Chapter 35
Emma followed the security guard through the private medical center and down into the underground parking garage.
He stopped beside a silver-gray Rolls-Royce.
The rear door was already open.
A man in a tailored gray suit sat inside, a tablet in one hand and an earpiece in place. His features were composed and refined, his voice calm as he spoke to several people on a conference call.
Emma walked over with a smile.
"Mr. Grant."
Nathan Grant looked up.
The moment he saw her, a faint smile touched his face. He gestured toward the empty seat beside him, silently telling her to get in.
Emma didn't stand on ceremony. They'd been doing this for almost a year.
She slipped into the car and closed the door while Nathan continued his meeting.
There was something deceptively easygoing about him. He was unfailingly polite, rarely raised his voice, and carried himself with the kind of quiet confidence that made people comfortable around him.
But no one who knew who Nathan Grant was would mistake that gentleness for softness.
He'd spent years at the highest levels of business. Authority had settled into him so naturally that he didn't need to show it off.
Emma had learned that very early on.
Since Nathan was busy, she pulled out her phone and started scrolling.
Yesterday's frenzy had already cooled considerably. Clips of Princess Vivienne were still circulating, and her follower count remained ridiculous, but the bigger entertainment accounts had mostly moved on.
Exactly as she'd expected.
The internet had a short attention span. Yesterday, everyone wanted to know who Emma Carter was. Give it a few days and they'd find someone else to obsess over.
As she scrolled, another familiar name caught her eye.
Emma blinked.
Right.
Julian's concert.
She'd almost forgotten it was today.
It was his first full-scale stadium concert as a headliner, and the venue was enormous. Starting that big was unusual even for an established artist, but apparently Julian Sterling could get away with it.
The tickets had sold out almost as soon as they were released.
Her feed was already packed with fans traveling in from other cities, showing off outfits and merchandise, comparing seats, and counting down the hours until the doors opened.
Julian's team had also put unusually strict limits on ticket purchases and used verified fan accounts for parts of the sale, making it harder for scalpers to swallow up huge blocks of tickets.
Emma scrolled through a few excited posts.
Apparently, half the city had Julian Sterling on the brain today.
"What are you looking at?"
A warm, steady voice sounded beside her.
Emma looked up.
Nathan had finished his meeting and removed the earpiece.
"Nothing. Just scrolling." She put away her phone. "You're done?"
"For now."
He set the tablet aside.
"Come on."
They left the car and headed back upstairs.
Nathan was tall—well over six feet—and Emma, even in heels, only came up to around his shoulder.
His gray suit emphasized broad shoulders and a lean frame, but it was the way he carried himself that drew attention. Calm, unhurried, completely at ease.
Emma beside him was an entirely different kind of eye-catching.
The fitted black dress, heels, loose waves and red lipstick made her look far removed from the college student who had escaped a crowd on a pink scooter the night before.
They drew a few glances as they crossed the lobby.
There was an obvious age difference between them, but somehow it didn't make them look mismatched. If anything, they looked exactly like the sort of wealthy, attractive couple strangers would notice and then pretend they hadn't been staring at.
The elevator took them directly to the top floor.
When the doors opened, Emma stepped into a private area that barely looked like part of a medical center.
Sunlight poured through the glass walls, and beyond them stretched a rooftop garden filled with flowers and greenery.
The entire floor served only one patient.
A woman in a cream-colored dress stood among the flowers with a watering can.
She heard the elevator and turned.
The moment she saw Emma, her face lit up.
"Emma!"
She put down the watering can and hurried over.
"You came to see me!"
"Of course I did."
Emma smiled and reached for her hands.
Helen was in her fifties. Silver threaded through her dark hair, and there were fine lines around her eyes, but the delight on her face had an almost childlike openness to it.
She was Nathan's mother.
Her illness had once been severe enough that, during an episode, she could become violent toward others or herself. Years of treatment had eventually stabilized her condition, though she'd lost large pieces of her memory along the way and now approached much of the world with a child's simplicity.
Fortunately, she hadn't had a serious episode in six months.
Emma was relieved about that.
Especially because they hadn't met under peaceful circumstances.
Almost a year ago, Nance University had organized a charity theater program at several hospitals and care facilities.
Emma had been part of the cast.
When their group performed here, Helen had been allowed to attend.
Everything had gone normally until something during the performance triggered her.
One moment she was watching the stage.
The next, she was in the middle of a severe episode.
She grabbed a chair and swung it at someone nearby. Then she dropped to the floor and began trying to hurt herself.
The room erupted into panic.
While everyone else backed away, Emma jumped off the stage and ran toward her. She had no idea who the woman was; she only knew that if someone didn't stop her, she was going to seriously hurt herself.
Emma caught her and held on.
"Hey. It's okay."
Helen fought against her.
Emma didn't let go.
"Don't do that. You're going to hurt yourself."
She kept talking to her quietly until the medical staff arrived.
Even after a sedative began to take effect, Helen clung to Emma's hand and refused to release it.
Nathan arrived not long afterward.
The first thing he saw was a college student sitting beside his mother's bed, her hand still trapped firmly in Helen's.
Something unusual flickered through his normally unreadable expression.
Later, when Helen woke up, she seemed to have forgotten the entire episode.
She looked at Nathan.
Then at Emma.
Her eyes brightened.
"Nathan, is this your girlfriend?"
Emma opened her mouth.
"No—"
"Yes, Mom."
Emma turned her head.
Nathan gave her the smallest look.
She understood immediately.
Helen was still unstable. There was no point upsetting her over something so harmless.
So Emma smiled and went along with it.
She assumed that was the end of the story.
A few days later, Nathan's assistant called.
Mr. Grant wanted to know whether Emma would be willing to continue pretending to be his girlfriend when she visited Helen.
Compensation was negotiable.
Emma had needed approximately three seconds to become interested.
Pretending to be in love with a rich man for money?
Finally.
A job she was actually qualified for.
Nathan had offered her two arrangements.
She could work month to month for a lower rate, or commit to one day a week for an entire year at $50,000 a month.
Emma had done the math exactly once.
She signed the annual contract.
Nathan wanted consistency. Back then, Helen's condition still fluctuated, and he didn't want someone becoming part of his mother's routine only to disappear a month later.
Emma understood.
More importantly, she understood $600,000.
For nearly a year, she had shown up once a week.
Helen was happy.
Nathan got stability.
Emma got paid.
It was one of the healthiest working relationships she'd ever had.
And now the contract was almost over.
Once everything was settled, Emma would finally have the kind of savings she'd spent years working toward.
That was one of the biggest reasons she had already made up her mind about life after graduation.
She wanted to go home.
Back to Hollow Creek.
Back to Grandma Margaret.
She didn't need an expensive car or a luxury apartment. What she wanted was enough financial security to stop chasing every possible paycheck and spend some real time with the person who had raised her.
For once, she wanted time.
Emma wasn't worried about Nathan refusing to pay her.
She knew exactly what kind of family he came from and exactly how much influence he held. Six hundred thousand dollars wasn't enough money for a man like Nathan Grant to risk breaking a contract over.
Besides, Emma trusted signed paperwork far more than she trusted people.
Helen squeezed her hands.
"I have something to show you."
"Oh?"
"A really good thing."
Emma laughed. "Okay. Show me."
Helen immediately started pulling her away.
Emma had figured something out months ago.
Nathan might be the one who signed her checks, but he wasn't really her client.
Helen was.
Apparently, Helen had become attached to the character Emma had played during that first charity performance—a glamorous, spoiled young heiress with perfect hair, expensive-looking dresses, and an attitude to match.
So Emma made an effort whenever she visited.
Dress.
Heels.
Hair.
Makeup.
Helen liked glamorous Emma.
Glamorous Emma was what she got.
Professional standards mattered.
"Come on!" Helen urged. "I'll show you."
"I'm coming."
Helen linked their arms and led her toward the far side of the rooftop garden.
Nathan watched them go.
"Where are you two going?"
Helen stopped and looked back at him.
"It's a secret."
Nathan raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not allowed to know?"
"No. It's between me and Emma."
"All right."
Helen seemed satisfied with that answer and promptly walked away with Emma without another glance at her own son.
Anyone watching them might have assumed Emma was Helen's daughter and Nathan was the visitor.
Nathan appeared entirely accustomed to this treatment.
His assistant approached after the two women disappeared around the corner.
"I'll have someone stay close."
Nathan sat down in one of the chairs overlooking the garden.
"Make sure she doesn't overdo it."
His assistant nodded.
Whenever Emma and Helen were alone, someone from Nathan's security team stayed at a discreet distance.
Part of that was simply practical. Helen had been stable for months, but Nathan wasn't willing to gamble with her safety.
The other reason had much more to do with Emma.
Nathan hadn't trusted her.
Not at first.
A beautiful college student had appeared out of nowhere, rushed toward his mother during a dangerous episode, and somehow become the one person Helen immediately adored.
Then she'd agreed to play his girlfriend for money.
Nathan didn't believe in convenient coincidences.
He'd investigated Emma thoroughly.
When that turned up nothing, he'd kept watching.
Nearly a year later, he still had nothing to show for it.
No hidden connection. No carefully planned encounter. No one behind her.
Apparently, Emma Carter really had jumped off that stage because she'd seen someone hurting herself and wanted to help.
Nathan still found that almost annoyingly simple.
His assistant checked a message on his phone.
"Everything's fine. Mrs. Grant is in a good mood."
Nathan leaned back.
"When isn't she, when Emma's here?"
His assistant smiled.
"Fair point."
He'd been suspicious of Emma in the beginning too.
These days, he rather liked her.
Not romantically.
Emma was simply difficult not to appreciate once you understood how she operated.
His boss was rich, unmarried, in his thirties, and powerful enough that women had been trying to get close to him for years. More than one had decided his mother was the easiest route.
They brought Helen gifts.
Remembered what she liked.
Sat patiently beside her whenever Nathan was around.
The problem was what happened when they thought he wasn't.
Patience disappeared surprisingly quickly when there was no wealthy man watching.
Emma had never changed.
Whether Nathan was ten feet away or nowhere in sight, she treated Helen exactly the same.
She took the money and did the job.
No shortcuts.
No complaints.
No attempts to squeeze anything extra out of the arrangement.
And Helen adored her.
The funny thing was, Emma could have taken advantage of that easily.
All she had to do was casually mention a handbag she liked or somewhere she'd always wanted to travel. Helen would probably remember it and ask Nathan to buy it for her.
Nathan could certainly afford it.
Emma had never tried.
She hadn't tried anything with Nathan either.
That had probably surprised his assistant most of all.
Emma was beautiful, Nathan was wealthy and single, and she already had a perfectly legitimate reason to spend time around him.
For a lot of people, that would have looked like an opportunity.
For Emma, apparently, it looked like a contract.
The contract said $600,000.
She wanted $600,000.
Anything beyond that was apparently unnecessary overtime.
His assistant almost laughed at the thought.
Instead, he looked toward the path where Emma and Helen had disappeared.
"Next week will make a full year."
Nathan's eyes shifted toward him.
"Yes."
"Ms. Carter's contract ends after that visit."
Nathan was quiet.
His assistant waited a moment before asking,
"Do you want to renew it?"