Her cheeks are a bright crimson, and she fights to keep her eyes from meeting mine. “I just want you to know that you don’t have anything to worry about. I won’t, you know, say anything to Iris.”
My eyes widen without volition, and I swallow. “What are you talking about?”
She gives a quick shake of her head, a finger placed on the end of her nose as she attempts to hide a sly smile. “You know…about you and Jo. I won’t say anything.”
I look at the computer, her words, the accusation in them, shocking me into a stunned silence. “Me and Jo?”
“I wondered Saturday when you invited her inside. She said she’d never really talked to you, which seemed weird, so I thought maybe she was overcompensating to keep me off the trail.” She shrugs one shoulder. “She’s gorgeous. I don’t blame you.”
I realize she is, in fact, accusing me of what I thought. “Olivia, Josephine and I are not having an affair, if that’s what you mean.”
It’s her turn to look shocked and, finally, she looks up at me. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, Mr. Locke. I didn’t…I just assumed—”
“Orrick, please.” I nod, reminding her. “Why would you think we were having an affair?”
“When I walked in, you were looking at her social media,” she says. “I wasn’t trying to spy, I just saw it, and I thought that’s why you were being awkward so I wanted to ease your mind. I know when to keep my mouth shut, was my point. I’m sorry if I misread the situation.”
I watch her skin fade to a lighter shade of pink. It’s enjoyable, seeing her nervous in front of me for the first time. “You did,” I assure her, keeping my tone light. “I was looking over Josephine’s social media because we’ve had a bit of trouble with her at work. I’m trying to decide whether or not I can trust her…”
“And what did you decide?” she asks, moving her arm to the back of the sofa and tossing her hair over her shoulder. When she does, I catch the scent of her perfume in the air—flowery and light. She smells divine.
“I’m still in the process,” I admit. “Though, you may be able to help me out. You talked to her Saturday by the gate, right? What did you think of her?”
She breaks eye contact with me, and I miss her jade eyes instantly as her gaze travels around my study. Iris is rarely up here, this is purely my space, but I feel privileged to share it with Olivia. This is where I feel my most powerful, behind my desk in the home I paid for, surrounded by books by the masters and photographs of myself with important clients. There’s a tray of alcohol on a shelf in the corner which Ruby keeps stocked with fresh ice and clean glasses. This place is my haven, the space I’ve created to enjoy the luxury of the life I’ve built. I wonder what Olivia thinks of it.
“She seemed sweet,” she says finally, taking so long to answer I almost forget we are talking. “And loyal. I tried to get her to come inside, and you did too, but she chose to do what Cathrine asked.”
I nod. “That surprised me, I’ll admit. She’s never been on my radar before, never caused trouble, but never done anything to excel either. It’s changed now, and I want to be sure she knows what can be possible with my company if she stays in my good graces.”
“I can’t imagine anyone would want to be outside of your good graces,” she says, her lips upturned into a small smile. God, she’s endearing. I can’t tell if she’s being sweet or making a joke.
“Trust me, they don't.” I wink, then instantly regret it. I hate myself around her.
She doesn’t call me out for my shameless flirting, but instead says, “Well, I apologize for misreading, and I’m glad you aren’t cheating on Iris.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” I wish she hadn’t thrown that last part in there. “Josephine is very beautiful, but…she’s not really my type.” I lean toward her, just a hair, and study her face.
She’s watching me, her lips parted slightly, eyes moving between mine. “Tall, blonde, and beautiful, you mean?”
I look away and let out a soft, breathy laugh. “Yeah. If I were going to have an affair, it wouldn’t be with someone who could be mistaken for my wife from a distance.”
“So it’d be all about looks, then?” she challenges. I’m not usually one to like being challenged, but, like so much else, it seems Olivia is the exception.
“Not at all,” I assure her. “I like my women with strong personalities. Backbones for days.” She presses her lips into a small smile at the joke, and I feel the endorphins firing in my brain. “Josephine makes a great assistant, but she’ll never be a leader.”
“You like women who lead.” She’s sizing me up, watching me as I take in her statement.
“Well,” I press my lips together, “in certain aspects of life, yes. In others, I like to be in total control.”
“Funny, I took you as the kind of person who’d always want to be in control.” She twists a piece of hair around her finger.
“Sometimes it’s exhausting,” I admit, and I’m being honest with her suddenly, like I’ve never been honest with anyone, even Iris.
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown, right?” she asks, her hand sliding from the back of the sofa and into her lap. For just a moment, I thought she was going to touch my knee, but it was her own that her palm rested on.
“Something like that,” I tell her. My skin is itching to touch hers; the electricity pulsing between us is so intense I feel like I might reach out without the ability—or desire—to stop myself. But I need to know the advance will be welcome, though I’ve never had this unique issue before. Women have always wanted my attention, the ultimate choice whether or not to pursue them left up to me.
“So what are you going to do?” she asks, and it takes me a minute to realize what she’s talking about.
“About Josephine?” She nods. “I have no idea,” I tell her. About either situation. “I just have to trust my instincts. They don’t usually let me down.”
“And…what are your instincts telling you now?” She blinks behind dark lashes, begging me to admit what I assume we both know.
“My instincts aren’t really focused on Josephine at the present moment,” I tell her, my jaw locked as I watch her take in what I’ve said. She isn’t shocked, from what I can tell, but her expression is unreadable. Does she understand what I’m saying?
She stands from the sofa, all too quickly, and clears her throat. “I should get going.”
I stand, too, cursing myself. “I apologize for my forwardness. That came out wrong.” But also so right, and she knows it.
“No,” she places a hand over her stomach, “no, it’s not that. I just…it’s getting late.”
The clock on the wall says it’s just after nine, so she isn’t lying.
“I have to be here bright and early in the morning, so I should…you know, head home.” She seems nervous as she takes a step away from me and around the sofa, her back still to the door.
“Right, of course.” I run a hand over my own stomach, where the buttons of my jacket would be if I were wearing my suit. It’s a habit no matter what I wear. “I’m sorry to have kept you so late.”
“That’s my job. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. L—Orrick.” She reaches the door and pulls it open, looking back over her shoulder to lock eyes with me once more before she disappears through it.
“Have a good night, Olivia,” I say, my voice faint. It doesn’t matter either way, the door is already closed and she is gone.
Chapter Eleven
Iris
“What are you doing?” AJ asks, walking past my bed on the way to his.
I barely look up from my phone as I type out the email. “Letting Orrick know we need to have the desks replaced here. Did you see what poor shape they were in? The one Maribelle works at had a drawer that doesn’t even lock. It’s unacceptable. They have to be replaced immediately.”
He doesn’t respond, and I don’t look up until the email is typed, polished, and sent. I stand from the edge of the bed, movi
ng toward him. He’s facing the window, seemingly lost in thought.
“You okay?” I ask.
He glances at me, as if he’d forgotten I am here, and nods. “I love this city.” He looks back out the window to the street down below.
“It’s a special place,” I tell him, and I know we’re both thinking of our first night together here. The night that started it all.
“I’m thinking about requesting a transfer.”
My heart plummets. I’m not one to be caught off guard, but he’s done it. “W-what?”
He looks down at me. “I just can’t do it anymore, Iris.”
“If this is about the room, we can get you another—”
“It’s not about the room.” He’s calm, talking slowly and steadily and not breaking eye contact with the city below. He refuses to look at me. “I can’t protect you on this trip if I’m not with you at all times. We both know that. This is how it’s always been.”
“Things’ve changed. I could make Orrick understand.” I touch his arm, and he doesn’t shy away. “I would understand if it’s too hard for you after everything.”
“Everything?” He scoffs. “Is that what we’re calling it? Jesus, Iris, you can’t even spell it out, can you?”
“AJ, I—”
He turns away from me, walking back to his bed. “You should’ve never brought it up in the car. I would’ve been fine pretending there was nothing different between us, that this was just business as usual, but you had to say something and bring me right back here. It wasn’t bad enough that this city reminds me of you…of us. It’s like you enjoy it.” He sits down, meeting my eyes with a conflicted expression. “Is this all just a game to you?”
“Of course not,” I say, my voice breathy. It could never be a game.
With a heavy sigh, he pulls out his laptop from the bag beside the bed. “Just forget it. I have work to do, anyway. Do you need me to order your dinner?”
“I was thinking of going to the restaurant downstairs.”
He nods, staring at his computer screen, and the conversation is over, just like that. That’s AJ, though, capable of turning his feelings on and off like a faucet.
I should know.
I taught him.
Chapter Twelve
Olivia
A pounding at the door wakes me from a deep sleep. I sit up in bed with a foggy mind, rubbing my eyes and trying to decipher where the noise is coming from. I tap the home button on my phone and it lights up, letting me know it’s just after one in the morning.
The knocking comes again, and I pull the covers back, hurrying across the room with still-blurry vision. I slept in my contacts, and they’re now dried to the insides of my eyes, making blinking a monumental task.
I pull the door open, staring out at a man I don’t recognize at first. His face is familiar, but I can’t place him.
“Olivia, we need you,” he says, jerking his head toward the hallway.
Suddenly realizing who he is, I’m filled with even more confusion. “Danny?” The Lockes’ driver. “What are you doing here?”
He’s soaking wet from the rain outside. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late. We need you at the Lockes’ house. John has woken up from a nightmare, and we can’t get him calmed down. Iris is still out of town and Orrick left, and we can’t get a hold of him on his cell phone. Lily has been trying to calm John down, but he has really bad nightmares some nights. Without his parents, we’re hoping you can get him settled enough to fall back to sleep.”
“Of course,” I say, stepping back and letting him in the apartment, though I desperately don’t want to. It’s my only safe space. “Let me just get dressed.” I hate leaving him there, knowing what he must think of my apartment, wondering what he might see.
“I tried to call you,” he tells me as I make my way to the bedroom as fast as I can and change clothes before brushing my teeth and hair. I throw my hair up into a bun and grab my phone from the nightstand on my way back to him.
Sure enough, there are three missed calls from a number I don’t have saved in my phone. “I’m sorry. I keep my phone on silent so it doesn’t wake me up.” He’s still standing where I left him, hands clasped at his waist, so I take a breath, praying he hasn’t moved or snooped too much. If I’d known he was coming, I would’ve cleaned up. I pull my tennis shoes from the pile of shoes near the door and slip them on.
“No worries. This isn’t something I plan to make a habit of. If I could contact Orrick, I wouldn’t be here. We just didn’t know what else to do. Luckily Lily had your address from the emergency contact paperwork you filled out, but I still hated to wake you up. The Lockes will pay you for the extra hours, of course.” Together, we walk from the apartment, and I shut and lock the door, using both the handle and deadbolt, and I breathe a sigh of relief and exhaustion as we make it down the flights of stairs, through the rain that’s turned to more of a drizzle, and to his car in the dimly lit parking lot.
“Does Orrick make a habit of disappearing in the middle of the night?” I ask, and when Danny eyes me strangely, I add, “I mean, could something be wrong?”
“Doubtful,” Danny says. “Greg is contacting AJ to see about turning on the tracker in Orrick’s car. It’s only supposed to be used in emergencies. Orrick likes his privacy. Without AJ here, Greg can’t make any decisions, barring an emergency.”
I nod.
“I used to live in this part of town,” Danny tells me, after he’s shut my door and taken his place in the driver’s seat. It’s strange talking to him from the back of the town car.
“You did?”
He nods. “It’s been a few years. I lived over on Willoughby.” His finger juts out in the direction of the street a block from me. I know it, but not well. “It’s…dangerous, at night. The Lockes should be letting you get home earlier than they do.”
“I can take care of myself,” I say, not bothering to elaborate on the fact that I’ve lived on this side of New Gilford my whole life.
“I’m sure, but the Lockes wouldn’t want to put you in a situation where you had to. They’ve got properties all over New Gilford, plus the extra staff rooms at their house. I can’t personally make the offer, but if you want to get out…I’m positive they can help.”
It’s the last thing I want. I won’t accept handouts, especially not from Orrick and Iris Locke. And I won’t leave the apartment, not when it was the last place I was happy. I hate the look of pity in Danny’s eyes, so I look down at my phone. Three missed calls, one new voicemail. I check it, deleting the voicemail Danny has left, but being sure to leave the one I need.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell him. “Honest. But thank you for worrying.”
He nods, his eyes meeting mine once more before locking steadily on the road ahead. I rest my face against the cool glass of the window, dozing off as we go around curve after curve.
The overhead lights come on, waking me from sleep. When I open my eyes, it takes me a minute to realize I’m in the back of the town car and not in my bed. It feels like I’ve been sleeping for hours, when in reality, it’s only been thirty minutes.
“We’re here,” Danny says, stepping out of the car. A few minutes later, my door opens with me still half asleep. We climb the steps outside of the house together, walking to the front door. I start to knock but Danny stops me. “No need.” He turns the gold knob and we step inside.
John lunges into my arms before I see him, catching me by surprise. When I pull him away from me and bend down to look at him, there are tears in his eyes.
I’ve known him for such a short time, but I already know I’d move heaven and earth for this child. “It’s okay,” I tell him, patting his back as fresh sobs come. Lily is just behind him, a sympathetic expression on her face.
“He has these nightmares sometimes, but it’s rare. When they happen, no one except his parents or AJ can calm him down,” she explains. “We tried everything.”
I sink to the floor of the entranceway, holdi
ng the boy whose body is nearly the length of my own. “It’s okay, John. It’s all okay. It was just a bad dream.” I whisper calming sentiments in his ear, letting him cry it out for as long as he needs. I know what it feels like, I want to tell him. Worse, I know what it’s like to have a reality so bad you prefer the nightmares.
When his crying has quieted and I hear his slow, steady breaths in my ear, I start to stand up. Danny jumps into action, carefully lifting my arms to assist me with John’s weight.
“Can you carry him? We should get him to bed, and I’m not sure I can make it up the stairs,” I whisper. He stirs, but doesn’t lift his head from my shoulder until I pass him off to Danny. Together, we climb the stairs. I watch from close behind as John’s heavy eyes blink, opening occasionally to make sure I’m still here.
Once in his room, I pull his comforter and sheet back, allowing Danny to lay him down. He steps away while I tuck him in, but when we start to leave, John sits up.
“Don’t go,” he whispers, outstretching a hand to me.
“Okay.” I walk back to his bedside, holding his hand in mine and using the other to brush the dark hair from his eyes. “It’s okay. I won’t go anywhere.”
That seems to relax him, and he lays his head back on the pillow, though his eyes don’t close right away. Danny is still staring at me from the doorway, and I give him a nod. He looks as exhausted as I feel. He should get some sleep.
As soon as John’s asleep, I will find a bedroom and sleep for a few hours, too…if I don’t pass out on his floor first.
The door shuts, and I continue running my fingers through John’s hair as he drifts off to sleep, his body losing its tension.
I hadn’t realized I was falling asleep until a noise outside jolts me awake. Footsteps. Voices. No, just one voice.
“Because it is, and because I say so. That’s the only reason you need.” Orrick. He’s finally made it home.
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