Chapter 19

Seattle is miserable.

It’s rainy and cold and the meetings drag endlessly, another boring board of directors, and another
boring meaningless round of chatter. Something I learned working in my new role is how much
businessmen like to set up meetings to discuss nothing much at all and will take several sessions to
conclude on something minor.

The hotel is like every other we have stayed in and as usual we have a penthouse suite. Grand,
opulent, and modern. Jake insists that when we travel, we have rooms in the same suite, so I can be at
his beck and call as we usually work late from them. I spent the best part of last night having him
dictate memos and running through his schedules and itinerary before he made me get up at the crack
of dawn to jog with him in the rain.

Jake likes conversation when he runs, so whenever we leave home and his trainer behind, he
harasses me into it. I have never jogged so much in my life until I started living with this man.

I’m tired by the time we get back to the hotel, it’s been a long day and I’m none too pleased, when upon
arrival, we’re met in the foyer by a familiar looking red head. I inwardly groan.

Felicity Crane!

This is the one with a voice like razor blades and I have a headache coming on. She’s also a screamer
and the reason I carry headphones and an iPod when I have to live in the same suite as Casanova
Carrero. I am instantly deflated.

I give him a withering look and catch his smirk; he knows how much I love Felicity. She’s been on his
date list for a few weeks with sporadic hook ups, because she understands the meaning of casual sex!
Seattle is her home base, although she travels a lot and meets us in random cities.



“Miss Crane.” I smile tightly and try to look elsewhere as she embraces Jake eagerly, with loud wet
kisses on his cheek.

Gross. Have some class for god’s sake.

“Oh, Jake, you look so hot in this suit, so very businessman of the year.” She whines in that painful
voice. I try to numb out the clingy baby tones as we hit the elevator. Like nails down a chalkboard.

“You look nice, Felicity … New hair?” Jake, as observant as ever, although he only noticed because I
pointed at her hair with scissor motions as soon as her back was turned.

“Oh, Jake, you noticed.” I can hear her beam and I shake my head at him and turn away. Even though
I’m standing with my back to them I know she’s probably curled around him possessively, like an
octopus and eyeroll.

I don’t get what he sees in half the bimbos he dates. He’s not a stupid guy so he can’t get any
enjoyment out of conversation with the brain dead. I guess it’s not the conversation he’s interested in,
as I turn slightly and eye up the endless legs and tight ass of Miss. Crane. His woman all fit the same
standard: gorgeous, tight bodied, and dumb.

My cell vibrates in my pocket and I look down to retrieve it absentmindedly.

“Emma Anderson,” I answer, not recognizing the number and glad for the distraction from the smoochy
woman molesting my boss behind me.

“Emma?” It’s a male voice, one I vaguely recognize, something gnawing at me in the back of my mind
as I screw my eyes up and try to place him.

“Yes, this is Emma.” My curiosity evident, I sense Jakes eyes honing in on me with interest, his probing
gaze, because normally all calls relate to him in some way, and the fact that he is also a nosy git.



Being a nosy shit, he probably thinks I have finally found a date.

Felicity is babbling on incoherently right behind me and it’s distracting as I’m trying to listen to the
hoarse voice on the other end, who is mumbling annoyingly. I have to plug my other ear to hear what
he is saying.

“Emma, I wasn’t sure if you would talk to me … It’s been a long time … Emma it’s your father, Frank
Roberts.” The faceless voice slurs and my blood freezes in my veins, the warmth drains from my face,
inhaling fast and I’m at a loss for words as I zone out whatever else he is saying. The suffocating
sensation in my lungs momentarily knocks me for six but I push it down harshly and find some resolve
to answer.

“What do you want?” my voice sounds alien to me as I regain my composure, cutting off his babble. I
sound as shocked as I feel and know that Jake will notice it too. A tremor of teen Emma slipping out.

“Emma, I just want to talk … I want to meet up and maybe if you give me a chance …” His voice is
weak and gnarly, it causes a creeping bile in my stomach to rise and an anger to swirl viciously from
the depths.

“We have nothing to talk about … Leave me alone.” I snap aggressively and disconnect the call, my
hand trembling as I fumble with it, trying to switch it off. Jake’s hand is on my arm in a heartbeat, trying
to turn me, but I stiffen to stop him. Not able to look at him while feeling this prickly.

“Emma are you okay?” he sounds concerned as my cell vibrates again before I manage to turn it off;
it’s the same number. I blanch at the screen then reject it, this time managing to switch the cell to mute
and shove it deep into my bag. I am overcome with emotion, and I don’t want to be closed in this
elevator with Jake and Felicity the “Crone” anymore. I can hear Jake asking me what’s wrong again but
I’m fighting to get my head calm and straight before I can answer. I’m shaken.



“Emma?” his voice is intent. He pulls me back against him, his hard chest against my back, his face
coming around the side of mine to see me. I block him out, trying to get a hold on self-composed
Emma before I can say a word.

Deep breath. Steady, calm, composed.

The closing walls begin to move back out and I calm myself, pushing out of his embrace and against
the elevator door with a palm to steady myself.

“I’m okay … Really!” I give him a quick glance back and a tight smile, but his expression stays the
same. He looks worried and only frowns at my reply. Felicity watching us silently. Suspiciously.

Yes, Felicity. My boss often manhandles me, it doesn’t scream affair!

He knows nothing of my father, he’s never broached the subject. Not that I would ever volunteer the
information if he did.

“You want me to send Felicity home?” he says it right in front of her and I catch her small intake of
breath, followed by the indignation in her voice.

“No!” we retort in unison. I don’t want this kind of awkwardness. I feign a smile and give him a
reassuring look as we stop at our floor.

“It’s fine … it’s nothing.” I warn, impressed with how quickly I’ve managed to sound bright and normal.
All those years of hiding finally paying off. I head to the door of our suite and let us in with my swipe
card knowing his eyes are on me; I can feel it. Felicity is for once, silent, and I think she senses the
oddness of the atmosphere.

“I’m going to bed. I’m tired, I’ll grab a shower and a light snack and hit the sheets.” I need to get away
from his probing eyes because I know he will start to question me, and we’ll only end up quarreling



about this.

“You don’t want to come for dinner?” he sounds odd, tense; watching me intensely.

“No, I want to just stay here.” I sound normal despite the hammering inside my chest and the tremble in
my fingers. Ever grateful for years of perfecting this. My whole body just feels weak and surreal and I’m
lightheaded.

“You want me to order you some dinner to the room?” The look of concern is still crossing his face and
it endears me to him for a moment. Guilty that I’m clamming up, but I can’t help it, it’s who I am.

“Why, Mr. Carrero!” I smile at him, hoping to look amused. “I didn’t know you knew how to do such
things.” I purr demurely, and he smiles back, relaxing a little. Finally, that look in his eye dissipating,
mission accomplished. I’ve always been good at quick recoveries, no matter how bad the shock; the
mask is back on and he’s none the wiser.

“You would be surprised at my capabilities, Emma. Maybe some time you’ll let me show you the extent
of them.” He’s still eyeing me, only this time with that cheeky glint and I try a more genuine smile and
shake my head. It’s always sex with him.

“Do you want me to order food?” he asks again insistently. Serious tone back on.

“No, Jake. I can order food, go have fun.” I head towards my room in the suite now and throw my coat
and bag over the nearest chair. I just want him to leave so I can sit down and process what just
happened, alone. I need to think about what I’m going to do if Frank Roberts continues to pursue me.
He can go crawl back to his hole and die for all I care.


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