5. Amelia
Chapter 5
Amelia
M r. Davenport storms back into the office. His pointer finger curls as he beckons me to follow. I slip my phone into my pocket, then grab my notepad and a pen and follow him.
I don’t know what’s going on, but since his father was here this morning, he has been quieter than normal.
I follow my boss into his office, my gaze tracing the lines of his tailored charcoal suit. It hugs his broad shoulders, the fabric smooth—and expensive, no doubt.
Today, he’s paired it with a deep blue tie that brings out the intensity in his beautiful pale blue eyes.
As I settle into the chair across from his desk, a whiff of his cologne hits me. It’s woodsy and masculine, with hints of citrus.
I’ve never noticed it so vividly before. Maybe it’s because of where I saw him on Friday night, and the secret we now share.
But then again. My awareness of him has always been there.
Now, I see more.
It's not just his dark hair or his pale blue eyes that look into mine like he knows me.
It's not the clench he makes in his square jaw when we look at each other in silence.
There is something more lingering beneath his surface.
I try not to think about it.
“Amelia, look at this.” His voice is tight as he slides a newspaper across the desk.
I lean forward, my eyes widening in shock as I scan the headline. It’s about Club Elysium, the sex club I saw him leaving on Friday night. The night he asked me to keep to myself.
My heart races.
How did this get out?
“Did you know about this?” His eyes bore into mine, searching for something.
I shake my head, confused. “No, I...I didn’t.”
“Really?” His tone is accusatory, and it hits me like a slap to my face. “Because you were there too.”
My confusion turns to anger. “Wait, you think I sold this story?” My voice is raised.
“What am I supposed to think?” He stands up, pacing behind his desk. “You see me there, and two days later this appears in the papers?”
I jump to my feet, my voice rising a couple of octaves. “I can’t believe you’d think that of me! I would never betray your trust like that. You gave me a job I love. Why the hell would I jeopardize that?”
“Then explain how this happened,” he demands, gesturing at the paper with his pointer finger. “I’ve been going there for years and not once has a story been published about me.”
“I don’t know!” I’m almost shouting now, hurt by his lack of faith in me. “But it wasn’t me. I thought we had a better working relationship than this, Mr. Davenport. I thought you trusted me.”
I watch as the anger drains from his face, replaced by a weariness that makes him look older than his years.
He sinks back into his chair, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up.
“I do trust you.” He lets out a long breath. “I’m sorry. This whole situation has put me on edge.”
My heart stops racing as my anger dissipates, replaced by a mix of relief and curiosity. “It’s okay. I understand.” I sit back down, smoothing my skirt. “I promise you it wasn’t me, Mr. Davenport?”
West leans forward, elbows on his desk and smiles. “I believe you. But my father. He’s...well, he’s not happy with how things are going in my life. He thinks I need to settle down and present a more stable image for the company.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And by ‘settle down,’ you mean...”
“He wants me to get married.” West’s voice is flat, devoid of emotion. “To Elizabeth Jameson.”
My heart does this strange little flutter. So does my stomach when he looks at me.
Stop it!
He can never be yours.
“Elizabeth Jameson.” I try to put a face to a name, but she doesn’t ring any bells. “Who is Elizabeth Jameson?”
“That’s what I need you to find out.” West’s eyes meet mine, and there’s a glimmer of the determination that usually defines him in them. “I need you to dig up everything you can on her. Who she is, what she does, and why my father thinks she’d be a suitable wife for the COO of NeuroPort Dynamics.”
I open my cell and type in her name, narrowing the location to the City of New York.
A beautiful blonde girl appears. The bio says she lives in the Hamptons but works in an art studio in the city. And I’m guessing that with her proximity to Manhattan I’ve found the right girl.
I turn my phone to Mr. Davenport. “She’s very pretty.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “I never asked what she looked like. I want as much dirt on her as possible.”
Dirt? The word is surprisingly satisfying, but... “I’m not a private investigator.” I raise an eyebrow, feeling a lot out of my depth.
West chuckles, the sound low and smooth. “I know, Amelia. But you’re the only one I trust with this.”
I frown, unsure what to make of that comment, considering he accused me of being the leak only moments before now. “Okay, fine. But if I get caught snooping around, I’m blaming you.”
He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And I will take full responsibility.”
I sigh, feeling a bit more at ease. “So, what is really going on here? Why does your father want you to marry this Elizabeth person?”
West leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers together behind his head. My eyes roam over his wide chest and where his shirt parts at the buttons. “He’s planning my funeral...I mean, marriage.”
I laugh. “That’s a unique way of putting it.”
West shrugs. “Might as well be the same thing. He’s trying to control my life, as usual.”
I give him a sympathetic nod. “Can’t you tell him you’re dating someone?”
West turns the newspaper to me, a wry smile spreading across his face. “Do I look like I’m dating someone?”
I feel a flush rise to my cheeks as I take in the headline about the sex club. “Eek!”
West laughs, the sound husky. “Exactly. My social life isn’t exactly...respectable.”
I try to think of a way to deflect the conversation. “Well, you could always say pole dancers are your weakness and that you need therapy.”
West raises an eyebrow, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “You think that would go well with my father?”
I shrug. “Hey, it’s worth a shot, right?”
I try to think of a way to deflect the conversation, but West’s eyes on mine are making me feel like I’m under a microscope.
“So, Amelia,” he says, his voice low and smooth, “what were you doing at Club Elysium that night?”
I shrug, trying to play it cool. “Letting off steam, I suppose.”
West smirks, his expression skeptical. “Letting off steam? At a sex club? You don’t strike me as the type.”
Heat rises to my cheeks, and I look away, trying to compose myself. But West’s words hit a nerve, and before I know it, the truth comes tumbling out.
“Okay, fine,” I say, sighing. “I was there because I found my boyfriend cheating, and I went there to fuck someone.”
His square jaw does this strange twitching motion.
The room falls silent as a wave of embarrassment washes over me. I didn’t mean to reveal so much or to sound so vulgar.
“Did you?” His voice sounds awfully like a growl.
“You know I didn’t. You saw me leave.”
“You could have used a room.”
I laugh.
I’m not the type of uninhibited girl that men who go to Club Elysium want.
I keep that to myself.
West’s expression softens. He leans forward, his eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m sorry he cheated on you, Amelia. That must have been tough for you.”
Having nowhere to live is tough. Breaking up with Felix was a blessing. At least I hope I continue thinking that way. “I caught him with my friend.”
“A friend?” West’s face darkens, and he mutters a curse under his breath. “What a piece of shit. You deserve so much better than that.”
“Thanks.” I smile, feeling a sense of gratitude towards him. It’s lovely to hear that, even if it is my boss. “It’s nice knowing someone understands. It makes me feel a little better.”
West nods, his eyes on mine. “If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to come to me.”
“I’ll be fine. Worse things have happened at sea.” I glance toward the ceiling.
What the fuck made me say that?
When I glance back down, I notice him staring. I clear my throat and say, “I’ll get onto investigating your future wife.”
He growls. “I’m only interested in the reasons not to marry her.”
I nod, already mentally preparing a list of resources to check. “Of course. I’ll get right on it.”
“Thank you, Amelia.” West’s voice softens. “And again, I’m sorry for doubting you earlier. I know you would do nothing like that. It’s just that this whole situation has me off balance.”
“It’s fine,” I assure him, standing up. “Is there anything else you need?”
He shakes his head. “No, that’s all for now. Just...keep this between us, okay?”
“Of course,” I promise, heading for the door. As I reach for the handle, I pause and look back at him. “Mr. Davenport?”
He looks up. “Yes?”
“Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. That’s what I’m here for.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I know. Thank you, Amelia.”