Chapter 21
SELENA
I wake up to the sound of Griffin’s deep breathing.
It is still early. I take a moment just to look at his face.
Though fine lines reveal his age, he's remarkably beautiful.
He radiates a power and strength that offers protection.
I've always been one to rely upon myself, and I still am that person, but Griffin feels like armor.
I shouldn't trust him—not really—but there is a fraction of my heart that defies logic.
In it, there is no time, no experience, no justification for a love this unwise, but for some strange reason, it exists.
Griffin must sense me staring because his eyes open.
“Good morning,” he says, giving me a rough, sleep-heavy smile. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Just a little beat up.” My stomach isn't as raw as it has been, but I don't feel one hundred percent myself.
“I spoke with Beckett last night. He wants to see you today, to make sure you’re okay.” Griffin sounds nervous. Actually worried.
“I’m fine. It’s just nerves, and baby, and...” I really don’t know what it is.
“Please go to the doctor.”
He sounds so sincere I back down immediately.
“I was hoping to meet you for lunch today,” I admit, feeling disappointed that I’m going to yet another doctor’s appointment instead.
“Ah, I would love that. I’ll take you to the clinic afterward. See?” He smirks at me. “Compromise.”
“What about work?” I know he hates interruptions.
“I’m introducing my office to my wife. I can take a fucking lunch break.”
“I thought we were going to wait until after the official ceremony to tell people we're married. I don't mind your office knowing, but doesn't it make you look impulsive?”
“I needed a wife. They didn’t specify how I was supposed to get her. Just wear something tasteful and beautiful, and we’ll keep things above board.” He winks. “I’m going to work out. You get some more rest. I’ll have the chef prepare us breakfast.”
“What time is it?” I stretch.
“Five a.m. I’m always up at this hour, but I order you to sleep.” He furrows his brow, trying to look menacing.
“Ah, the mean boss act. No need to break a blood vessel. You couldn’t drag me out of bed if you tried.” I snuggle deeper into the blankets.
“I could be enticed to stay, though... fucking is a workout.” Griffin gives me a seductive grin. I lift my knee to find him already hard.
“You’re too much.” I laugh.
He wiggles his fingers playfully. “I can use these if you’re achy.”
God. With the thought of him touching me with such expert skill, sleep suddenly sounds ridiculous.
“If we’re gonna play, I want all of you,” I say, pulling him down for a kiss.
That's all it takes. We spend the rest of the morning making love.
By the time he leaves and I’m soaking in the bath, I’m pretty wiped out. I have some kind of savage amnesia when it comes to sex with Griffin; I always forget about his size and exuberance until afterward.
When I’m done bathing, I have coffee and a small bowl of Greek yogurt with berries. I don’t want to eat too much just in case I get sick again.
I get dressed in my most elegant daywear: a brown raw silk tea dress with pearl buttons and chunky heels. I add a stained-glass butterfly necklace—the one item I purchased myself from the boutique. It reminds me of freedom.
I am nervous about entering the building and facing Griffin’s staff, but I tell myself I look good, I smell good, and I’m married to their boss. I’m wearing the Tiffany rock to prove it.
The elevator doors slide open on the thirty-fifth floor. Seated at the reception desk is a woman I don’t recognize. I plaster a smile on my face and step forward. Sunlight pours through the glass walls, catching the gold in my hair. I feel ready.
“Selena Calloway to see Griffin Calloway,” I say casually.
The receptionist looks up, her brow knitting in confusion. “Selena Calloway?”
My heart skips a beat. Did Griffin not tell them? Keep calm.
“Yes. Griffin’s wife.” I widen my smile.
“Oh. I’m sorry. Sure, let me call him.” She’s flustered. Good.
“I’ll wait,” I say politely.
Two weeks ago, I wouldn't have cared. But suddenly I feel possessive. I don’t want any barriers between me and the father of my unborn child.
“Mr. Calloway,” her voice changes to a soft, seductive purr. “Your... wife is here to see you?” She asks it as a question, her face flashing shock. “Okay. Thank you.” She turns to me and almost glares. “You may go in.”
The old me would have been polite. The me from two weeks ago would have been nice. This me just walks past her without a word. Thank you, pregnancy hormones, for turning me into a goblin.
As I walk down the long aisle of cubicles, conversation ceases. The walkway seems to stretch for miles. I can feel eyes on me. I turn to face a man in a cubicle beside me.
“Hi,” I say with a bright smile, and keep walking.
When I reach the cluster of desks outside Griffin’s office—my old workspace—I gaze upon two stunned faces.
“El,” Joe mutters, not looking up from his monitor. “Maybe don’t.”
And then it hits me. I saw Joe at the charity ball. Of course he told the entire office. He’s probably shared his scathing commentary on why we got married, too.
El smirks anyway, fueled by venomous jealousy. “What? Just admiring how confidently she’s walking in here like she didn’t win the temp lottery.” She looks up at me with a wicked grin.
My stomach twists.
Do I comment or stay silent? Should I be the catty wife or the elegant woman?
I choose a mix of both.
“Hi, El. All I can say is, I’m just glad the job was temporary.”
El turns to her computer. “He must have offered a hell of a contract,” she mutters.
Joe shoots El a sharp look. Someone nearby stifles a laugh.
“He’s in there, Selena. Go right on in,” Joe says quickly, trying to salvage the situation.
“She’s not even his type,” I hear someone whisper behind me.
I turn around, my hand on Griffin's door handle.
“You’re right,” I say clearly. “I’m not his type. I don’t sleep with my boss in the office, and I don’t gossip about his wife behind her back.”
I open the door and step into Griffin’s office.
“I feel like seafood for lunch, darling,” I announce as I close the door, leaning back against it. “After swimming through so many sharks.”
“Bravo.” Griffin is beaming. “I heard the whole thing. I’m firing them both after lunch.”
“Don’t. I want them to see me walk in here with a big-ass belly in a few months.” I give him a wide smile. “Besides, you need to behave like a partner in a law firm, not a tyrannical king.”
I walk over to his desk and lean forward to kiss him.
“I knew I married you for a reason.” His smile is delightful. “But I really do want to fire them.”
“I still think torture is better.” I sit in the chair across from his desk.
“Torture it is. I have two emails to send, then we’ll go. What sounds good?” He sits and starts typing.
“Sadly, nothing. Maybe soup?” I really think that’s all my stomach can take.
“I’m so glad I’m taking you to see Beckett. Soup...” Griffin thinks. “There’s an upscale deli a few blocks from here. A hoagie sounds good to me. We can both find something there.”
“Perfect.”
When he’s done, he stands up. “Ready?”
“We have to go back out there so soon?” I stand with him, suddenly nervous again.
“Watch this,” he says. He takes my hand, interlacing our fingers.
We walk out into the silent bullpen.
“Everyone.”
Oh god. He’s going to make a speech.
“You can all thank Mrs. Calloway,” he says, squeezing my hand, “for the firm approving hour-long lunches starting today. I have to confess, I’m learning work-life balance. Selena will keep me in line. And if she doesn’t, Junior certainly will. Have a nice lunch. Be back by two.”
He’s smiling. He has a pep in his step. And he just told everyone in his office I’m pregnant. Sort of.
Heat blooms in my cheeks as we walk down the aisle.
“Thank you, Mr. Calloway.”
“This is amazing!”
“I didn’t think it was real.”
My fingers tighten around Griffin’s hand until we clear the cubicles. When we reach the lobby where the bitchy receptionist sits, I finally breathe.
“Monroe from thirty-six will cover you. Go to lunch, Ashley,” Griffin says.
Her jaw drops seeing his hand in mine.
“Thank you, Mr. Calloway.” Her voice is cold and quiet.
We step into the elevator. The doors close.
In the privacy of the car, I turn to look at him, an evil glint in my eye. “Her, too?”
“I didn’t expect her to stay,” Griffin says defensively.
“Does El know?” I feel like a gossiping teen.
“I think she suspects.” He gives me a half-hearted smile.
“How long ago?”
“Six months. She worked for the court downstairs. One of the partners brought her up because she’s hot. He’s married, and she wasn’t biting when he tried to seduce her, so I kind of wanted to fuck him over a little. So I seduced her.”
“That’s pretty shitty.” Maybe I don’t want to know more about Griffin.
“Yes. It’s really shitty. But she’s married. Did you not see her wedding ring?” He cocks his head at me like he’s won some sort of war.
“You are vile,” I tease, but I’m the slightest bit worried.