CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EMILY
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H ow appropriate Sebastian ordered me a red dress. I feel like a scarlet woman. At least when I look in the mirror.
It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have asked him the question. What did I think was going to happen? That he’d confess he was falling in love with me.
His eyes showed something...I’m not imagining it.
Clearly I am.
Surely other women you’ve dated, or are dating, would’ve been a better fit than me.
His expression had darkened.
I do not fuck multiple women, and that includes you and this fake engagement. Nor am I interested in getting married.
His harsh words were a stark contrast to the man who’d scattered kisses along my neck and caressed my body for way too long in the shower this morning, almost making us late.
Well, you play the part well.
I couldn’t help my snarky response, and I don’t regret it.
Fortunately, it has been a busy day in the office, and when the dress arrived midafternoon, I sent him a text to say I was leaving. There was no way I was going into his office to speak to him. God, I could barely look at him. The rejection was still too sharp. Rejection I had no right feeling.
Because, as Sebastian kindly pointed out, our relationship is fake.
My orgasms aren’t fake...neither are his.
I also don’t believe Sebastian kisses every woman the way he does me.
Or I’m delusional.
Either way, it’s time to face the music. I’m all primed and polished, ready for the gala.
Josh opens the door, and I climb out of the vehicle, arranging my skirt.
“Emily,” Josh says, and I glance up at him. “If...fuck this is completely inappropriate, but I’m going to say it, anyway. If Mr. Remington doesn’t tell you tonight, you look stunning.”
My cheeks heat. “You heard us this morning.”
Josh nods. “Listen, I’m married and...fuck, it’s none of my business, but you look incredible and sometimes the man who...we don’t say it.”
I know there’s a message in there somewhere, I’m just not sure what it is. But I take the compliment and as I go to smile at Josh, suddenly I’m overwhelmed and throw myself at his chest.
Josh lets out an oomph and holds me like I’m his kid sister, while I take in the padded vest he’s wearing under his shirt.
Wow .
I’m a million miles from home and should have protected my heart, but I didn’t.
“Sorry.” I release him and wipe the tear that threatens to slide down my cheek. “This entire situation is weird.”
“It kind of is.” Josh pats my head. “Come on.”
We walk to the elevator and it opens. Josh presses the button and stands in front of it. For some reason, because we’re not facing one another, I feel confident asking a question I know I shouldn’t.
“Josh, do you think Sebastian has feelings for me, or am I being an idiot?”
He’s quiet for a long moment as my heart thuds loudly in my chest. Why did I ask? Ugh. I need to stop asking dumb questions today.
Josh glances over his shoulder, meets me in the eye, and then the Navy SEAL gives one sharp nod. “Yeah. I do.”
Hope blossoms in my chest.
“Don’t repeat that.”
“I won’t.” I smile to myself.
“Good, because I’d hate to tell him about today.” I hear and gasp.
Today...so...it all started when I went to grab Terri for lunch.
“I can’t leave. Victor is on a rampage today. He yelled twice and accused me of making a very big error. It was not my fault. I swear to God, he emailed me the directions.” Terri hissed, looking completely stressed.
I blinked, watching her lean close to her computer screen.
“Watch the door. I’m not supposed to read his emails, but the IT guys fucked up when they loaded his calendar on my system.”
I glanced over my shoulder.
Terri really shouldn’t be looking at them and as Sebastian’s PA, I should be calling her out on it. But something stops me.
“If I can just find the email...that...he...” I watched Terri as her eyes narrowed. “Holy hell.”
“What?” I dart around her desk and we both read the email she opened.
“Woah.” Terri sat back, and we stared at one another. “What do we do?”
I glanced back at the email to Gordon Fanning—a name we all know is associated with the protesters. He’s all over the news right now.
“We have to tell Sebastian,” I said, waving my hand. “Print it out.”
Terri shook her head. “No. Emily I can’t. If I’m caught going through his emails, they could pin it on me, and I’d lose my job.”
Would she really?
Surely he’d believe us.
“Please. I can’t. I pay for my mom’s medication that’s keeping her alive.”
Holy cow, that was too great a risk. I understood her fear. All I was worried about was my dad’s judgment, and while it hurt, it was quite different from knowing one of my parents would die.
“Okay, okay,” I replied, thinking and pacing the floor.
Then an idea hit me.
“Print it out.” I told her. “I won’t show anyone. I just need a copy.”
Yesterday I would have said Sebastian would protect her, and we can trust him, but after this morning, the way he turned all Jekyll and Hyde on me, I realized the only side he was on was his.
It didn’t change my feelings for him, but I wasn’t going to risk Terri’s mom’s life.
I hugged her and told her everything would be okay. “I need to get something to eat and then back to work. We can deal with this tomorrow after the gala, okay?”
I left her biting her nail and waved to Josh as I headed to the elevator. An idea was brewing in my mind as I held the tightly folded copy of the email.
“We need to talk,” I said to Josh.
“What’s up?” He turned.
“I need to visit the protesters today. You can take the ring if you’d like, and I’ll race back after.”
“Not a good idea.” Josh shook his head.
I needed proof, which would protect Terri at the very least, and this was the only thing I could come up with.
Victor was sabotaging Sebastian’s project, and we had to prove it.
“Not happening. I’ll come with you,” Josh said, and I got the feeling he was not just protecting the ring. “I’ll take you in, so follow my instructions to the letter.”
When we arrived, I spotted Gordon immediately and pointed him out to Josh.
“This way,” he said, moving us through the crowd.
“Hi,” I called out to get the man’s attention when we got close. “Gordon Fanning? Can I speak with you?”
“Sure. What media outlet are you with?”
Oh.
Um.
I glanced at Josh, who was in a Black Hawke Security jacket and dark sunglasses, looking every bit the high-level security he was.
I tugged out my phone and considered what I had to work with.
My accent.
“Emily from the BBC. I wondered if you could answer some questions for me.”
“BBC? Why are they interested in a New York protest?”
Good point.
A very good point.
“Well, we’ve been following your protests, and you seem to have information about the Crown Plaza development not yet released.”
“I can’t talk about that.” Gordon turned away.
“This. We have a leaked document that shows you were contacted by Victor Sanderson.” I unfolded the email and Gordon glanced down, then back up to me.
“And...” He crossed his arms.
“Well, he’s a senior member of the Remington management team. It’s corporate sabotage.”
Narrowed eyes watched me. “You’re not from the BBC, are you?”
My mouth snapped closed.
“What did you say your name was?”
“Please. Did you get this email?” I pressed, pushing the email closer. “That’s all I need to know.”
Gordon sighed, took it out of my hand and read it. Then he lifted his eyes to mine. “Yes.”
“Now, tell me who you are?”
“Emily,” Josh said, moving closer and taking my arm.
“Someone who is trying to help.” I smiled and was whisked away.
When Josh opened the door of the vehicle and climbed in the back with me, he asked, “You really do like playing with fire, don’t you?”
I chewed the side of my mouth.
“Sebastian needs to know, and Terri can’t lose her job.”
Josh shook his head. “I think we all underestimated you, Emily.”
Or I’m about to royally fuck this all up. I left before I had a chance to tell Sebastian—or rather, I still don’t know how to tell him and figure tomorrow after the gala is the best time.
Tonight, he will be focused on the sheikh.
“Do not tell him about today, Josh. Please,” I say firmly.
He does the silent mouth zip movement just as the elevator pings open and I come face-to-face with my fiancé.
Holy fuck. I swallow, taking in how devastatingly gorgeous he looks in a tuxedo and remind myself that he’s not my fiancé.
“Emily,” Sebastian drawls.