48. Brendan
CHAPTER 48
Brendan
H er face crumples, and my first thought is oh Jesus, I’ve made her cry again.
But this is important.
‘No, please,’ she begs, pushing up onto her elbow and staring down at me, her brown, tear-filled eyes beseeching.
‘Seriously, Brendan, I know we’ve both fucked up, and I knew I was playing with fire by lying so much, but I need this job.
I’ve still got—we’re not done with the expenses, you see.
I need to save more, I need to know we have an emergency fund in case Tabs has any complications.
I can’t go back to relying on the NHS again.
I’ve never felt so powerless in my life.
Forget I said anything.
If you’ll—I just need a couple more months.
’ She hesitates. ‘I’ll do whatever you want.
’
She’s breathing heavily, and I feel sick to my stomach once more, because Jesus fuck.
She thinks I’m firing her, and she thinks she can tempt me to change my mind by offering to overlook her own sexual boundaries?
I have never heard such fucked-up horseshit in all my life.
I pull her right back down onto her pillows and haul myself up so I have the advantage.
‘Fucking hell, Marlowe. Don’t you ever, ever offer to prostitute yourself like that, understand?
I’m not firing you, love.
The contract stays. I still want you as my PA, and God knows, I’m not about to cut your pay either.
I’m telling you I won’t touch you.
I’m not in the habit of exploiting struggling single mothers who do desperate things to save their kids’ lives.
Not consciously, anyway,’ I add, because I’ve been unwittingly doing just that.
She glares at me. ‘I can’t take that obscene salary every month and not hold up my end of the bargain,’ she spits, and I hate this.
I really fucking do.
I hate that there’s any transaction between us, and I hate that she feels some obligation to “uphold” it, and I hate most that I’ve ruined the tentative trust that was blossoming between the two of us.
‘Well you have to, because I have no intention of going anywhere near you sexually in the office, and if you try something then that’ll be harassment,’ I argue.
We eye each other mulishly.
‘I could quit.’
‘You need the money, and there’s no fucking way I’d let you go back on Seraph’s books.
Over my dead body. Look, you have two options.
You can take a pay cut and I’ll fund all of Tabby’s medical bills going forward, no questions asked.
Or we can continue everything about our working relationship, minus the sex part, which gives you the chance to save whatever you need.
’
She hesitates, and I know she’s close to caving.
The perverse benefits of negotiating with a broken, exhausted woman, I suppose.
‘You have one priority, and that’s Tabby,’ I continue.
‘Now is not the time to be settling into any new job while she recovers. You and I work well together. You know my systems and my business and my idiosyncrasies. I don’t want a new assistant.
’
‘Why are you doing all this?’ she whispers.
I’m still up on one elbow, gazing down at her.
She looks so small and alone and uncertain that it slays me.
I wish I could run my fingers through her still-damp hair and tell her what I’ve grown to accept over the past twenty-four hours—that she is my whole world, and it terrifies me.
That I will move heaven and earth to make her happy and to keep her daughter safe.
That she holds all the power, every last drop of it, and I never stood a chance with her, only I was too scaredy-cat to admit it to myself.
I wish I could tell her that keeping her on as my regular EA-with-no-benefits isn’t an altruistic or financially reckless move on my end but a desperate ploy to keep her close, to buy myself time while I embark on several monumental tasks.
To regain her trust.
To build a relationship with the most important person in her life.
To prove myself worthy of playing the part I know I want to play in both their lives.
It may sound rash. After all, I’m not known for my impulse control.
But it’s not. On the contrary, it’s very bloody overdue.
I fucked up once, and I’m not going to let this opportunity slip through my fingers again.
Because I have no intention of ever losing this woman again.
But I can’t divulge the wishes of my heart now, because she won’t want to hear them, and she’s not ready to hear them, and, most importantly, I haven’t earned the right to voice them.
Instead, I shrug. ‘Partly it’s self-serving.
I’d rather keep you around than train up a new EA.
But mainly it’s a way for me to make amends.
I didn’t support you.
On the contrary, I failed you, big time.
I told you in the shower that I’m not here to save you, but I am here to support you.
I’ve put so much extra strain on you at a time in your life when you needed to conserve all your strength for Tabby, and I’ve caused you so much hurt, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
So let me show you my support in the way I know best.’
She bites her lip, then nods.
‘Okay… thanks. If you’re sure—I mean, it’s so generous.
But only for another couple of months, alright?
Then I should have enough saved up.
’
I’m sure it will seem to her as though I’m throwing money at the situation.
Good old Brendan. He’s never one to inconvenience himself, but God knows he’s adept at putting his hand in his pocket.
But that’s not the full truth.
I’m not trying to buy her.
I’m trying to buy time .
The money buys me a way in, and I’ll take every second as a chance to show up for her.
To show up for Tabby.
To prove to them, through consistent action rather than my usual charming words and easy smiles, that I’m someone they want to keep around.
I should probably reacquaint my dick with my fist.
It’s going to be a long, dry couple of months.