Chapter 17
Megan
“I’m unhirable,” I moan.
“Oh, please. It hasn’t even been two weeks.” Nicole doesn’t spare me a glance. She’s getting ready for another night shift at Champagne while I wallow over my laptop and my empty email inbox.
“Actually, it has. And besides the interview you got me at Champagne, I’ve had two crappy interviews for jobs I desperately need, but don’t particularly want, and I didn’t even get any offers. And no one else is contacting me.”
“Something will come through. It just might take a while. You don’t have to kick in rent this month, okay? I can cover you.”
“Oh god, this sucks.” I fall back on the bed. “Maybe I should just go back to Crooks Creek.”
“What?!You did not just say that. What the hell is there in Crooks Creek for you?”
“My old job back? And a place to live?”
She turns to me. “You wouldn’t seriously go back to him.”
“Not to him. But at least I could afford a place of my own.” I catch the foot in my mouth and choke on it. “Not that I’m not totally grateful for what you’re doing for me, letting me stay here with you all?—”
“Megan. It’s okay. I know it’s not the Shangri-La.” She returns to doing her makeup. “Just stop putting so much pressure on yourself. It’ll all work out.” Her phone buzzes. “It’s the front door,” she says, picking up. “Hello?” She listens, then says, “Just a minute,” and covers the microphone hole with her finger. “Some guy named Roderick? He has a package for you.”
I frown, thinking. “Rurik?”
“Maybe that was it.”
She buzzes whoever it is into the building and I jog down the hall to catch the elevator. I hear it coming up, and when the door opens, Jameson’s grouchiest security guy is standing there, wearing that faint permascowl.
His name is Rurik, he’s originally from Russia, his English is flawless, but he doesn’t talk much. I learned all this when I bought him an iced coffee while he was following me around the other day. He looked thirsty. It was hot out, and he was in his suit.
At his feet, there’s a suitcase.
I back up as he rolls it out and parks it at my feet. Then he hands me the envelope he’s carrying. “For you,” is all he says.
My name is handwritten on the front.
By the time I open my mouth to ask what it is, the elevator has swallowed him and starts to descend.
The suitcase he’s left looks expensive. It smells new. It’s all black, leather with metal trim, and has double G symbols stamped all over the leather.
I open the envelope, my heart thumping, and slip out the handwritten letter. I read it right there in the hallway, with my fingers faintly shaking and a strange lump forming in my throat.
Dear Megan,
I want to let you know that Romeo returned to work the day after you left. I should’ve mentioned that before, to alleviate your worries about him, but somehow in my single-minded pursuit of you, it didn’t occur to me that it might ease your mind to know that. Also, I’m getting his wife appropriate care for her vision loss. Thank you for bringing the issue to my attention.
I also want to apologize for the hasty proposal. I realize now that I went into it overconfident and failed to give it the proper care it was due. I’ve had more time to think about it, and I hope you’ve been thinking about it as well.
If your answer is still no, there will be no hard feelings on my part.
However, I can’t promise you that I won’t ask again.
Sincerely yours,
Jameson Vance
My pulse is thudding too loudly in my ears and my breathing is shallow and fast. The man floors me. He isn’t even here and I’m shaking with nerves.
No, excitement. I’m shaking with a heady excitement.
I take a few deep breaths that do nothing to calm me as I grasp the handle of the heavy suitcase, and roll it back to the apartment, then into Nicole’s room.
She pauses as she’s putting on mascara. “Wow. Nice suitcase. From Cole?”
“No,” I say weakly, “not from Cole.”
“Oh, shit.” Her eyes widen. “The beautiful billionaire strikes again. Now he’s giving you Gucci?”
I go sit on the bed. My legs feel weak. I’m getting a sick adrenaline rush off all his attention.
Nicole goes to check out the suitcase that’s clearly worth more than everything I brought with me to the city. She turns over the stylish luggage tag. “There’s a note here.” She reads it out loud: “In case you want to come back.”
I squeeze out an uncomfortable noise.
“Well, aren’t you gonna open it? What if there’s stuff inside?”
“I’m pretty sure there is.”
“Want me to open it?”
“Sure.” I scan the letter again, not really seeing it. Certain words just keep floating around my brain.
Romeo returned to work…
I’m getting his wife appropriate care for her vision loss.
My single-minded pursuit of you…
“Oh, it’s heavy!” Nicole spreads the suitcase open on the floor, delighted.
It’s packed.
She carefully turns over another tag that’s been attached to the inside and reads another note: “In case you don’t come back.” Her eyes meet mine, her pupils blown wide. The Wanty cat is back. “Oh, baby. I’m swooning inside.”
“Thank you for containing yourself,” I say dryly.
“I’m trying.”
I watch as she pores over the items in the suitcase.
“It’s all things you might need, you know, for starting your new life! There’s a set of cutlery and plates and linen napkins and luxury soap and toiletries and… oh! Seed starter packs for herbs and flowers, and some little pots to plant them in! There’s a gift card here for Gardenworks. And a cute little pack of bungee cords!”
She picks it up. Mini ones in bright colors.
“There’s a note on it. It says… You have to be prepared for anything.”
I swallow. That was exactly what I said to him when we first met, in the street, when I pulled out my bungee cords.
“And there’s a little toolbox…” She lifts it out. “This is so cute! And it’s so… you.”
“It is,” I say faintly.
“How does he know you so well?” Nicole marvels. “This is incredibly thoughtful.”
I clear my throat, trying to find words. “Or incredibly creepy, considering he’s been spying on me.”
“Spying?”
“The guy who brought this, Rurik, is one of his security guys. I told you, they’ve been following me around.”
I don’t want to acknowledge that Jameson could’ve learned so much about me simply by paying attention.
And, you know, being interested.
“I don’t care what you say, Miss Jaded. This is romantic!” Nicole continues pawing through the items in the suitcase. “There’s a lovely towel set in here! And dish towels. He thought of everything.”
“Or one of his assistants did.”
She makes a face. “Don’t try to devalue it just so you can keep pretending he’s not fabulous.”
“If you think he’s so fabulous… maybe you should get engaged to him,” I offer weakly.
Nicole drops the towels she’s feeling up. “Now there’s an interesting idea. Look me in the eye, Megan Hudson,” she demands, “and tell me you’d actually let me do that.”
I look away.
“HA! I knew it. You think he’s fabulous, too.”
I sigh.
There’s no way I’ll admit to her how right she is.