Chapter Five #2
He had to be kidding. The man took his rules too seriously to want me to burn it. Besides, he’d still have a copy, so it was a silly gesture anyway.
As I reached the threshold of the conservatory, I collided with Leo Martin in a cloud of humid air and eucalyptus. He was holding a trowel and a pot of something that looked suspiciously like a succulent.
“Whoa, easy there,” he said, catching the door before it slammed into his shin. “I heard a rumor the new assistant was running laps in the rose garden.”
“Just getting a head start on the day,” I said, hoping my smile didn’t look as fake as it felt.
Leo had the laid-back posture of someone who’d never lost a fight, not even against the weeds.
His shirt sleeves were already rolled, displaying tanned forearms and a constellation of old scars and freckles.
He set down the trowel and grinned. “You’re an early riser. That’ll either get you promoted, or eaten alive. Maybe both.”
“Don’t tempt fate,” I said. I tried to step past, but he blocked the path with the subtlety of a brick wall.
He gestured to the orchid display, which was halfway between explosion and collapse. “Come look at this,” he said. “You ever see a Paphiopedilum wardii up close?” He pronounced it perfectly, which was both impressive and a little infuriating.
I played along, not because I cared about rare orchids, but because the only other option was to power-walk straight into his shoulder. “Is that the one that looks like a dragon’s tongue?” I asked.
He whistled, impressed. “Somebody did her homework. Most people just call it a Lady’s Slipper.” He led me to a cluster of plants with waxy, blotched petals and a pouch like a tiny, greedy stomach. “They only bloom once a year. Gotta respect that kind of discipline.”
“They’re beautiful,” I said. I meant it, but the word felt like a trap.
Leo crouched to adjust a wayward stem, then looked up at me, eyes blue and bright as a glacier lake. “You from around here, Eden?”
I was ready for this. Every job came with a staff member who made it their mission to extract your entire biography before your second paycheck cleared. “Not really,” I said. “Did a stint in Chicago, before that Indiana, before that a lot of moving around.”
“Military brat?” he asked.
“No. Just—life.” I shifted my weight, suddenly aware that my socks were soaking through at the toes. “You?”
“Born and bred. Wolfe’s paid my way since I was sixteen.” His smile was crooked, but there was pride behind it. “Not that he’d admit it, but the gardens are my babies. Most of the plants in here? I brought them from the old house.”
I doubted a control freak like Gareth would allow that, but I nodded, trying to look interested but not too interested. “It’s impressive,” I said. “You’ve got a good thing going.”
He straightened, and the energy changed. “You like plants?” he asked, stepping closer. “Or is this just a job?”
“Both?” I said, and then instantly regretted the way my voice went up at the end.
“Both is fair,” he said, as if we were considering something larger than a preference for houseplants. “But you seem like the type who likes a challenge.”
“I just like being useful,” I said. Which was true, except I liked not being the subject of an interrogation even more.
Leo smiled, but didn’t drop it. “I get it. You want to prove yourself.” He gestured at the glass walls. “I mean, who wouldn’t, working for a guy like Wolfe?”
The name landed like a dropped anvil between us. Leo watched me, looking for a reaction. I kept my face neutral.
“He’s…intense,” I said, choosing the least dangerous adjective.
“Intense is putting it mildly. Don’t let him get under your skin.” Leo’s eyes narrowed, as if he was testing to see if Wolfe had already succeeded.
I shrugged. “He’s my boss. That’s all.”
Leo grinned wider. “If you say so.” He leaned in, lowering his voice as if sharing a state secret. “Between you and me? He can’t handle people who say no. He’ll respect you more if you stand your ground.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, though I doubted Wolfe respected anything, least of all my ability to say no.
There was a moment of silence. Leo rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets, and for a second I thought the interrogation was over. I was wrong.
“So, what do you do for fun?”
I blinked. “For fun?”
He nodded, all innocence. “Yeah. You know, outside of wrangling spreadsheets and listening to Maribel rant about butter?”
I fumbled for an answer. “I…read?” Which was true, but the way Leo’s eyebrows shot up made me wish I’d said base-jumping or taxidermy instead.
He laughed. “You’re serious.” He reached for a stray blossom, spun it between his thumb and forefinger, and then, inexplicably, tucked it behind my ear. “There. You look more like you belong here now.”
I should have been annoyed, but my face was suddenly on fire, and my mouth didn’t work the way it was supposed to. “Thanks,” I mumbled, fighting the urge to yank the flower out and stomp on it.
He glanced at his watch. “You hungry? Maribel usually has breakfast by now.”
“I was just heading that way,” I said. But if it got me out of the conservatory, I’d have said I was on my way to Mars.
He fell in step beside me as we walked the brick path back to the main hall. The condensation on the glass made the room shimmer and pulse with light. Leo kept the conversation going, rapid-fire, as if he was afraid of silence.
“So, what’s your story? You married? Dating? Secretly in love with the mailman?”
I laughed, but it came out more like a cough. “None of the above. Why?”
He shrugged, but his eyes never left my face. “Just curious. Lotta people come here running from something. Or to someone.”
“I guess I’m running toward a better job,” I said, which was both true and safe.
“Not a bad answer,” he said. “But you know, if you ever want to do something besides work—there’s a bar in town. Karaoke night, Friday. You sing?”
“Only when threatened,” I said.
He laughed. “I gotcha.”
We reached the service corridor that led to the kitchen, and I felt my pulse speed up in anticipation of coffee and an end to the Inquisition. But Leo wasn’t finished.
“So, what do you really think of Wolfe?” he asked. The words were soft, but sharp.
I hesitated, thinking of the NDA and the clauses about discretion. “He’s my boss,” I said.
“Other than that.” Leo was pushing me with words, and I didn’t like it. “The last assistant said he was the coldest human being she’d ever met. Like a walking meat freezer.”
I remembered the way Gareth’s hands had felt yesterday, steady, hot, alive, and shook my head. “He’s not cold,” I said, surprising myself. “He’s just focused on what he wants in life. All of us would probably be better if we followed his lead.”
Leo’s face changed then. The humor faded, replaced by something assessing. “You might be right about that,” he said. “Just watch yourself. Around him.”
There it was. A warning, wrapped in charm.
“I will.” I looked down, suddenly desperate to escape.
As we reached the kitchen door, I caught a glimpse of myself in the polished panel; hair wild, orchid askew, cheeks red. I looked less like the efficient new hire and more like a girl who’d just gotten caught passing a note in class.
“See you at breakfast?” Leo said, lingering just a second too long.
I nodded, already half through the door. “Yeah. See you.”
He walked off, whistling a tune I didn’t recognize, and I let out a shaky breath. The kitchen was empty, but the smell of cinnamon rolls and coffee meant Maribel would be here soon.
I pulled the flower from behind my ear and set it on the counter. The petals were already starting to wilt.
I checked my phone, found a new message from my best friend:
Survive the day?
It’s morning. Have you been day drinking again?
I put the phone away, poured myself a cup, and enjoyed that my phone was now buzzing nonstop as Ruby blew up my notifications with texts. I sighed, and tried to memorize the feeling of peace before the next round started.
I had a feeling that it wouldn’t last long
Leo was already in the kitchen by the time I’d drained my first cup of coffee and scraped the sugar crust off a cinnamon roll. He leaned on the counter, arms folded, surveying the room like a general planning a siege.
I nursed my mug and tried not to look like I was counting down the minutes to my next task. But Leo was impossible to ignore, even when silent.
He nodded at the mug. “You know, if you add a little orange zest, it cuts the bitterness.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m immune to bitterness at this point.”
He laughed, but the sound was softer this time. “You get used to the house. All the rules, the eyes in the walls. Eventually, it feels like home.”
“I’m not sure I want it to feel like home,” I said, not meaning to say it aloud.
He shrugged. “Some people don’t. Some people just want to leave a mark and move on.” He paused, watching me. “You don’t seem like a mark-leaver.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant. I focused on the mug, tracing the wolf’s outline with my thumb.
We both jumped when the door swung open with a click. In stepped Gareth Wolfe; suit, tie, and a presence that made the kitchen seem half its actual size.
He didn’t speak at first. He didn’t need to. Just standing there, he commanded the space. The temperature seemed to drop a degree. I went ramrod straight on my stool, shoulders squared, mug frozen mid-air.
Leo’s posture shifted, too. Not defensive, but alert, like a dog waiting for a command.
Gareth’s eyes skipped over Leo, then landed on me. “Ms. Blake,” he said, voice cool as the marble tiles. “I need to review the vendor contracts with you at ten. Please be prompt.”
“Of course,” I said, my voice coming out thin.
He turned to Leo, who nodded, almost respectfully. “Boss,” Leo said.
“Mr. Martin,” said Gareth. No inflection. No warmth. Just a pointed, surgical incision.
The silence that followed was as thick as the cinnamon roll frosting. I looked between them, unsure whether to break the silence or disappear.
Gareth broke the stare first. “You’ll take breakfast in your quarters today, Ms. Blake,” he said, as if it was a decree and not a question. “Maribel will bring it up.”
“Understood,” I said, too fast.
He watched me a second longer, eyes narrowing as if searching for a flaw in my answer. Then he turned and left, footsteps barely making a sound. The kitchen felt instantly lighter.
Leo exhaled, shaking his head. “Told you. He’s intense.”
I gave him a tight smile. “He keeps things…efficient.”
Leo grinned, but I could see the gears turning in his head. “You ever see him lose it? Like, really lose it?”
“Nope, doubt I will ever see that.” But a sudden flash in my mind, the thought of him taking me, stunned me speechless. I knew I was attracted to him, and I was pretty sure he was attracted to me, too.
Leo’s eyes softened. “He’s harmless, unless you cross him.” He winked, but the joke didn’t quite land. “Or unless you start winning.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant, either, but I finished my coffee, excused myself, and beat a hasty retreat toward my room.
The air in the hall was colder, and as I walked, the memory of Gareth’s voice echoed in my chest. The way he’d said my name, not just as an order, but almost as a claim.
Like he was protecting me from whatever was going to happen next.
But obviously, that couldn’t be the case.
My heart sped up, then slowed again as I realized what that meant.
I wasn’t sure whether I was relieved, or disappointed, or something else entirely.
In my room, I found the bed made, the sheets crisp and untouched, the balcony doors cracked open just enough to let in the scent of roses and morning.
On the desk, a manila folder waited; vendors, highlighted and tabbed.
I sat down and opened it, but my mind kept drifting to the kitchen, to the charged silence and the way Leo had looked at Gareth, and the way Gareth had looked at me.
He didn’t look at me like I was just an employee.
I pressed my hands to the desk, tried to focus on the numbers, but the words swam. Outside, the sunlight caught the edge of the wolf fountain, and for a second I wanted to go out there and just run, lose myself in the garden until the air burned my lungs and I couldn’t hear my own thoughts.
Instead, I texted my best friend.
Boss ordered me to stay in my room for breakfast. Starting to think he’s a literal vampire.
Omg. He’s into you.
I shook my head. NO. He is just a control freak.
Trust me. Seen this a million times. If you want to make him crazy, ignore him for a day.
I stared at the screen, the ridiculousness of the advice almost making me laugh. But it did make the knot in my chest loosen, just a bit.
I couldn’t resist poking back. Sounds like a good way to get fired.
Putting my phone back in my pocket, I closed the contract folder and sat back, letting the sunlight wash over me. The room was so quiet, I felt I could scream and no one would hear me.
Something was happening, and I was locked away like a naughty child.
Why did that sting my pride so much?