17. Maeve
MAEVE
Once dinner finally wraps up, we’re shepherded into the sitting room for drinks and what Elaine cheerfully promises will be “just a little card game or two.”
Christmas carols drift from an honest-to-goodness record player in the corner, and I spot an entire wall of vinyl records organized with the kind of meticulous care that screams “expensive hobby.” The fire crackles invitingly in the massive stone fireplace, and outside the tall windows, snow falls in those perfect, fat flakes that look like something out of a holiday movie.
It really is picture-perfect Christmas magic. I just wish I hadn’t potentially ruined it by word-vomiting about my financial disasters at the dinner table. My entire presence here feels like a mistake—like I’m a discount store ornament trying to hang on a designer Christmas tree.
“I am so thrilled that you’re all here for the holidays!
” Elaine practically glows as she guides Lydia to the elegant settee, her hands fluttering with excitement.
“Darling, I know you want to see your friends, but we must coordinate around our planned activities. Or maybe some of them could join us! We’re going to the Christmas tree lighting in the town square—everyone’s invited to that, naturally.
And we’re singing with the local church choir for their caroling tour.
They can always use more voices. Do any of your friends happen to be sopranos? We’re short on trained sopranos…”
Lydia nods along with the patience of someone who’s clearly been through this before, assuring her mother that she can work her social life around the itinerary.
Watching Elaine plan and organize reminds me of what I imagine a cruise director must be like—relentlessly cheerful and determined that everyone will have the perfect holiday experience whether they want to or not.
I drift over to stand by the fireplace, cradling my mulled wine like a security blanket.
The warmth that had bloomed in my chest when the guys praised my baking at dinner has transformed into the nauseating heat of mortification.
All I want is for everyone to forget I exist so I can slip away to bed without drawing more attention to myself.
Unfortunately, that escape plan gets torpedoed almost immediately when Gabriel appears at my elbow.
“Cold, petit oiseau doux ?” His accent adds a lilt to the familiar nickname, and there’s something almost protective in his tone. “I could throw another log on the fire if you’d like.”
“No thanks. I’m fine.” I take a larger sip of wine than is probably advisable.
Gabriel’s expression grows serious, and my stomach drops. This is it—he’s been elected as the diplomatic one to gently explain how I’ve embarrassed them all. “You never mentioned your debt before.”
I stiffen, defensive instincts kicking in. “Why would I? It’s not your business.”
“You’re our employee.”
“Right, and you pay me well.” The words come out sharper than I intended. “What I do with my salary, how I manage my finances, what my life was like before I worked for you—that’s not your concern.”
“You could have come to us.” His voice gentles. “We have employee assistance programs, debt relief options…”
I shake my head, heat crawling up my neck. “It’s embarrassing.”
And it is. These men pay me more than generously—to admit that even with their excellent salary, I’m still eating ramen most nights and living in a studio apartment the size of their walk-in closets feels like confessing to some fundamental failure as a human being.
I refuse to be that person who takes advantage of their kindness or asks for handouts.
Gabriel’s brow furrows with what looks like genuine concern.
“There is nothing embarrassing about pursuing an education. You accomplished remarkable things—double majoring while attending culinary school. And knowing you like I do, I know you’re a capable woman and a hard worker.
People get into debt through circumstances beyond their control all the time. ”
His unexpected kindness hits me like a sucker punch. My throat gets tight, and I have to blink hard to keep my composure. “Thank you. That… that means a lot.”
Gabriel reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out something that makes my brain short-circuit for a moment. I recognize the sleek black card, but I can’t quite process why he’s holding it out to me.
“What is this?” I manage to whisper.
“A credit card.” His tone is matter-of-fact, like he’s handing me a business card instead of what I’m pretty sure is a Black Amex.
“You’re not funny. Seriously, why are you giving this to me?”
“As long as you’re here, I don’t want you to worry about money. About anything.”
“Gabriel, I can’t possibly—” I try to push the card back toward him, but he catches my hand and redirects it.
“Please.” There’s something almost like a plea in his eyes. “It would give me peace of mind to know you have it.”
I stare down at the card that probably has more spending power than I’ll see in my entire lifetime. “Okay, fine. If you insist.”
“I do.” He winks and strides away, leaving me standing there clutching what might as well be a winning lottery ticket.
I slide the card into my pocket with trembling fingers. I’ve heard these cards have no preset spending limit. I could probably buy a small yacht with this thing. The level of trust Gabriel just showed me is staggering and terrifying in equal measure.
I’m still processing this surreal turn of events when Hayden materializes beside me like a grumpy storm cloud.
“Do you realize that you being in debt like this makes all of Meridian look bad?” he grumbles, fishing something out of his pocket.
Another Black Amex. Sweet Jesus. “We need to be able to say we take care of our people. How the hell do we maintain credibility about our success if our personal assistant—the person who works directly under us—can’t pay her bills? ”
“Hayden, oh my god, no.” I hold up my hands like I’m trying to stop an avalanche. “I cannot accept another?—”
He thrusts the card at me with the determination of a man who’s used to getting his way. “Take it.”
“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. I don’t need charity.”
“And yet you’re going to accept it anyway.” His voice drops into that commanding tone that probably makes CEOs tremble. “Consider it a direct order from your boss.”
“Hayden—”
He presses the card into my palm and stalks away before I can mount any further protest, leaving me holding two credit cards that belong to literal billionaires and feeling like I’ve fallen down some kind of financial rabbit hole.
I pocket the second card next to the first, where they feel impossibly heavy for such small pieces of plastic. Maybe I am dreaming. Maybe I had too much wine and I’m actually passed out somewhere, having stress-induced hallucinations.
I’m still trying to process this bizarre turn of events when Ford approaches. When I notice his hand is buried in his suit pocket, a sudden suspicion dawns on me.
“Let me guess,” I say, only half-joking. “You’re here to give me your credit card too.”
His eyebrows shoot up as he pulls out—surprise—a Black Amex. “Yes, actually. How did you know?”
I stare at the third card in disbelief. “This is insane. All three of you? What’s gotten into you guys?”
Something flashes in his eyes, and he presses the card into my hand. “You’re going to take mine too.”
“Seriously, this is too much?—”
“You’re my fiancée.” The possessive edge in his voice makes my pulse stutter. “It would be unacceptable for me not to take care of you.”
I can see in his expression that he’s not backing down, and I’ve learned to pick my battles with these three impossibly stubborn men. Just because I have the cards doesn’t mean I have to use them. “Fine. You win.”
Ford gives a single, satisfied nod before he steps away to chat with Lydia about her semester.
I slip the third card into my pocket with the others, and they feel like they weigh a thousand pounds.
I have to admit, though—it’s been a long time since anyone tried to take care of me.
Liam certainly never offered, even when he knew I was struggling.
I know this probably doesn’t mean much to any of them given their wealth, but it means everything to me.
The group settles into comfortable conversation clusters, and I make my way over to sit beside Ford since that’s what’s expected of the devoted fiancée.
I nod and smile and try to follow the chatter, but honestly, I can feel my energy draining away like water from a cracked bucket.
The flight, the constant performance of being someone I’m not, the social navigation, the stress of my dinner table confession, the emotional whiplash of seeing Liam again—it’s all catching up with me at once.
Ford slips an arm around my shoulders and leans close enough that his breath tickles my ear. “Are you about done for the night?”
I’m tempted to lie, to prove I can handle whatever this fake relationship throws at me, but the concern in his voice undoes me. “Yeah. I’m wiped.”
Across the room, I catch Liam watching us with an expression I can’t quite read. Whatever he’s thinking, I don’t like the attention. I just want to disappear.
I turn to whisper in Ford’s ear, close enough that my lips almost brush his skin. “Say something fiancé-ish. Make it convincing.”
Ford’s grin turns wicked, and his arm slides from my shoulders down to my waist, pulling me closer until I can feel his body heat through our clothes. His other hand comes up to trace his thumb across my bottom lip with devastating slowness.
“You know I’m never going to pass up the chance to take you to bed,” he growls, loud enough for everyone to hear but quiet enough to seem like an intimate moment.
My stomach dips, my jaw falling open slightly. I thought he’d go for something traditionally romantic, not… not that. The rough edge to his voice sounds so real that for a moment, I forget this is all pretend.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Liam’s face darken before he pointedly looks away. Good. He lost the right to have opinions about my love life when he decided I wasn’t worth fighting for.
“I think that’s my cue to head upstairs,” Lydia says with a knowing giggle, and I realize Ford’s little performance just announced our sex life to his entire family.
My face burns hot enough to melt steel. I mean, if we were really engaged, there would obviously be… activities. But having his parents know about it feels mortifying even in this fake scenario.
We all migrate upstairs together, and I say goodnight to Hayden and Gabriel at their respective doors before following Ford into our shared room.
The ensuite bathroom is a work of art—all marble and gold fixtures, with a clawfoot tub big enough to swim in and a shower that looks like it belongs in a luxury spa.
Even the towels probably cost more than my monthly grocery budget.
I have to admit, Elaine has exquisite taste.
I’ve seen photos of other wealthy homes that look like explosion in a gold leaf factory, but everything here flows together with elegant cohesion.
Each room has its own personality while contributing to a beautiful whole.
I can definitely see where Ford gets his aesthetic sense.
I wash up and get ready for bed, then vacate the bathroom so Ford can have his turn. Even though exhaustion weighs down my limbs, my heart starts racing as I stare at the king-sized bed that suddenly looks much smaller than it did this morning.
Ford emerges from the bathroom and smirks when he catches me standing there like a deer in headlights. “It’s not going to bite you.”
“I don’t know, those pillows look pretty suspicious.”
He chuckles and climbs into bed with casual confidence. “You’ve been my assistant for two years. If I could keep my hands off you all that time, I think we can survive another two weeks.”
Heat floods my cheeks as I process his words. The way he phrased that makes it sound like I’ve been some kind of temptation he’s had to resist, which is ridiculous. I’m clearly reading too much into it because I’m tired and about to share a bed with the most attractive man I’ve ever worked for.
I climb in gingerly, trying to take up as little space as possible while still looking natural. Ford waits until I’m settled, then adds in a voice so low it’s almost a whisper, “If I ever did touch you, Spitfire, it would be because you begged me to.”
My entire nervous system short-circuits as his breath brushes my ear.
Okay, maybe I’m not surviving this whole ordeal after all.