out my cell phone and stare at the glass protector again.
No.
But I do know that Brogan has secrets. Lots of them. Starting with the mysterious person he’s trying to save and ending with those burn scars on his hands.
The elevator doors open, jerking me out of my thoughts. It feels like a million eyes are on me when I walk through the lobby.
Whispers follow in my wake.
People literally step aside to make way.
My fingers dig into my purse, rubbing against the soft leather.
This is weird.
This is…
I don’t like it.
I can hear every clip of my heels against the tiles.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Everyone holds their breath.
Stares.
Gawks.
I try to ignore them, but it feels like I’m walking through water.
Like I’m some animal on display.
The exits loom before me. Two giant double doors that let in the sunlight and point to freedom.
Almost there.
I smile at Hal, the security guard.
He doesn’t smile back. Or maybe he’s trying to, but his lips are trembling too much and he’s too busy trying not to make direct eye contact to be his usual, warm self.
I reach for the door.
Hal huffs around the desk, grabs the door and wrenches it open for me, his white-knuckled grip gleaming against silver chrome. Sweat glistens on his broad forehead and above his thick upper lip.
&
nbsp; Shocked, I stutter out, “Hal, I-I’ve got it.”
“No, ma’am. Elizabeth, ma’am.” He swallows like I’m the Queen of Hearts about to yell ‘off with his head!’ “Mrs. Harrington.”
The entire room goes still.
No activity.
No whispers.
No footsteps.
Just eternal silence.
Like I’ve cast a magical spell and turned everyone into very realistic-looking stone.
Mrs. Harrington?
I resist the urge to point at myself, yell who me and laugh uncontrollably.
Me.
Mrs. Harrington?
No.
I’m just Elizabeth. I’m just the quiet accountant who works on the top floor. The girl who blends into a crowd. Who opens her own doors. Who goes by her first name and not her last.
Mrs. Harrington?
Who the hell is she?
I should wring Riley’s neck for this.
Her gossip has already spread like a wild, un-tamable fire.
And now I’m someone else.
Wife of the boss.
Madam of a major conglomerate.
If only they knew.
I’m the wife of a husband who wants nothing to do with me so…
Grass really isn’t that greener.
“Thanks, Hal,” I say quietly and scamper outside.
It’s only when I’m a few feet from the doors do I feel like I can breathe again. The sun is warm on my face. I tilt my chin up to capture its heat. Put some life back into my bones after that Twilight Zone experience of being the center of attention.
“Ehem.”
My eyes burst open.
There’s a man standing in front of me. Pale skin. Head of thick, silver hair. Blue eyes that are staring right at me.
Thinking he’s lost, I step forward. “Can I help you?”
“Ma’am.” He gestures to a big black SUV waiting on the curb. It’s the latest model. There’s no way I’d take anything that looked like that into my Aunt Becca’s neighborhood.
I give the man a once-over. He’s wearing a black jacket over a crisp white shirt and black trousers. With fluid, elegant movements, he opens the back door and stands regally next to it.
My jaw drops.
Wow.
Are kidnappers getting that brazen now? Does he think I’ll just jump into his car if he just opens the door? What is he going to do next? Wave candy around?
I seize up, my eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Who are you?”
“Gerard Mane, ma’am.” He puts on a hat I didn’t notice he’d been holding. “Your driver.”
Driver? “Sorry. You must have me mixed up with someone else.”
“Mrs. Harrington?”
I pull my hand into a fist. “No. My name is Elizabeth. E-liz-a-beth.” I know I’m being unnecessarily heated. This guy is just trying to do his job, not get a lesson on basic name pronunciation.
His face remains impartial. “Mr. Levy informed me that I’m to report to work again.” He bows his head. “It would be an honor to serve you.”
I stare at him.
Hear the plea beneath the words.
He got his job back because of me.
He needs me to get in the car so he can keep it.
Damn.
My compassion stirs.
Even though the cake place is only three blocks away, I get into the car.
Gerard closes the door behind me. Jogs around. Gets into the other side.
As he pulls off into traffic, I ask, “Are we picking up Brogan too?”
“Mr. Harrington will meet us there separately.”
“I see.” So Brogan somehow wiggled out of the chauffeured ride.
Lucky man.
I study Gerard’s profile. “How long were you Ms. Eldrina’s driver?”
“Since the company went public, ma’am.”
“Please. It’s just Elizabeth.”
He doesn’t respond.
I guess that’s a lost cause.
“What about Brogan?”
“Mr. Harrington?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know much about him?” Maybe some of my questions can be answered here. It’s better than turning the mystery over and over in my head and driving myself crazy.
Gerard hesitates.
“What? Wasn’t he close to Ms. Eldrina?”
“They had a… strenuous relationship, ma’am.”
“Strenuous? How so?”
Gerard falls silent again.
I hate that he’s wearing those dark shades because I can’t see his eyes to gauge whether he’s the type to break under pressure. Somehow, I doubt it though.
Frustrated, I lean back in my seat. This curiosity about Brogan is coming out of nowhere but I, suddenly, want to know everything.
Like why is he so hot and cold to me?
And who is he trying to save?
“It’s fine.” I sigh. “I shouldn’t have asked.
Gerard clears his throat. “You’re probably aware that he was married before.”
I resist my shock. Settle my expression into a plain ‘could care less’ face, complete with dull-eyes and a one-shouldered shrug.
Gerard stops at a red light and glances at me in the rearview mirror. “It was set up by Ms. Eldrina.”
“Hm…”
Inside, my heart is pounding wildly and my mind is sorting through Gerard’s information like a super computer.
There’s no way our marriage would have gone through if Brogan were still legally bound to that other woman. Either she died or…
“The divorce was not amicable,” Gerard says haltingly, as if he’s choosing his words with precious care. “And there was the matter of the child—”
I jerk up. “Brogan has a kid?”
“No. Not—” Gerard sighs. “Ma’am, shouldn’t you be hearing this from him?”
If Gerard knew how little Brogan spoke to me in general, he’d know that’s impossible.
I fold my arms over my chest. “What’s up with the kid?”
“She was sickly from birth. But… after that event, it got worse.”
“Worse?”
“She’s dying.”
“She’s…” I gasp loudly.
Big puzzle pieces fall into place.
I get it.
I understand now.
The person Brogan is trying so hard to save.
The one he married me for.
It’s her.
It’s that little girl.
Eleven
Brogan
“Uncle Brogie!”
I dip to my knee. Feel the cold seep into my pants. Throw my arms wide.
A white blur zooms into my chest.
I wrap my arms around her scrawny body, making sure not to press too hard and jostle any of the tubes and wires taped to her skin.
Steph pulls back, her brown eyes lit up with excitement. Her long black hair bounces against her shoulder as she giggles. “It’s been so long since you’ve come to see me.”
“I know, sweetie.” I pinch her cheek. “Is it just me or did you get taller?”
“I grew a whole lot.”
“Soon you’ll be taller than me.”
“No one’s taller than you, Uncle Brogan.” She laughs.
My heart warms and hardens at the same time.
It’s always two conflicting feelings when I see Steph.
It’s something bitter-sweet.
Something that makes me want to cradle her as close as possible.
Then set her down so I can punch a hole in the wall.
Because I can’t stand seeing her like this.
It’s incredibly unfair. How can someone so precious be saddled with so much pain? She’s only ten years old and yet, her life has shrunk to the size of this hospital. She’s on tons of medication. Always on edge. Always waiting for her heart to give out.
Damn.
It kills me.
I’d do anything to save her.
<
br /> To whisk her away from this place.
Steph grabs my hand. Her tiny fingers wrap around three of my giant ones and can barely hold on. “Aunt Lana says that we’re throwing a huge birthday party for me next month. She said I could eat anything I want!”
“Anything?” I heft her up into my arms with a groan. “We have to talk to your doctor about that first.”
“Aw, come on, Uncle Brogan. It’s my birthday. My eleventh birthday. I wasn’t even supposed to be living this long, you know. They said I was supposed to die when I was four.” She holds up the correct amount of fingers.
A lump forms in my throat.
My chatty girl doesn’t notice. “I already talked to Nurse Ina. She has a friend who owns a bakery. It’s called Brew Drop Coffee Shop. Isn’t that a great name?”
“It sure is.”
“Her friend, Zania—isn’t Zania a beautiful name?”
I walk with her into another hallway. “It is, Pumpkin.”
“Well, Zania is a pastry chef. Nurse Ina says that Zania makes all these amazing cakes. She even did one that’s shaped like a mermaid. And Nurse Ina said Zania’s brownies are amazing. And so are Zania’s velvet cupcakes.”
“Nurse Ina sure talks about a lot of food that you can’t eat,” I say, tickling her side.
Steph shrieks with laughter.
The nurses that pass by slant her affectionate smiles. She’s only been in this hospital for a few months, but she’s already got the staff wrapped around her little finger.
Steph is like that. She’s bright, smart, funny and kind. Not even her heart can slow her down.
“Uncle Brogan, you can’t be mad at Nurse Ina.”
“Who says I’m mad?”
She touches my cheek. “You’re frowning.”
I relax my face. “No I’m not. I just don’t know if hearing about something you can’t have is helpful.”
Steph stares seriously at me. “It’s not her fault. I asked her to tell me about the bakery.”
“Why?”
“If I can’t eat what I want, I might as well imagine it. If I can’t go into the world, I might as well hear about it. I have a great imagination. And sometimes, it’s better to have a glimpse of something sweet than to not know about it at all. Right?”
My eyelashes flutter.
Emotions clog my throat.
