Chapter 7 #2
She chews on her lip for a moment. “Well, I’m getting a Communications degree because I want to work from home, so I want to find administrative work that allows me to do that.
I’m good with that kind of stuff, organization.
Everything having its place, everything being orderly…
I like that. Makes me feel useful. That way I can maybe travel a bit while still working, too, maybe.
I don’t know.” She pauses to take a deep breath, brows furrowing slightly as she thinks about what to tell me next.
“I like to crochet. I make these cute little animals…” She shakes her head, as if cutting herself off. A shame. She’s reluctant to share.
I stroke my chin, my five o’clock shadow prickly against my fingers. “I see. You only care to work from home? That’s your only concern with your career? You have no further aspirations or passions with it?”
She shakes her head no. I frown. It’s a foreign concept to me, and it makes me wonder how motivated of a person she is. I thought she had a fire and a passion to her, but maybe I was wrong.
“I just…want peace.” She sighs, and I see a sliver of the weight that our impending marriage places on her.
“Quiet. Solitude. That way I can control when and how much I’m out in the world.
I-I know it sounds strange, but the world can be overwhelming for me.
And I’ve never been interested in monetizing my passions and putting them in the boxes of careers.
I’m sure it sounds strange to someone in your kind of…
industry, as you called it.” She seemed to pick up on my confusion at her lack of ambition.
I’m not the only one who’s perceptive, and I need to remember that.
Hmm. I’m quiet for a moment, furrowing my brows as I sip more of my drink, looking at the table. She does the same, still not meeting me in the eye.
I’ve put her into a box within a few minutes of meeting her. One of the very things that I liked about her when my men gave me the notes on her personality, that she’s an out of box thinker and refuses to conform to social molds, and yet, I tried to force her into them almost immediately.
Just like my father used to do to me.
Perhaps this required some introspection. But not now, not when I need to focus on the woman before me. My woman.
“I understand now. Thank you for explaining that to me.” When I look up, she looks nervous and fidgety again, like my pause made her nervous.
She’s avoiding eye contact even more, looking off to the side.
All of her body language is screaming embarrassed, but I don’t really understand why.
It seems like every time she talks, she regrets what she says.
It makes me want to reach across the table and hold her hand to comfort her.
Instead, I just keep my voice calm and level.
“It did confuse me at first, I admit. But it makes sense now that you explained it. Sometimes career and money isn’t everything that matters.
Besides, it’s not like you’ll ever need to worry about money again. ”
I can’t help but take delight in the surprise that’s etched onto her face. “Pardon?”
I raise my eyebrows at her shock and confusion, letting my playfulness show through. Only for her. “What? You know who I am, you know of the extent of my reach. Did you not think I was wealthy?”
Her face flushes again, making her look so adorable, even though I don’t understand why she’s embarrassed. “Well, yes, but I didn’t want to assume that you’d be sharing,” she mumbles, looking down and shifting in her seat uneasily.
“Ah. I told your grandfather, but he must not have shared the message.” A fact I don’t like. Something to take note of. “I plan on giving you a generous cut of the revenue I get from the docks. Which will be…substantial.”
It’s a plan I’ve had from the start. But it had changed slightly since I discovered more about Amy and my…
interest grew. So, while it’s still true, it’s not the full picture.
I plan on giving her a lot more than just that cut.
I’ll give her all of my money if she asks.
In fact, I plan on subtly sneaking her far more than her cut of the profits.
Sneaking because I have a feeling that she’d refuse it otherwise.
I know I’ve made the right call when she relaxes. “Oh. I see. That’s generous of you.”
I want to smirk and tease her more to get her to blush, but I hold back, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.
I keep my face neutral to conceal my emotions.
“It’s just good business. I’m surprised you’d participate in something like this without some sort of payment.
You should never let that happen,” I say sternly, perhaps a bit too stern based on the flush that creeps up her neck again.
I’m just trying to give her solid business advice, not embarrass her.
But she seems determined to be humiliated at every opportunity.
Something for us to work on, little mouse.
“Well, I am getting payment.” She hesitates to continue, tugging on her sleeve of her cardigan.
I arch a brow. “Yes? Do tell.”
Her throat constricts as she swallows nervously. “Don’t you know? I mean…I don’t want to die. Or for my family to die.”
Ah. So that’s what her grandparents told her to convince her.
No wonder she’s so jumpy around me. Well, they weren’t lying.
But, frankly, I hadn’t planned on killing her.
Just her father, probably, and waging war on her grandfather, which could result in his death.
She and her grandmother and mother would never be put in harm’s way. But she doesn’t need to know that.
It’s good that she’s scared of me and understands who’s in control here.
“I see, yes, that’s a wise decision. Well, consider the money to be a bonus.
Besides, I don’t need a whiny wife. The money should resolve that, I should think.
” I doubt she would ever truly complain, but I couldn’t let her know the real reason I’m insistent on giving her that money.
I’m barely willing to admit it to myself.
Her eyes widen and then she flushes red again. “I won’t be like that,” she mumbles again, tugging on her sleeve again. She’s going to stretch it out and ruin it at this rate.
I open my mouth to reply, but notice her breathing picking up and tears pricking the corners of her eyes. I tilt my head curiously at her, confused at her reaction. I hadn’t intended to hurt her feelings, but apparently I did. Be more gentle, you big oaf.
She stood up abruptly, fumbling with her wallet. When she grabs her coffee, which she has barely drank, her hands are trembling. “I’m going to get back to the hotel. I don’t want my grandparents to worry. I’m guessing I’ll see you later?”
I stand up and nod. “Yes, but—”
She doesn’t even let me finish, which is surprising. She doesn’t seem the type to be rude like that, especially not with someone she’s scared of. “Great. See you soon.”
She turns and all but flees the coffee shop, yanking open the door with a bit more force than necessary and nearly running into someone that’s making their way inside. She apologizes and ducks her head before power walking down the street, back towards the hotel.
I stand there in some level of shock. I’ve shot people for interrupting me like that. Granted, it’s usually a deliberate attempt to disrespect me. This doesn’t feel like that at all.
I shake my head and grab my drink, making sure my phone and wallet are in my pockets before following her out. I see Liam already trailing her from across the the street, and Jack moves in to follow behind me.
She’s walking fast, and Liam has to jog for a bit to keep up with her. He turns and shoots me a look over his shoulder. What the feck happened?
I’m asking myself the same question.
What are you running from, sweet Amy? Because it’s not just me.