20. Garrett
Chapter Twenty
GARRETT
H e choked down a second antihistamine, seriously hoping it wasn’t possible to overdose on the things.
“This is all your fault,” he growled at the cat twining between his legs. “Get off me before I turn you into earmuffs.”
The kitten gleefully ignored him. It continued to rub up against his pant legs, really grinding his fur all into the lightweight silk blend.
By the time he dragged his ass home tonight, Garrett had been exhausted.
Then this little fucker had greeted him at the door, smushing his little face against him. The animal proceeded to complain in high-pitched kitten speak about the audacity of being forced to live in a three-thousand-square-foot penthouse instead of a busy parking garage.
Because getting catered to hand and foot, or paw to paw, was such a hardship.
“I know what you’re doing. Your instinct is to mark your territory. But it's not going to work,” he said, picking up the beast when he began to simultaneously claw and headbutt his ankles.
“I will feed you, vaccinate you, and provide flea medication. But there will be no cuddles and no kisses to your wee furry face. I’m not falling for your wiles, so save that shit for Emma. ”
The kitten meowed as if in protest.
“That’s right. I don’t even like cats. You’re too furry and you shed over everything and I’m not on board with that whole licking yourself clean thing. It’s unhygienic. But I’m willing to put up with you as long as you keep up your end.”
The cat tilted its head almost as if it was listening to him.
“That’s right,” he added with a significant look. “I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart. You’re a working cat. Your job is to make Emma love you so she doesn’t want to move out.”
It wasn’t manipulation, exactly. At heart, Garrett was a businessman. He knew how to craft a good deal.
Out there was a world of crowded, overpriced apartments, too many roommates, and long commutes. Here, Emma got her choice of bedrooms, a kitten, and if all went well, a cool mechanic best friend next door.
Not that he’d asked George for any special treatment of his guest. But his best friend’s girl was a naturally sweet woman who already seemed to like Emma a lot.
After pumping both Kyle and Pedro, it became obvious that Emma didn’t have many friends. Those two might be it for her. Unless you counted Bethany, which he didn’t. No one should.
For years, Emma had been focused on her recovery, but expanding her social circle could only help her. She needed a stronger safety net. Which was why it was odd that Emma had moved so far from home, away from her mother and younger sister.
Yes, it must have been uncomfortable being around people you didn’t remember. But to distance yourself from your family? And why had her mother let her leave?
Garrett’s own mother was long dead, and he didn’t have the best relationship with his father. But despite the occasional tension her mother’s reputation caused Emma, he knew that on a personal level, they had gotten along. At least they appeared to be close when he’d seen them around town.
Regardless of why Emma had come here, she had done it, inadvertently landing in his sphere of influence.
Some people would call it chance. But Garrett was growing increasingly convinced that the hand of fate was involved. How else could he explain Emma ending up working for a company he owned?
If anything, he was obligated to keep an eye on her. He had to because of… reasons. Things she didn’t need to know about and wouldn’t be receptive to hearing yet.
He was just trying to do right by her. She might not like it now, but she’d come to understand that. Eventually.
Garrett rubbed his eyes before remembering he’d handled the little beast and hadn’t washed his hands. “ Shit !”
Hurrying to the sink behind the bar, he quickly washed his hands before repeatedly splashing his face, eyes open, until his eyeballs began to burn.
“If you want me to move out, just ask. There’s no need to drown yourself.”
Grabbing a bar towel, he wiped his face before turning to face Emma, who was just pulling off a black windbreaker as the heavy door swung shut behind her.
“This is your cat’s fault,” he informed her.
“Oh, so now it’s my cat?”
“It’s like a kid,” he said, shrugging philosophically. “When it’s good, it’s our cat. But when it’s bad, it’s all yours.”
Emma snorted in response.
Tossing the towel aside, he examined her windblown hair and checked his watch. It was almost half past six, a gap reasonably explained by the busy downtown traffic. But it was also enough time for her to walk here, even if she closed the kiosk a few minutes late.
His eyes narrowed on her face. “Did you call the car service to drive you home?”
Emma hesitated, jacket in hand. It was all the answer he needed.
Sighing, he went to take the windbreaker from her, hanging it in the coat closet next to the door.
“It takes less time to walk,” she protested.
“Debatable given the foot traffic at dinnertime. ”
“Are you going to give me a hard time about this?” she asked, her voice pitched a touch higher.
Warning lights began to flash in his brain, but he couldn’t stop himself from being honest.
“I know a lot of people are still out at this hour, but downtown’s not a great place right now. You’d be much safer waiting for the car service.”
“Sure, dad.”
Garrett shuddered. “Don’t call me that.”
The light brown skin of her cheeks deepened in color. “I meant dad in the normal mocking way, not in the daddy sense. Don’t make it weird.”
He shook his head in despair. This woman was going to drive him insane. “Dinner is in half an hour.”
Emma’s head drew back. “Uh, do we do that together?”
Garrett thought about it. “Probably not every night. I often work through dinner, eating in my office when work is especially busy. But as I explained before, things are winding down there. Mohammed, the chef, is pretty good, though. You ate his food yesterday.”
“Rainer’s chef works for you, too?”
“He works for the building. He used to service the penthouses exclusively, but Rainer and I didn’t keep him busy enough. I eat at the office or out at business dinners often. Which is why Rainer and I decided to let the other tenants book meals from him too. It works out if they do it a couple weeks in advance.”
Her brow puckered. “Do you own this building too?”
“Me, Rainer, and two other old friends,” he explained.
Garrett regretted telling her immediately. Everything Emma was thinking was written on her face.
“That’s, um, nice,” she said, her expression a touch nauseated. “Is one of the other guys Fletcher?”
“No, these are friends I met in college. I lived with both Rainer and Elias in a condo at one point. We met his cousin Ian a little later. They’re my closest friends.”
“Oh. That must be nice,” she said, picking at some invisible lint on her sleeve. “Being in business with your friends.”
“It is,” he said, trying his best to forget he’d likely separated her from one of her few friends by busting up her living situation. Unless you counted her coworkers, but who in their right mind would count Bethany?
Glossing over the momentary discomfort, he soldiered on.
Garrett jerked his thumb in the direction of his kitchen. “I let Mohammed prepare the meals for the rest of the building here. He leaves me something to heat up when I ask. But he’s been at Rainer’s more since he and George got together, preparing family meals. Did she tell you her dad lives in the building too?”
Emma nodded. “She did. It’s nice she and her dad can live so close.”
Was that wistfulness he heard? Why the hell had her mother let her leave home?
Emma blinked, refocusing on him. “George said she and Rainer are getting married in a couple of months. She invited me over tomorrow night to help her fix up some wedding favors. Since we’re telling each other our plans and all.”
“Keeping me informed isn’t obligatory,” he said, trying his best to sound breezy and unconcerned. “Neither is dinner. But you may as well join me if you’re free. I don’t think Mohammad likes cooking for one.”
Emma considered that. “I guess that makes sense. So would you like me to text you if I have plans outside the building?”
He knew ‘no’ was the right answer. This would work so much better if he kept things casual, letting Emma come and go as she pleased.
But Garrett couldn’t do it. All his concerns about her health aside, there were too many things that could happen to a beautiful young woman on her own.
Hell, bad shit already had happened. Bad enough to erase him.
“Did you check in with Pedro?” he asked, ignoring the strangled quality of his voice .
Emma lifted a shoulder, her cheeks duskier than normal. “There wasn’t a need. He was always home.”
That blush was killing him. It helped when Garrett reminded himself Emma was recovering from a major head injury.
“Let’s be practical,” he said, ignoring the fact his chest was trying to collapse on him. “We’re roommates now. I think touching base is reasonable.”
That way he didn’t have to worry she was lying in a ditch . Again.
“You really do sound parental.”
He sent a little prayer of thanks that she didn’t call him dad again. Daddy, however, was still on the table.
Emma lifted a shoulder. “Okay, I’ll do the same. Or I’ll try to.”
He shrugged with a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “Sometimes I lose track of time at the office. But you can text me so you don’t have to wonder if I got kidnapped like Rainer almost did.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Rainer almost got what ?”
Garrett jerked a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ll tell you during dinner. Ready in fifteen?”
She grabbed his arms. “Good God, man! Tell me now.”
Laughing, he reluctantly peeled her hands off him. “Fifteen minutes. I need to shower your cat’s fur off.”
Emma raised her hands, miming choking him.
It was the most enthusiastic she’d been for his company.
Yeah, he might have tricked her into wanting it, but he’d take anything at this point.
“See you in fifteen.”