18. Garrett
Chapter Eighteen
GARRETT
H e spent the entire drive to the office planning Emma’s move to one of the downstairs apartments. As soon as he got upstairs, he’d call the building concierge to arrange it.
“Christian Grey,” he muttered, stomping his way through the parking garage. “I’ll give her Christian Grey.”
An image of Emma tied to his bed flickered through his mind and he swallowed, pausing with his finger over the elevator button.
Yeah, don’t go there.
Except his uncooperative brain insisted on painting that picture in graphic detail, adding the memory of Emma in the towel just to torture him.
That toasted almond skin wasn’t a tan. No, it was too even, her upper arms the same shade as the tops of her breasts and lower thighs. He made a mental note to buy bigger towels. For the sake of his sanity.
Damn . He wasn’t going to call the concierge, was he?
Fletcher didn’t take the news of his current living situation well. “You moved her into your apartment? Are you crazy ?”
“It’s a good deed, Fletch,” he said, dropping into his leather chair with a grunt. “Ever heard of one? ”
“This is exactly what Celeste warned you about.” His partner buried his face in his hands. “This is wrong on so many levels, I can’t even count them. She is your employee .”
He straightened the pens on his blotter, not meeting Fletcher’s eyes. “She works for De Olla .”
“Which means she works for you because you accepted a seat on their board!”
“It’s an advisory position,” he stressed. “It’s not as if I’m her actual supervisor.”
Fletcher’s sarcastic laugh had never grated on his nerves more. “No. You’re just her boss’ boss.”
“Only on paper. In practice, I’m a world away from being her employer.”
“We’re not talking about hypotheticals here,” his partner scoffed. “On paper is all we care about. Unless you plan on talking her into quitting.”
Fletcher drummed his fingers on his knee. “Yeah, that’s a much better plan. Get one of your buddies to give her a job at one of their businesses. Doesn’t matter if it’s on the other side of the country. In fact, that’s preferable.”
The idea made his body alternate hot and cold. “You want me to send Emma away? Are you serious?”
Fletcher passed a hand over his face. “I cannot stress this enough. Yes . I am dead serious.”
Hell, he isn’t going to let this go.
Garrett shook his head. “I don’t get why you have such a problem with me helping Emma out,” he said, taken aback by his partner’s vehemence. “This is someone we went to school with. She has brain damage for fuck’s sake.”
His argument momentarily derailed Fletcher who lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.
“You used to eat lunch with her sometimes, don’t you remember?” Garrett reminded him.
Fletcher scowled, a line forming between his brows. “No. I don’t think I ever did. At least not on purpose. ”
Really? Because Garrett could have sworn he’d seen them eating at the same table several times.
Maybe he doesn’t remember because, unlike you, he wasn’t hyperfocused on Emma Mendez’s every move back then.
“God, you made her sound like she was a pariah,” he muttered. “She wasn’t.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Fletcher closed his eyes, abject frustration on his face. “Emma was nice enough. But her rivalry with you didn’t win her any popularity contests. Don’t forget, you were the big man on campus. People followed where you led.”
He stopped, scratching his chin. “I’m not saying I did that. I didn’t have the same issues with her that you did, but I also can’t say I really knew her. And despite how often you two bickered, neither did you. She didn’t move in our circles.”
“What a nice way of saying she was poor,” he said, displeased with that cold summation of their high school life.
“Hey, I was poor too!” Fletcher snapped.
“Compared to your family, everyone was,” he added more gently. “But her lack of money had nothing to do with it. She may have been in our classes, and we may have sat together a few times. But that doesn’t mean much for a school that size. We didn’t engage. Which isn’t surprising given she was years younger and kind of immature.”
Immature was the last word he would have used to describe Emma, but he didn’t have a leg to stand on here. If people thought Emma was immature, it was because she had always been arguing and sniping with him, for fuck’s sake.
He’d sniped right back, their back and forth integral to his existence back then.
He would have said as much but Garrett didn’t need to get into that argument with Fletcher right now. Not that his partner needed help. He was just getting warmed up.
“I’m not saying don’t help her at all. But you need to do it from a distance. Every moment you interact with her is exposing you and this entire company to an incredibly destructive lawsuit.”
“She’s not going to sue. She wouldn’t do that.”
Fletcher went beet red. “For fuck’s sake, Garrett! You don’t know her anymore. She doesn’t know herself.”
Damn . That one almost got him. Thankfully, Garrett was a fucking stubborn bastard.
Fletcher wasn’t wrong, but he also wasn’t right. Not morally. There were things he didn’t know, things Garrett couldn’t tell him…
“My ability to judge someone’s character is the reason we do so well as a company. When a potential investment walks through that door, it’s me you count on to decide whether the principals are on the up and up. Have I steered us wrong yet?”
“No,” Fletcher admitted with a grunt. “But there’s always a first time.”
“I’m not wrong. Emma hasn’t changed that much. Trust me on this.”
Emma herself might disagree, but in this limited set of circumstances, his judgment was more reliable than hers.
Hell, the phrase ‘I know you better than you know yourself’ might apply here. Or was that his wishful thinking?
Well, for better or worse, he was resolved to find out.
Fletcher’s groan was loud enough for people outside his office to hear. In retrospect, it was a good thing Garrett’s assistant had decided to extend their vacation.
“I cannot stress this enough: you are making a huge fucking mistake. The Emma Mendez of today is not the same one we went to high school with, which is something she has gone to great lengths to make clear. You have no idea what she’s capable of.”
He slapped his hand on his blotter. “ All right, that’s enough. I know what I’m doing.”
Fletcher got to his feet. “I wish that were true. The least I can do is not help you fuck up your life. From now on, you’re on your own. I’m not going to help you.”
Garrett scowled, leaning back in his chair. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means anything that involves Emma Mendez, count me out. If she’s working downstairs, my secretary can fetch my coffee. If she’s at your apartment, don’t expect me to go over there. If you take her out, don’t invite me, and don’t bring her anywhere I am. That includes dinner with Magdalena tomorrow.”
His expression darkened at Garrett’s blank expression. “You forgot ?”
“No, I didn’t,” he lied. He was a busy man who was dealing with a major personal situation. He could hardly be expected to remember every little detail.
Fletcher made a grumbling sound. “You already canceled once. Do it again and Mags is going to take it personally.”
Fletcher and Magdalena had been dating a couple of months, enough for him and Rainer to have dined with the couple over half a dozen times. He’d only canceled last week because a work meeting got pushed back.
“I didn’t forget and I’m not trying to get out of dinner, but I have…” He trailed off in expectation of the coming explosion.
Fletcher slapped a hand over his eyes. “Go ahead and say it.”
“Emma just moved in,” he said. “She has chronic health issues. I’m not comfortable leaving her alone.”
His partner swore under his breath. “Unbelievable.”
“She gets terrible migraines.”
There was a long moment of silence as Fletcher stared at him in silent judgment.
Garrett took a deep breath, aware the next truth wouldn’t help his case either. “Also, I have a kitten now. I don’t think you’re supposed to leave those alone for long periods either.”
The laughter took him by surprise. Ignoring Fletcher, he began to pull out the contract he was supposed to review.
When Fletcher was done chortling to himself, he made his way to the door, yanking his jacket into place with a bit too much drama.
“I can’t believe you’re making me say this, but I guess I have to. For all intents and purposes, Emma Mendez is a stranger now. Not only do you not owe her anything you haven’t already given—namely an apology for the garage—but she doesn’t want your help. Not at all. She doesn’t want anything to do with you. She never did.”
Those words were still ringing in his ears when Fletcher slammed the door behind him, leaving Garrett alone to stew in his thoughts.