Chapter Eight—Blake
Raul looks nervous as he sits in front of me, his eyes darting back and forth, like he fears he might be caught out at any moment. I lean forward, lowering my voice pointedly.
"Tell me what you saw," I order him.
I’m visiting the restaurant that Sophia is working at, catching up with some of the staff about what has been going on and how she’s been settling in. By the sounds of it, she’s making quick time of making herself indispensable. In fact, I wouldn’t have bothered sticking around as long as I had if Raul hadn’t dropped a casual comment about seeing her hanging around in the office when I last came in to visit.
"You know, it’s probably nothing," Raul tells me, waving a hand. "She’s only just started work here, she probably wandered into the wrong place and—"
"Tell me." My voice is cold, leaving no room for argument. His face pales slightly, and he finally cuts to the chase.
"I saw her with your lockbox," he admits. "The one you brought in for us to... cycle through the restaurant."
Shit.
I should have known someone like her wasn’t going to take my word for anything. She’s too curious for her own good. And that stupid comment Patricio dropped about me hiring her must have been enough to pique her interest and get her to come looking for answers.
"The one with your initials on it," he adds.
"I know," I snap back. "Did she see anything else? Or ask you about anything?”
"She’s brought it up a couple of times," he confesses. "Asking about who runs this place, stuff like that. But nobody has told her anything she can go on. She’ll probably drop it..."
I rise to my feet.
"Thanks for your help."
"She’s not going to get in trouble, is she?" Raul asks, concerned. Sophia seems to bring that out in people, that protectiveness. Every world I’ve seen her a part of, she hasn’t quite belonged there.
I don’t reply as I check my watch. I head outside instead. I know she’s due to arrive at work any minute now, and I want to intercept her. If she’s on to me, if she’s started to piece together everything that’s going on, then I need to get out in front of it and ensure she doesn’t do anything stupid. Like try to quit.
I’m leaning outside the back of the restaurant when she turns up. When she sees me there, she freezes on the spot, her eyes widening slightly.
"Blake?" she whispers. "What are… what are you doing here?"
"We need to talk."
"Now? I have my shift—"
"Now."
She knows better than to argue with me. She wraps her arms around herself and stares at me expectantly.
"Okay, what’s going on?"
"I heard you’ve been doing some snooping," I remark, taking a step toward her. "Is that true?"
She bites down on her lip. I’m giving her the chance to come clean with me, but I’m not sure she’ll take it.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about."
Defiant. That’s what I liked about her when we first met, that she stood up to me and talked back to me in a way nobody else did. But now, it’s a frustration. I don’t want to have to put up with this right now. She needs to back the hell off before she lands herself in more trouble than she knows what to do with.
"Really? Because Raul said he saw you looking around the office. And you’d have no reason to be there if you weren’t trying to find something out, would you?”
She lifts her chin, her gaze meeting mine at last.
"So what if I was?" she demands. "I just want to know who I’m working for. And why they hired me so quickly."
"You don’t think it’s just because you’re good at what you do?"
She cocks her head to the side.
"I know there’s something going on here, Blake. I’ve been... I think I’ve known it since I first started working here. But I just haven’t been able to admit it to myself, until I saw that lockbox with your initials on it in the office."
The words hang in the air between us. I know she’s daring me to deny it. But if she wants to play this game, if she wants to stop being ignorant of all of this, then she can play it.
I just don’t know if she’s ready for what exactly that might entail.
I take a step toward her. She doesn’t move, her eyes challenging as she gazes back at me.
"You really think you can handle this?" I ask her softly. Last chance to back out. She nods.
"I need to know what I’m involved with here," she breathes. We’re standing so close to each other that I can feel the breath brushing out of her lips. Her mouth is slightly parted as she waits for me to give her what she’s been looking for.
"All you need to know is that there are parts of my family business that you have no business sticking your fucking nose into," I growl at her. Her eyes widen, her body stiffening at the harshness of my words.
"Blake, I—"
"And you’d do well to remember that I got your ass out of a mess," I add, cutting her off, hitting my pace. I know this is harsh, but she has to hear it from me. She can’t come at me this way, like she’s owed the truth, when I know she wouldn’t be able to handle it.
Or maybe I wouldn’t be able to handle the way she looked at me if she knew.
"So you just keep your head down and get on with your work and stop trying to cause trouble," I finish up. Her face has paled slightly, and her eyes are wide.
"Blake," she murmurs. She reaches for my hand, almost, it seems, without thinking, but then drops her fingers back by her side. "I... I need to know what’s going on here. Please. I’m not going to judge you. I just want to know what you’ve gotten me involved with."
I meet her gaze steadily. For a moment, I think about spilling it all to her. I can feel the words on the tip of my tongue. I feel like I want to tell her everything—about my father’s empire, the business I’ve stepped up to take over, the stress and tension and fear that throbs at the heart of everything I do as I struggle with the thought of letting him down, knowing that my family’s expectations rest on my back and that if I don’t pull this off, then everything falls apart.
But, instead, I stiffen.
"You don’t need to know a damn thing," I snarl at her. "You just need to do your job and keep out of my family’s business. You hear me?"
She clenches her jaw slightly. There she is again, the girl I met on that first night. The one who’s going to stand up to me and fight me and refuse to let me roll over her.
"You think you can just own me because I owe you?" she fires back, her voice dropping slightly. "That’s not how this works, Blake. And if you have to find out the hard way..." She shrugs. "Then you have to find out the hard way."
"Are you threatening me?" I demand. Her eyes blaze at me.
"I have a shift to get to," she replies, and she turns on her heel and stalks inside the restaurant. I watch her as she goes, the swing of her hips in her jeans enough to make my head spin. All that tension in the air between us and I haven’t even touched her yet. Fuck, it’s enough to screw me up completely.
I rub a hand over my face and storm back toward my car. I’ve never let a girl get under my skin like this before. And I’m sure as hell not going to start now. She might think she’s the one calling the shots here, but she doesn’t have a damn clue.