Chapter Twenty-One
LOLA
Oh Lord.
I should be more energized after that get-together with Ruby and her million questions. But I'm not. That was two weeks ago, and even I know it's becoming weird that I'm not in the office.
Maybe "energized" is the wrong word.
Frustrated?
Or maybe a mixture of both.
I'd love to be back in the real world, and seeing my friend was wonderful, but more than just being in the world and having freedom, I want to go back to work. And not just because of the weirdness factor.
I want to be useful.
There haven't been any threats to me. At least, none that Enzo's telling me about.
I texted Silas to ask, but the only response I got back was Talk to your boyfriend, Lola. This is his operation, not mine.
I still glare at it every now and then because I know what being shut down is. I should be grateful he answered.
I'm not.
What I wanted was for him to give me answers. I'd hit up Cade for them if I had a number.
I let out a giant sigh, something moving through me that heightens my edginess.
And it's not the time, or the day, or the fact I don't go anywhere.
Okay, it's partially the last one.
I guess I just need to know how long everything is going to be. Because I'm aware the clock is ticking.
It's almost seven in the morning. I'm nauseous and starving at the same time, and even though I don't think it was possible this early, I'm pretty sure I'm getting a bump.
It just makes me even grumpier.
And sicker.
I know that in the past couple of weeks, Lyndall has been working on her auditions that are coming up in a few months, but I'm also still needing to see a doctor. And how the hell can I ask Enzo? It's not like he knows.
The longer I wait, the deeper into the not telling him I get, and the closer I come to this now being a lie.
So, that fact piles on, forcing the grumpiness and edgy levels up to eleven and counting.
But what the fuck can I do?
Nine a.m.
I have a whole day of hours ahead and no one to talk to.
I pull my phone under the covers and text Silas again.
Me
Scaredy cat.
That gets a response.
Silas
Meow.
I shut my eyes.
Maybe this mood has something to do with the fact that we did something last night. All of us. So, it doesn't count as freedom. But at least, it was away from the house.
For a brief shining moment, I had something, and now?
I've been plunged back into the darkness.
Alone.
Actually, I had fun last night. And I've never seen Enzo so proud as he was.
I even met Violet, Cade's wife, so that was another mini highlight. I liked her immediately.
Lyndall had a recital, and she shone. Bright and breathtakingly good. She mesmerized the room.
I knew she was good, but I didn't know how good. The girl's going to be a star.
The scent of something reaches me.
It's so gag-inducing my head spins, and I don't know what it is.
Hot chocolate.
I push back the covers, knocking Enzo as he comes into my suite, and the drink goes flying. With it, the equally disgusting and vile smell of melted cheese on toast.
Running, I fall to my knees in front of the toilet, hugging the porcelain as I throw up whatever's in my stomach.
When I raise my head, cheeks wet with tears and my face burning, Enzo is standing there, frowning.
Shit. I need an excuse. "I just..."
Honestly, I don't know how to finish that.
"Are you okay? You've been tired and a little peaked."
He tries to feel my forehead for my temperature.
I push him away. "Stop that. I'm just...I'm...I'm okay."
"Are you? Because unless you're secretly partying all night, you don't seem that okay. Not this morning." He goes to the sink and wets a cloth, then crouches down and wipes my face with the cool, wet flannel.
Why is he being so damn nice?
"I'm just tired, and I couldn't handle the smell."
"Of cheese? Hot chocolate?" His frown deepens. "I got you the warm drink because you don't seem to want coffee anymore. If you really hate chocolate that much, I'll banish it."
I laugh weakly, trying to get up, but he pushes down on my shoulder, stands, and then scoops me up and carries me to the bed.
"I'm not an invalid." I put my arms around his neck. Then I glare at him.
"No. You've got a secret war against chocolate."
I close my eyes, listening to the strong thud of his heart as I snuggle against the warmth of him, the strength.
His arms make me feel like I'd be safe forever if he was there, holding me.
"It's not that. It's...the dairy. I think maybe I'm lactose intolerant."
"And you know that how? With your online medical degree?"
"No..."
He lays me down, tucking me in. "Then how?"
"By the throwing up." And I toss some of the blankets off.
He tucks them back around me.
He frowns again. "Sudden onset lactose intolerance, got it."
"Enzo, no. I just...I just don't drink milk or eat dairy that much. Or I didn't until I got here."
"Well, that's going to make our late-night hot chocolate and cheese on toast parties difficult."
This time, I laugh. "We don't have those."
"We could start." He puts his wrist to my forehead. "You don't seem to have a fever."
"I told you—"
He frowns. "I know what you told me, but I think you should see a doctor."
Oh, thank God.
"Okay. I'll make an appointment for this week."
The guilt ripples through me, shredding me, but apart from some symptoms and an over-the-counter test, I don't know if I'm pregnant for sure. It could be all phantom, after all. Right?
But the guilt won't let go.
He needs to know if I am because that's only fair.
But what does that mean for me?
It might force him to be my future instead of us finding out together.
Or what if we're not meant to be and this melds us together?
My emotions roil up.
And I want to cry for absolutely no reason at all.
I swallow. "Are you going into the office?"
He sighs. "Yeah. After I change my suit. It's a little chocolaty."
I can smell the grease of the cheese and the mix of milk and chocolate, and it makes my stomach churn again.
I throw off the covers and get up.
Enzo eyes me critically. "You do know I just put you there."
"Can I go to your room with you?"
A bright expression comes over his face as he smiles. "Anytime. You don't have to ask."
I take a step, but he swings me up in his arms and carries me from one end of the floor to the other, depositing me on his haphazardly made bed. At least the rest of the room's clean.
He opens the doors to the terrace to let in the fresh, crisp morning air and the sounds of Brooklyn starting the day.
I sit there, watching as he strips down to his boxer briefs, and even through the turmoil inside, I salivate a bit at the sight of his perfect physique. The fluid way his muscles move under his skin.
I study the tattoo that bands his arm.
He picks out a suit and starts to dress. "I'll have the cleaner come early today to take care of the mess in your room."
"Temporary room" is on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it down.
I sleep in here enough now, if you can call what we've been doing sleeping.
"I sit up. "What about work? I'm so bored."
He gives me a long glance. "You're not off the hook in being secretary, you know. Just because you're doing a stint in the home office."
He seems pleased with that.
Then again, so am I.
The fantasy is safe, it has walls I can define, a word for me to use if I want it to stop. Real life is chaos, and there isn't safety when I'm with him.
Sure, my body and physical well-being are safe, but I mean my heart.
And with this baby, this...this becomes real. It's chaos, and not one safety net is anywhere to be seen.
When I have work to do, which is most weekdays now, I gladly dress up and work. I like the work, and even if he doesn't see me, I like the costume play.
"Do you think of me in the secretary outfit when you're not here?"
He turns, shirt unbuttoned, and I actually have to check with my fingers to make sure I'm not drooling.
"Let's get one fucking thing straight, Lola. I'm always thinking about you in your secretary outfit. Or naked. Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"Well, not when I'm with you playing." He winks. "Those times, I can think of more interesting things to do with you and to you. And I can also strip you naked. So...yeah, mostly."
I sniff. "You've got problems."
He shrugs and starts to button the shirt. "You seem to like those problems."
I tangle my fingers. "When do you think I can go back to work?"
I don't want to say 'will you let me?' Because this is not something he should be allowing me or not. This is my choice.
I'm talking about a timeline, an idea of when this whole thing is sorted and I'm deemed safe. "I want to work, Enzo. Properly."
His smile vanishes.
"Even if it's only on the days you're there. And I mean, down the road, when I'm safe."
He takes a breath. "No, you don't. At least, I think you'd like to work again, right? Work that isn't done just here?" He takes a beat. "And that's okay. I'm not trying to wrap you up in bubble wrap. But, look, I'm rarely in there these days."
I open my mouth but close it again as his cheeks go red.
I frown. "What?"
They get redder still. "I only bought the damned startup because of you."
"So, you don't care if it goes under?" I demand.
He selects a tie. "I never said that."
"A lot of people need those jobs, and it's not fair of you to let the company go under."
"I'm not—" He stops and raises a brow. "Louie did a pretty fucking good job of ruining the startup before I took over. He's lucky it's in his family's building."
"Then make it successful."
He slides on his vest and buttons it, then comes over to the bed and leans down to kiss me. "I've done a lot of work on it already."
I give him my best pleading look. "Don't let it go under."
"I won't." He goes to get his jacket. "I love how passionate you are about protecting the rights of your coworkers, Lola. I'll do everything I can."
I nod, my heart drumming for him, and energy fuels me. I start to get up.
He frowns at me. "What are you doing?"
"It's seven-thirty."
"Fuck. I'm late."
And I try not to smile. "You're a rich boss man."
"Who is late." He motions to me. "Lie down."
"I'm getting dressed. And I'll work in your home office." Then I swallow.
I only have access to the work computer remotely, and the firewalls on my computer need to come down.
I could spend an hour trying to get around them, but it seems right to ask.
"If I can get access to the internet, maybe I can help? After I do my work."
"Help saving the company?"
"No. Now that I know about this Dom, I can maybe be of some use. I could help track him down?"
He sighs. "The cleaner is coming today, so if you think you're up for it, and if you want, you can come in with me. You can help me look through the files relating to Dom to see if anything has been missed."
Excitement lights up my blood. "Really?"
"Really. If you're up to it."
"I told you, it's the dairy."
He nods. "Okay. From now on, it'll be only alt-dairy options for you."
Gross, but it's a small thing, so I don't respond.
I get up and race around the bed, flinging my arms around him and pulling his face to mine to pepper it with kisses. "Thanks."
"Get ready. I'll meet you down in the foyer in ten, okay?"
"Yes, Sir."
He groans as I hurry off, unable to wipe the smile off my face.
I can't believe that Enzo seems to trust me enough to give me this kind of responsibility.
But he does.
And it makes me feel like I'm on top of the world.
I brush my teeth, have a quick shower, pick out a not overtly sexy outfit, pin up my hair, and then put my shoes on.
When I meet him downstairs, I'm ready for the comments of coworkers about me disappearing or turning up with the boss. And I'm ready for questions.
This is the best I've felt for a while, and I'm positive not even one snarky comment can ruin it.
Enzo holds out his hand for me. "Ready?"
I smile. "Ready. And I promise I won't let you down."