Chapter 33
Emily: I really like her.
Chase: Me too, kid.
Emily: Don’t fuck this one up, will you?
Chase: Your confidence is heartwarming.
CHASE
“Why won’t you let Landau prep you?”
I use the edge of my fist to staple together the papers in my hand, moving them to one side and beginning to gather up the next set.
“I’m not testifying, I don’t need to be prepped.” Pepper rolls her eyes, leans back in the chair opposite my desk, and stares up at the ceiling.
“That’s not the only reason lawyers prep their clients, it’s so that you can understand what to expect from the proceedings.”
Her head drops down, irritation sweeping her features. “Fine, but can we drop it now?”
I fight back a smile. She’s so damn stubborn I want to shake her, but I find it endearing at the same time. If Pepper was an animal, she would be a bull. Nostrils flaring and hoof stomping the ground.
“Yes.” I turn in my seat, reaching over to slide open a low desk drawer and pulling out an embossed invitation. “If you agree to go with me to this.”
The glossy card slips across the desk and she leans over to read it. “As in, in front of cameras?”
“Is that a problem?” Something uneasy prickles in my gut. My life and family are intrinsically linked to the spotlight, and not everyone wants to be a part of that, which is understandable. I send out a Hail Mary prayer and wait, cataloguing the light scrunch to her nose.
“Can we skip the red-carpet part?” She blinks up at me and I try not to show the tidal wave of relief that whisks me underwater.
“Definitely.” I snap up whatever small morsel she’s willing to give like the sad little puppy I am.
“Then I’ll come, but I have nothing to wear that is fancy enough for a shtick like this.” She crosses her arms and looks thunderous.
“I’ll handle that.” I cast my hand through the air as if to waft that problem away.
Like she thought I was some asshole who would ever make her spend her own money.
I have enough for the both of us. “But what the hell is with you today? You’ve been a downright storm cloud since you got here. If this is about what Mr. Clay—”
“No! God, no. I just…” She groans, slamming her hands over her face so hard it must hurt and tilting back in her seat again. “I’m two days late, and no, I’m not pregnant, I’m just overdue and cranky.”
Ah, this is beginning to make more sense.
“If you come over here, I can help start it for you.” I lean back in my chair—the soft leather groaning—and watch as her stunned face appears from behind her hands. My dick twitches in my pants, running down a neat little track to an image of what that might entail.
A crack forms in her hard veneer, only for a brief moment, but I spot it. The quiver of her lip and the glint in her eye, both things fighting to free her from her grizzly demeanor. “You are awful.”
“Thank you.” I offer her a knowing grin, noting the way her thighs squeeze together. “The offer is there if you need it.”
“I’m not a ketchup bottle that needs a smack on the bottom, thanks.”
That’s an…interesting analogy. Little Miss Stubborn isn’t in the mood to play today. Or at least, she’s not willing to admit it if she is. I pull my phone out of my pocket and make a note on today’s date in my schedule.
“What are you doing?”
“Marking my calendar so I know what time of the month I need to throw chocolate through the bars of your cage.”
She snorts in a way that is admirably unladylike, and my lips twitch. Instead of addressing the copper flush appearing on her cheeks, I busy myself with collecting the forgotten papers and shuffling them back into a neat pile. Except, when I reach for the stapler, it’s nowhere to be seen.
Pens. My phone. A lamp. The glossy invitation and a blank-screened tablet.
Everything except the item I’m looking for.
And what’s more, this isn’t the first time this has happened.
Perhaps I’m the one with early onset dementia and this is the first sign.
Oh, and also falling for the crazy-hot chick with pink hair who hacked me and loves to make my life difficult.
That has to be a sign that my brain matter is shrinking.
“Have you seen my stapler?” I point stupidly at the last place I saw it.
She reluctantly drags her attention away from her nails. “Hmm?”
“My stapler. It was just there and now it’s not.”
“How am I supposed to know?” She sighs, rising from her seat with a bored air. “Since we’re apparently not doing any work, I’m going home to rot on the couch in peace.”
She punches her arm through her tote bag straps, the sound of metal clacking together reaching from its depths.
“Wait, what are your plans tonight?” I twist the corner of another stick of papers momentarily, thinking that I might have buried it by accident. “I thought you could stay with me, as Sunny isn’t at home for a couple of nights.”
We haven’t slept in the same bed since the Hamptons, owing to Pepper’s rule about not letting this thing between us invade Sunny’s safe space. As much as I’d love to fall into bed beside her after a hard day’s work, I respect her boundaries, even if I do miss waking up wrapped around her soft skin.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea on account of the storm brewing here.” She swirls her finger around the general area of her lower abdomen.
I life one eyebrow. “You think I give a shit about a little blood, Peppercorn?”
She flushes from her pearlescent pink hairline where the beginnings of a dark root creep in, all the way to the hem of her white T-shirt.
“What if it gets on your sheets?”
“Then they’ll be washed.” I fold my hands calmly in my lap and wait for her next excuse.
“And what if it gets on you?”
“Showers exist.”
She nibbles the inside of her lip for a moment. “I’ll be over at seven.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven,” I correct softly as she turns and strides away from me in a seductive swish of curvy hips.
I sigh and pitch upright, covering the space to catch up with Pepper in just enough time that I can reach around her and open the door for her.
“I have arms.” Her eyebrows form a thick bridge above her nose. Yikes.
“Me too, aren’t they fun?” I place one of them behind her back and guide her through the doorway, hearing her grumble something too quietly for me to make out.
“Ah, good!” A male voice I don’t recognize draws my attention to Tessa’s desk, where the old woman scowls at a guy dressed in chinos and a quarter-zip jumper. I feel Pepper freeze as the man with floppy brown hair strides toward me with his hand stuck out. “Jeremy Rénir, pleasure to meet you.”
My brain zips to a muddled memory of this man’s name being spoken before…
by Zeke on the phone in my office that day.
My focus zeros in on Pepper, who is staring wide-eyed at the man, her face taking on a distinct green tinge.
Plush lips part and air rushes out and back in at breakneck speed, her wide eyes leaping to mine.
All it takes is one split second for me to know that something is very, very fucking wrong. I bristle instantly, drawing myself up to full height and sweeping her out of sight behind me.
“You need to leave right fucking now.”
Tessa flinches out of the corner of my eye at the arctic chill to my tone. The guy pauses, clearly not expecting my unwelcoming greeting.
“There must be some misunderstanding.” He lets out a snotty little chuckle, using his proffered hand to sweep the hair off his face instead. “I’m from—”
I feel Pepper’s figure trembling violently at my back and hear her staccato little gasps as she fights for breath.
“I don’t give a fuck who you are, or where you’re from. Get the fuck out of my building, before I drag you out.” I send a sharp glance Tessa’s way, heat slapping the back of my neck. “Call security and tell them it’s urgent.”
She nods without a sarcastic eyebrow or a smart word in sight, rushing to fulfil my order.
“Look…” The guy scoffs, a gaudy gold pinky ring flashing in the sunlight pouring in from the wide windows. “There is no need—”
My brain whirs, every possibility flashing before my eyes like an old-fashioned rolodex. Surely it can’t be…no, that would be insanity. But then who the fuck would this person be to Pepper to make her react this way?
“You don’t get another warning,” I cut across him, pointing to the bank of elevators along the hall—the ones that ding open and four beefy security guards pour out of.
The man’s shit-colored eyes slide their way, and for the first time I see past the coiffed arrogance he outwardly presents to the entitlement that curls his upper lip.
I brace myself for a fight, every muscle in my body locking into place, but nothing happens.
Whatever brief lapse in control flashed across his mousey features is lost, replaced by a manufactured indifference.
He glances down to the space where Pepper’s hides behind me and then turns without another word, striding right past the security team and into the elevator bank.
I wait until the doors are fully closed before I dismiss the guards and turn to Pepper.
The untethered version of her I find there tears something in my chest. I reach for her instinctively, but she flinches, lungs heaving and face pale. The unadulterated fear she shows in her mahogany eyes takes my breath away, akin to a wounded animal.
“It’s me.” I reach a hand slowly to her again.
Her plump bottom lip wobbles and the dam breaks, great heaving sobs tearing from her, leaving her struggling to keep air down. She collapses into me and I scoop her up against my chest, heading for the privacy of my office.
“Cancel my day,” I throw over my shoulder at Tessa, kicking the door open and couriering Pepper inside.
Placing her onto the long couch on one side of the room, I get onto my knees in front of her so that we’re nose to nose. Her hair sticks to her face, and she tries to hide it from me in her hands before I capture them and stop her.
“You’re safe, Pepper. Look at me.”