Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
J ames
For fuck’s sake.
I rub my eyes as I watch the security footage of Cecilia at the shop, talking to one of our sellers. I was alerted to her presence twenty minutes ago, and upon watching, it’s clear she’s already jumped straight to questioning my employees there.
Does she genuinely have nothing better to do? At the same time, it makes me wonder what her life was like when she had to deal with her brother's addictions. Did the pain run that deep to make her act out this way? I knew he had his problems back then, but I guess I never thought about what he may have done to hurt others.
I take the elevator downstairs and enter the waiting car, which will drive me straight to Labyrinth’s storefront. I can’t hide the delight on my face when I walk into the store and into the back office, where she’s sitting with a frown, her hands in her lap and her wrists wrapped in cuffs.
Her head pops up when she hears me enter, and her scowl deepens when she sees it's me, which only makes my grin grow. I kneel in front of her, which exasperates her expression even more because it is clear who holds all the power here.
I carefully lift my hands to her glasses and slide them up to rest on her head, revealing her glare. “I can’t deny the sight of you in handcuffs is all too pleasing for me,” I boast, locking my eyes with her murderous ones.
“I can’t believe you actually had me arrested,” she grumbles.
“I warned you, did I not? You want to play games, babe, but you don’t know who you’re playing with.”
“This isn’t a game to me. I am worried about my brother.”
“He is a grown man, Cecilia. You need to go back to your little library and leave my business alone. I won’t tell you again.”
“You might as well not because I won’t listen to you. I’m going to find out what he’s really doing. The harder you try to keep me away, the more reason I have to believe something is wrong around here.”
I sigh in annoyance and stand now, nodding at the guard to uncuff her. She rubs at her wrists, which have red welts around them, and I glare at the guard, Todd, I think is his name. “A little tight, no?”
“She wasn’t cooperative,” is all he says.
A small beat of anger flares inside me. “So, the next logical step is to inflict pain?” I ask him, and he has the nerve to look at me like I have no right to question him.
“You said to cuff her, and she fought me. I only tightened them so she knew her place,” he relents. I hear Cecilia scoff next to me like it was ridiculous to her as well.
I walk towards him, my gaze never leaving his as I press the pager button on the phone. “Marco, come back to the office, please,” I call over to my other guard, who is currently manning the storefront. He’s here in a minute, and I gaze at Todd as I acknowledge Marco. “Marco, you can run things alone tonight, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Great. Todd, you’re fired.”
“Are you kidding me?” he barks out, and I step towards him again, tilting my head as I glare straight into his eyes.
“Why are you still speaking after I’ve already dismissed you?”
His expression only hardens, but he decides to make the correct choice by keeping his mouth shut and leaving. Marco follows after him without my telling him, settling the decision of why he’s the better one out of the two.
“Wow, for a split second there, I think I admired you,” I hear Cecilia say in wonderment from her chair.
I glance back at her and fight the urge to chew on my lip because I am feeling an overwhelming mixture of things right now. Annoyance, anger, and a little bit of remorse for having her handcuffed because I didn’t realize he wouldn’t be gentle with her.
“Let’s go,” I tell her, turning away and walking to the door.
“Uh, where?”
“I’m taking you home.”
“I can do that myself, thanks.”
I turn back towards her and move closer, staring only inches from her face. “You’re like a cockroach, Cecilia. I don’t trust letting you leave and having you find your way back in somewhere. I’d rather dispose of you myself.”
“Seriously? A cockroach? That’s probably the grossest thing you could call a woman,” she grimaces.
“I assure you, little owl, there are worse things I could call you,” I say, turning back towards the door.
“You’re right. I forgot about your dreadful nickname for me.” She followed me out of the shop, and my driver opened the car door for us. I wait for her to get in, but she stands still on the sidewalk.
“For heaven’s sake, what now?” I grumble.
“I’m not sitting in a car with you for over three hours.”
“You won’t.”
“It takes…”
“I know how long it takes, Cecilia. We’ll be taking my jet. We’ll be there in an hour.”
Her eyes widened, and I felt that flipping feeling in my stomach as the blues became more vibrant. “I’m not getting in a jet,” she replies sternly.
I tilt my head in frustration as I look at her. “Don’t tell me for all the gull you put up around me that you fear flying?”
“It’s not a fear…” she sputters. “It’s just a…heavy dislike that makes me have little panic attacks.”
“So…it’s a fear.”
“I don’t have time for this. I’m just going to catch a train.” I chuckle, and she scrunches her face at me. “What?”
“You say you don’t have time, and yet you’d rather sit on a dirty public train for over three hours to get back home.”
“It’s better than being confined in an aircraft with the likes of you.”
I grin, moving closer to stand in front of her once more because, for some reason, I couldn’t seem to help but get close during our little sparring matches. “I don’t know about that, little owl. Lots of women particularly enjoy being in confined spaces with me.”
She swallows harshly and quite audibly. “I’m sorry, I think I just threw up a little bit.”
“Has anyone ever told you how impolite of a woman you are?”
“Mostly men, yes, and I find quite the pleasure in it.”
I look down at her particularly feminine outfit and back at the ill-mannered mouth she speaks from. “You’re quite the enigma, little owl.”
“Please quit with the nickname,” she groans.
“Get in the car, and maybe I will.”
“That doesn’t feel like a stable offer.”
“Get in the damn car Cecilia,” I snap.
“Not with that attitu—” I move to her side, place my hand against her back, forcibly shove her into the car, and then get in behind her, slamming the door shut. “I cannot believe you just shoved me in here,” she shouts. “This is…this is kidnapping.”
“Not if I’m returning you home, which, trust me, I am counting down the seconds.”
“I don’t know why my brother likes you so much,” she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re despicable.”
“Keep talking dirty to me, little owl. It makes being in enclosed spaces with you so much more bearable.”
“You’re just…” she huffs in a craze, and I chuckle as she tries to find words but keeps coming up empty. Eventually, she thinks better of it, slumps in her seat, and stares silently out the window until we get to my jet.
Once we’re there, I have to physically pull her from the car again when she sees the jet, but I’m not as bothered by it this time. I can feel her hand shaking in mine, and despite everything I go against, my hand tightens around hers, if only to calm her down. Although I wasn’t sure how calming my touch would be to her, she didn’t pull away.
I lead her to the jet and help lift her inside. I fasten her into her seat and notice the way her chest is quickly rising and falling with her rapid breaths and the way her empty gaze is staring past me like she’s looking death straight in the face.
“Breathe, babe,” I murmur as her eyes snap to mine.
“I think I’m doing too much breathing. I feel like my chest is going to explode.”
“It’s just your anxiety. Breathe in through your nose, hold it, and then breathe out through your mouth.” She does what I say, and I watch her shakiness slowly vanish.
It was a strange sight, seeing her in this vulnerable state. Our past encounters were always charged with hostility and defiance, but now, she appeared before me as a person in need—a person with genuine emotions and fears. This unexpected sight stirred a deep longing within me, reminding me of times when I yearned for a companion during such moments, yet I was always alone.
I sit down in the seat beside her and fasten myself in. I glance at her and note how she’s still doing the breathing exercises, but her eyes are squeezed shut. I stretch my arm out and take her hand in mine again, to which she instantly squeezes the hell out of. I’m not sure she even realizes she’s doing it, but I let her because she has a grip on me that only tells me she’ll lose it if she has to let go.
The jet takes off, and I’m confident she’s broken one of my fingers, but I remain quiet as she works through her fear. After thirty minutes in the air, I notice her grip on me lightening, and she slowly opens her eyes, letting them roam around us.
“Oh my gosh, we’re really flying,” she exclaims.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her. She looks over at me like she’s surprised by the question.
“I feel like I could throw up,” she says honestly.
I try not to laugh because, despite her blunt personality that most men would probably find unattractive, I sometimes found it refreshing, as crude as it was sometimes.
“As ladylike as ever, little owl.”
She smiles and turns to look back out the window but quickly faces me again. Her hand still clutches mine, and I wonder if she realizes it. Does she like holding my hand? I don’t know if I’ve ever held hands with a woman before, and I don’t know how I felt about it.
“Is it all right if I just look at you? I think if I look outside, I actually will be sick.”
“If you must,” I relent. But then she just stares, and I find myself feeling utterly exposed in this small space with her penetrating blue eyes on me. “If you’re going to just stare daggers into me, then I’d rather you be sick.”
She giggles, and the sound catches me off guard. My gaze whips to her mouth like I needed to hear the sound escape it once more to believe it came from her. It sounded so light and feminine.
“I’m sorry. You’re …kind of majestic looking,” she admits.
I pinch my brows together as I meet her gaze. “Majestic? I don’t think anyone’s ever described me as majestic.”
She giggles again, and my eyes snap to her mouth once more. Her lips were covered in a sheen of gloss that made them look like the color of pink peaches, and I found myself entranced with their poutiness and the noises she could escape from them.
“You’re different looking from most men. Your hair. Your eyes.”
“Ah yes, my eyes.” They’ll be the death of me. It was all anyone ever noticed about me.
“What? You don’t like them?”
“It’s that the world likes them too much. It’s a condition I’ve had since I was a child called Anisocoria. One of my pupils is larger than the other, causing it to darken my iris. It’s gotten tiring to the point that every time I look at them, I’m reminded that they’re one of the only things that makes someone notice me.” I wasn’t sure why I told her that. I didn’t usually open up about these things to people, but she was holding my hand and leaning so close that it made me feel like a key was shoved into my chest, unlocking something within me. But I wouldn’t tell her just how my eyes came to be this way. That was a story I’d probably keep inside forever.
“You don’t think women like you for you?” she asks.
I really look at her now, keeping my expression bored when I feel anything but when I talk to her. “I know that they don’t.”
“That’s…kind of sad,” she says, even sounding it.
“Don’t get sad on my account, little owl,” I say, turning away from her. “I’m quite happy with my life the way it is.”
I see her roll her eyes in my peripheral, and it makes me feel a little better to see her being fiery again. “Trust me, I’m not feeling anything on your account except pure disdain.”
“Yeah?” I ask, facing her again, unable to help the way my mouth keeps smiling on its own.
“Yup,” she says, popping her lips dramatically.
“Is that why you haven’t let go of my hand since we set foot on the jet?”
She looks down at our interlocked hands and rips hers away, her face one of disgust, and I only chuckle as I pull my hand back and look forward again.
“I can’t stand you,” she grumbles.
“Feelings mutual, babe.”
Once we land, Cecilia practically dives out of the jet, and she has no issue getting into my waiting car herself this time. She let out a long breath as she got into the passenger seat, and I slipped into the driver’s seat and began driving out of the parking garage.
“You look relieved,” I remark.
“Because I’m almost out of your presence.”
“What’s your address?”
“Just take me to the library.”
“What, you’re going to work now?”
“No, I just don’t feel comfortable giving a stranger, let alone a deranged one, my address. I have a friend there.”
I laugh now. “I’m hardly a stranger at this point.”
“That’s what you object to?” she guffaws.
I shake my head. “Fine. I’ll take you to the library.”
The car ride is silent the entire way there, and the closer we get, the more I begin feeling anxious. I couldn’t explain it. She annoyed the ever-loving life out of me, but at the same time, I couldn’t remember being so amused and distracted with something other than work for such a long time. I forgot what it was like to be doing anything other than work.
I park in front of the library, and she’s out of my car in a flash. I hurry out and follow behind her. She glares at me over her shoulder, stops on one of the steps that leads inside, and turns to face me.
“What are you doing?”
“Walking you inside.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Maybe I want to apply for a library card. They’re free, right?”
“As if you couldn’t afford a million of them anyway,” she mumbles as she turns back to enter the library.
It’s quiet when we enter, like most libraries are, and I think there might not be anyone here. “Who minds the place when you’re not around?” I ask her curiously.
“My friend Lance,” she answers. I remember her saying she had a friend here. For some na?ve reason, I wasn’t expecting it to be a man. She shrugs off her cardigan and hangs it on the back of her chair behind her desk. Her top is a short-sleeved white button-down that looks incredibly thin, like a napkin and stops under her chest. Her skirt was pulled high over her waist but showed exceptional skin and cleavage.
I clear my throat as I tear my eyes away from her body and gaze at the library around us. “Do you like reading?” I ask her.
“Is that a serious question?”
“Yes.”
“I’m a librarian. It’s kind of in the job description.”
“What’s your favorite book?”
Her cheeks flush, and I don’t understand why. “I don’t have one.”
I move closer to her, tilting my head as I look at her more intently now. “Are you shy about what you read?”
“No…I just…don’t want to discuss it with you.”
“Because you value my judgment?”
“Of course not,” she balks, making me laugh. She huffs out an irritated breath. “If you must know, it’s a book called The Noble Woman’s Lover.”
“What’s it about?”
She blinks at me, staring for a good minute before relenting. “It’s a historical romance about a woman who wanted to be an author. She didn’t want to marry or measure her worth by having a husband and children. She wanted to see the world and experience things. Upon her travels, she meets a rude man who owns a tavern and thinks she’s too witty for her own good, but fate keeps bringing them together until, eventually, he’s mad at her.”
I listen, partially interested. I wasn’t much of a romance reader, but the idea of the book didn’t sound bad. “Does she settle down for him?” I ask curiously.
She smiles. “No. She never settles down.”
“So, they don’t end up together in the end?”
“I never said that,” she says cunningly.
“I see,” I hum in understanding. “He keeps her wild.”
“Exactly. It’s my favorite because, in a time when men only wanted to control and tame their women, he loved that he couldn’t.”
“Sounds painfully accurate for women these days.”
“It’s the fight we’ll keep fighting.”
I narrow my eyes on her. “Something tells me you’d be a winning opponent,” I say, unable to stop my ridiculous smiling again. Her brows lift in surprise as a smile of her own widens her mouth.
“Lia, I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” I hear a voice interrupt, and I look over my shoulder at a man walking toward her. He had messy brown hair and dressed like a lumberjack minus the beard, which I’m not sure would have helped his cause anyway. He stops at her side and places a hand on the small of her back, and she looks up at him, focusing her smile, the one I gave her, onto him.
My stomach turns inside out as I watch their interaction, and I become increasingly frustrated as they pay me no attention and murmur to each other. I’m not sure what she even tells him, but his hand is making circling motions on her back, and she is still smiling at him.
“Cecilia,” I snap out without thinking, and both of their gazes whip to mine, her eyes wide and his curious. “I’d like a word with you before I go.”
“Okay,” she draws out suspiciously, remaining where she is.
I look over to her friend, who is also unmoving. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Lance,” he answers, and the sound of his boyish voice, for some reason, makes me grind my teeth together.
“So, you know I said I wanted a word with Cecilia, not Cecilia and Lance.”
“James,” Cecilia warns.
I look back at her, giving her a false, polite smile. “I’d just like some privacy, babe.”
Lance looks down at her in reassurance, and she nods her head in okay for him to go. I roll my eyes, watching them. Once he’s gone, she looks back at me with murderous eyes.
“You’re such an ass. You know that?”
“I’m aware,” I agree, moving closer to her desk that she’s keeping between us like a barricade.
“What is it you want?” she asks impatiently.
I don’t know why I do it. I barely give myself time to think about it. All I knew was that I liked playing these games with her, and I needed to do something to resolve her constant nosiness that kept pulling me away from my work and threatening Tobias’s job. It was risky, considering Tobias didn’t want her anywhere near me, and I was about to make that notion extremely hard. I wanted to play with her. I wanted to torment her to the point of giving up on me and her escapades completely while stealing all of her time just so that mine didn’t feel as dull.
I never claimed to be a nice guy. I was selfish and impulsive, which has always gotten me what I want.
“I’m want to offer you a job,” I tell her.
“Uhm…I already have a job.”
“Think of it like a spectator position. You’ll play like my personal assistant, going where I go and seeing what I see. That way, you can finally put this crazy notion to rest that I’m endangering your brother.”
She quirks a brow up, and I know I have her entire interest now. “Why would you do that?”
“Frankly, I’m tired of having to set my tasks aside to deal with your craziness. If you work for me, I won’t have to always live in fear of you popping up at random times, and you’ll get to see firsthand the kind of work we do, which is dreadfully boring and entirely safe, I might add.”
It was a flat-out lie, but she didn’t need to know that. I will obviously have to move things around and ensure she doesn’t witness anything that would prove her right, but I could make it happen. Funnily enough, I would make it happen with Tobias doing all the work behind the curtain while I show Cecilia the just-for-show parts of my industry.
“You’re being serious?” she asks curiously like she doesn’t believe me.
“As a heart attack, little owl. Can you manage it? Monday through Friday, early mornings to late evenings?”
She hesitates for only a second before nodding. “I can handle it.”
“Only one stipulation though. Your brother knows nothing about this little endeavor.”
She scrunches her face in confusion. “Then how will I know what he’s really doing?”
“I’ll make sure you see him, but he will not see you. Is that understood?” She thinks about it and then nods her head slowly in agreement.
I grin at her and revel in the way she swallows nervously. “I’ll see you at seven on the dot Monday morning.”
I’d give her a week to sort out her job at the library, and she’d also probably have to find somewhere to stay in the city, but I knew she’d figure it out. She was nothing if not determined.
I walk out of the library and get back into my car. Satisfaction and unease filling my chest at the idea of treating her like my personal assistant. For the first time ever, my impulsive decision leaves me incredibly unsettled.