Chapter 4
My first few days at work were dull, consisting of mundane tasks like training and setting up my office. The exciting part was exploring the city during my lunch breaks and after work. Bridgeville was massive compared to the small town of Treemont. Skyscrapers towered to the clouds, people bustled on every street, and cars beeped and idled at stoplights. But I’d discovered that a few blocks from the main part of the city, a transition began that led to regal homes, people walking their dogs, and children playing. The dichotomy was striking.
My studio apartment made me feel suffocated every time I returned to it. I missed the sprawling lawns of my brother’s home, the horses in the fields, the farmers tending their crops. And I missed my brother, Mason. I’d been cold to him in the months I was planning my escape, knowing that escape was from him and the life of lies he’d built for me. Finding out his money hadn’t come from the real estate business he owned, that he ran a mafia-like business, one that involved guns and violence and everything else my stunned mind didn’t want to admit. I wanted to be as far from him as possible. I’d been blind, na?ve, purposely fed lies to keep me safe. Or at least that’s what he told me it was all for.
I’d always wondered why he kept me close, insisting I live nearby and stay in Treemont. I’d never questioned the men who walked the grounds of his large estate, ones he had insisted couldn’t touch me…until one did.
“Shit,” I grumbled as my key slipped, my finger jamming on the doorknob. I needed to focus. It had been a long day, and I’d grabbed some takeout on the way home. A few days before, someone had bought all my furniture, offering me so much for it I couldn’t argue when she insisted on everything but my bed. It was enough for me to buy new furniture and more. A moving service had picked it up yesterday, handing me an envelope of cash, then driving away with what remained of my old life.
I was looking forward to spending the cash on a shopping trip now that the weekend was here, but for now, I just wanted to sit on my bed and eat the fries in my hand. Finally getting the key to cooperate, I threw open my door and gasped, my jaw dropping to the floor. The bare apartment was decorated as if the finest interior decorator had spent months perfecting it. A loveseat of plush green and a small round table with two chairs lined with that same green sat where the small kitchen was. There was a rug with hints of the same green in it, the design reminding me of the fields of wheat at home.
A thick fluffy gray comforter was on my bed, decorative pillows with white peonies and red petals scattered atop it. Even the walls now held pictures that were reminders of home, as if someone knew the intimate details of my likes and dislikes. A bookshelf lined the wall across from my bed, and my eyes took in the dark romance titles that currently filled my e-reader.
“Holy fuck,” I mumbled, walking in and dropping my food on the mahogany table.
I wandered around the apartment, trying to understand how this had happened until fear gripped me. Had he found me? My heart raced, and I backed up, knocking into a chair and grasping the back of it to steady myself. I was trying not to hyperventilate, panic seizing me as my eyes looked around wildly, landing on a note propped against the new backsplash on my counter. With hesitation, I moved my feet and grabbed the note. My hands were shaking, my mind trying to work out how I could run again. Where I could go without a job, without preparation, like I’d had before. It had been so much work, knowing Mason tracked everything I did. He was even tracking my phone until I’d bought a new one without telling him, continuing to use the original one so he wouldn’t know. It was deceptive, and I’d felt bad until I thought of all the deception he’d given me over the years.
Calming my hands, I opened the note.
Welcome to the company. You should live like you work for me.
—Greyson Tides
My shaking stopped, and my mouth gaped. Greyson Tides, the mysterious mogul I’d yet to meet. He was elusive from everything I’d heard, so why did he care if I had nice things in my apartment? My intrigue about him grew as I looked around, completely bewildered.
Sitting in the chair, I tried to catch my breath now that I knew my life wasn’t being upended again. That Mason hadn’t found me. That he hadn’t found me. The pressure of it all, the way the fear had squeezed my lungs until they’d been devoid of air, the emptiness that filled the rest of me when the fear wasn’t overwhelming me, hit me like a thousand bricks landing on my shoulders and I collapsed from the weight. Tears fell. Ones I’d been holding at bay since the moment I’d decided to run from the truth, from the world Mason had hidden me in, from the man who had opened my eyes to it. I cried for everything I’d lost and everything I missed. I cried for the gesture of kindness from a man I didn’t even know, one whose action helped to assuage the pain men had been causing me lately.
When the tears stopped, I left my soggy fries and curled into the soft, welcoming bed, wanting the day to end and wishing I could go back to the life I’d left, knowing I never could. Doing so would only bring me more pain.
The next morning,I familiarized myself with my newly decorated apartment. There was nothing I could find that I didn’t love about it. From the tiniest detailed flowers that were stenciled onto the cream paint to the fairy lights that surrounded the bed. As I nibbled on a chocolate chip muffin I’d found in my stocked cabinets—full of my favorite snacks—there was a knock on the door.
I froze, my hand lingering mid-air with a chunk of muffin. What if it was Greyson Tides? And why did that thought send tingles through my body? I didn’t even know what the man looked like or anything about him, yet even the thought of him excited me.
“Shit, Riley. Don’t be stupid. He’s probably some old balding man with a potbelly and grandkids,” I muttered.
Opening the door, I found Ava looking back at me and not the hunky version of Greyson Tides I was trying to convince myself didn’t exist.
“Holy shit! Who do I have to blow to get this in my apartment?”
I crossed my arms, not sure how I felt about someone I didn’t even know assuming I’d dropped to my knees for some sugar daddy.
“Oh, sorry. Not implying you did that,” she said, holding her hands up.
“Thank you, because I didn’t.” Although the thought of dropping to my knees and having Greyson Tides as my sugar daddy didn’t make me as uncomfortable as it should have. Old man with grandkids, Riley, I reminded myself, pushing the image from my head.
“What happened to your plethora of furniture?” Ava asked, looking around.
“I sold it. I was planning to shop for new stuff today but…” How did I explain the generous offer that seemed to hold its own implications now that I had to say it out loud? I didn’t think redecorating apartments came without a cost, nor that it was something normal for new employees. I was sure Ken didn’t get the same perk when he joined the firm. The thought should have left me unnerved, but anticipation shivered through me instead.
“But?” she asked, taking in my new digs.
“It was part of my sign-on bonus at the firm.”
“Damn. What firm is that and how do I get a job there?” She sat at the table, her ripped jeans exposing her entire kneecap. Today she had a streak of pink going through her blonde curls, which she’d tied in two ponytails. She wore a long-sleeved black shirt with the words ‘suck it or f*ck it’ on the front.
I could only imagine Mason’s reaction to her. He was so in control, so particular about his image and the brands he wore. Ava was nothing like anyone he would have let me hang out with. He’d always vetted my friends, steering me toward the more elite ones. I rebelled with the men I dated, which drove him crazy, and now that I knew who he really was, I understood why they always left and broke my heart. It wasn’t until the last one that I’d been smart enough to hide it from him. But it was the last one who had shattered me completely and left Mason falsely assured that I would never rebel again.
“I’m a financial planner,” I told Ava. “I work in the Tides Building on 22nd.” After my first day, I discovered that the building had a name, and I was the only one in the city who didn’t know who owned it.
“You work for Greyson Tides?” Her eyes had gone wide, and she said his name in a hush.
“I suppose you could say that. I’ve never met him, but he owns the firm and apparently the building,” I said with a shrug.
“And everything else in the city.”
“Do you know him?”
Her laugh was loud and accompanied by a snort. “I don’t hang with that crowd. Although I’m not sure he has a crowd. He’s pretty aloof, keeps to himself. I’ve never seen him.”
“Huh.” My infatuation with a man I’d never met was growing, and I didn’t know what to make of it.
“I don’t have to go into work until six tonight. I’m procrastinating and looking for an excuse to get out. Got any plans?”
I gave her a smile. “Nope, just a lot of cash to spend from selling my furniture and a need to spend it. Is there shopping in town?”
“Is there ever,” she said, her eyes bright with excitement. “Come on, I’ll help you spend that money.”
She didn’t give me time to say no, hopping up and telling me to be ready in twenty minutes. Sighing, I took a quick shower and dressed. Since I hadn’t bothered washing my hair, I was trying to get it to do anything cute when Ava returned.
“Here,” she said, dropping her purse and snatching my brush from my hand.
After rummaging through my bathroom, she returned with some bobby pins and proceeded to pile my hair up so that I looked like I’d spent an hour getting it styled. I peered at it in the mirror, wondering why it never looked that cute when I fixed it.
“I did a stint at a hair salon before I decided to go to grad school,” she admitted with a shrug. “I learned a few tricks while I was answering the phone and sweeping up.”
“I’d say you learned a lot of tricks. This is fantastic. Can you do my hair every morning?”
With a laugh, she handed me my coat and headed for the door. “I’ll give you a few pointers,” she said as we headed out of the building.
We chatted as we made our way uptown to the shopping district. Bridgeville was an enormous city, divided into districts. There was the financial or business district where I worked, the shopping district, which was home to boutique stores and name brand stores that catered to the more affluent shoppers, and a food district where local bars and eateries lined the streets. There were, of course, exceptions, like my coffee shop and small shops and restaurants that were more geared to the locals. As Ava and I hopped from store to store, my hands filling increasingly with bags, I got to know her better, discovering that bartending was a side gig to help with books and supplies she needed for school. After graduating with a degree in art history, she’d taken four years off to travel and work before pursuing her graduate degree.
“Does bartending pay enough to cover tuition?” I asked, chomping on a hotdog from a street vendor.
“No,” she said, moving a napkin just in time to catch the mustard that fell from it. I gave her a smile through my chews. “My uncle lives here, and he offered to pay for school if I came to Bridgeville.”
“That’s really nice. Do you get to see him often?”
“Nah, he works all the time. He’s far up in the company he works for, so I rarely see him.” She wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve, laughing when she caught my grimace. “I know, that’s not very ladylike.”
“No, it’s not,” I said, joining her laugh.
“So what made you move to Bridgeville?” she asked, tossing the end of her hot dog into a trash can.
I froze. Every time I answered that question, it brought back memories and emotions that I couldn’t seem to bury. Swallowing, I replied, “Looking for a change of pace. Treemont is rural and boring. I wanted to try something new.” I stared at the remains of my lunch, my appetite lost.
“Did you grow up there?” she asked.
“Yeah, I was born there. It’s pretty, but not as exciting as it is here.” I was more than ready for a change in conversation. Following her lead, I dropped the rest of my hot dog in the trash and said, “And the shopping here is far better. Ready to hit a few more stores? With your help, my wardrobe is filling up.”
Her brown eyes evaluated me for a moment before she shrugged and said, “Ready as I’ll ever be. Spending someone else’s money is fun.”
We spent the rest of the day weighing my arms down with more bags until we were both too exhausted to walk any further and I had enough new clothes for my wardrobe to complete my efforts to rid myself of my old life. It was one more step in distancing myself from Treemont, Mason, and the past that I couldn’t seem to shake.