9. Fiona
Chapter 9
Fiona
“God, I needed this,” Rosalee says, sinking into her massage chair and closing her eyes. I do the same, letting the hot water from the foot bath soak into my soul. The nail technician adds some lavender scented salts and I breathe in the relaxing aroma.
“Me too.”
“Corporate vibes getting you down?”
I smirk. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, I have some news we can talk about. My boss is moving to San Diego and asked me to come with her.”
I pop my eyes open. “Really? Will she pay for the move?”
She blows raspberries. “Of course not, but if I sell the bungalow, I could afford a nice condo downtown.”
“But you love the bungalow.”
She shrugs. “It was my grandma’s, but she’s long gone, and it’s in major need of a renovation I can’t afford. I spoke to a realtor, and he said houses like mine are going for well over the asking rate. It could set me up for a few years.”
“What about Ray?”
“You mean the man who I’ve dated off and on for a decade? The one who I caught with the new hostess today?”
I scrunch my nose. “You’re right. You’re too good for him.”
She laughs. “I’m worried about leaving you.”
“Please don’t. It’s earlier than I planned, but I’ll make it work. I can afford an apartment for a few months if necessary.”
“Are you sure you want to stay in LA? You could move with me. They have a Reilly Tech branch in San Diego. Would you be able to transfer?”
I wince when my first thought is that I can’t be too far from my dad. Rosa puts her freshly manicured hand over mine. “No pressure, babe. The door will always be open.”
I heave a sigh. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
“Alright, enough stalling. Your turn.”
I offer a flat look before I give in to the inevitable. “Emilia invited me over to her house for dinner tomorrow night.”
She raises her eyebrows. “As in Emilia Reilly-Beck? Tech mogul and your idol?”
“Yes. As in my boss’s boss’s boss.”
“Are they promoting you?”
I puff out my cheeks. “I don’t know.”
“Has she invited anyone else to her house?”
I shrug. “She invites the executives once a year and they bring someone from management within their department. Arthur would never choose me, though.”
“But this isn’t that.”
“No. It’s…unusual. But there are a lot of unusual things happening at Reilly Tech these days.”
She perks up. “Oh?”
The technician lifts my foot out of the bath and I readjust in the seat. “I can’t go into details, but Emilia invited me to help with a cyber security investigation.”
“Sounds like she trusts you.”
“I wish I could say the same for the team.”
“Team?”
Crap, I didn’t mean to bring them up. “I’m working with three guys from the Maddox Security team.”
“Security guys? Sounds hot.”
I chuckle. “You’d be in heaven.”
“Why aren’t you?”
“Two of them are cool. There’s just this one guy, Clay. He’s arrogant, egotistical, and makes it his life's mission to piss me off. He even flirted with Deanna when she showed up out of the blue. Typical fuck boy douchebag.”
She frowns. “You should have led with the Deanna thing. What did she want?”
I heave a sigh, watching the technician scrub at my calloused heel. “She offered platitudes and acted like what happened wasn’t her fault. She even said she didn’t care that I’m out of the church.”
“That probably means she’s up to something.”
I shrug. “Whatever it is, I want nothing to do with it.”
Rosalee sighs. “Just be careful. And call me if she ambushes you like that again. You never have to face those assholes alone. You understand?”
I smile and squeeze her hand. “I do. Thank you.”
She settles back into her massage chair. “So. This Clay guy. Is he hot?”
I roll my eyes.
“That’s a yes.”
“No hotter than most of the jerks in this city.”
She purses her lips. “You’re a terrible liar.”
I heave a sigh. “Okay fine. He’s super hot.”
“And you like him?”
I press my lips together and she laughs. “But you don’t want to.”
“He’s a class A asshole. But there’s this part of him that’s protective. I had a run in with Edgar in the lounge and Clay and I had a moment.”
“Tell me more.”
“It’s like Edgar took up all the negativity in the room and left Clay with nothing but kindness.”
“What did he say?”
“He looked into my soul and said he’d never let Edgar hurt me.”
“And I assume you bent over and let him take you on your desk?”
Both of our technicians chuckle, and I laugh and roll my eyes.
“If Deanna is his type, there will be no bending over anything.”
“I wouldn’t judge him too harshly for that. He thinks you hate him. I guarantee if he thought you were interested, he wouldn’t have looked at her twice.”
“I appreciate your vote of confidence. But I doubt that.”
“Well, it’s obvious he’s not a total douche if he wants to protect you from Edgar. Maybe he just needs to feel comfortable around you before he opens up. It wouldn’t hurt you to be a little less closed off. I’m sure he’s picking up on that.”
I narrow my gaze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She sighs. “I was the same way when I left the church. It’s hard to trust anyone when the people you love most shit all over you. But not everyone is like that. There are good people in the world. You didn’t choose the family you were born into.”
Is Clay so prickly simply because I am? We know nothing personal about each other. Paul is a master chef. Dylan was in the Army Special Forces. But I only learned those things when Clay wasn’t around. What if Rosalee is right?
“I have the perfect outfit for you to wear.”
“That’s okay. I have an old dress I can wear.”
She grimaces. “The first chance I get, I’m burning all your old church dresses. They make you look like a grandma.”
I roll my eyes and she leans in closer. “Besides, if Clay’s been driving you nuts all week, I have just the dress that will turn the tables.”
I shake my head and chuckle. I may not have chosen the family I was born into, but I count my lucky stars to have Rosa on my side.
When I arrive at Emilia’s luxurious house the next evening, there are a handful of cars already lining the driveway. I adjust the sleeveless knee length dress Rosalee insisted I wear. Rosalee inherits all of her influencer boss’ designer discards. She tried to get me into stilettos, but I won that battle and paired the dress with sensible wedge sandals. I have to say I love the faux leather lapel of the dress. If I put a suit jacket over it, I could wear it to the office. With the right accessories, I would fit in at a rock concert. I might have to steal the versatile garment.
Emilia’s housekeeper opens the door for me and escorts me to the living room where men stand around in slacks and dress shirts, tie-less with their collars unbuttoned. I only recognize Dylan, Clay, and Paul, who stand in the doorway to the dining room. Clay has ditched his suit jacket, putting the gun in his shoulder holster on full display. His cool confidence is annoyingly attractive.
I can’t contain my grin when our eyes meet and he sputters on the sip of water he just took. His beautiful eyes take me in with open admiration, and it’s only then I realize how much I was hoping for his approval.
“Fiona. You look lovely,” Paul says. “I like your hair down.”
I catch the quick glare Clay aims at him. “Who knew you could clean up nice?” he says.
“Wish I could say the same for you.” I hate the way amusement sparkles in his eyes. It shouldn’t make my stomach flutter.
“Fiona! You made it,” Emilia calls, and I flip my hair over my shoulder and join her in the dining room. I catch Clay’s reflection in the windows and find his gaze glued to my ass. Eat your heart out.
“Thanks so much for inviting me,” I say as Emilia air kisses each of my cheeks.
“Of course. This is my husband, Xander. Have you met?”
I shake the man’s hand. “Never officially.”
“Well, it’s great to make it official,” he says. He’s almost two decades older than Emilia, but I see the appeal. His warm eyes and friendly personality are perks to the silver fox persona. Rumor has it he gave up his six-figure job to be with her. No woman in her right mind would reject that kind of devotion.
He keeps his hand on her lower back as he kisses her temple and whispers something. Her cheeks heat and she grins up at him with soft eyes. Pardon me while I swoon.
“If you’ll excuse me, Fiona. I have to make a call,” he says before leaving. I refrain from fanning my face. The man has swagger.
Emilia grins and shakes her head. “Can I confess something?”
“Sure.”
“I invited you because I wasn’t in the mood to be the only woman in the room. It gets old.”
I laugh. “I can imagine.”
She takes my hand and guides me to the living room. She introduces me and I do my best to act like it’s normal for me to meet high-level executives. Fake it till you make it.
When the chef lets us know dinner is ready, I end up in a seat next to Clay on the opposite end of the table from Emilia and her husband.
“Where’s Paul?” I ask when I notice he’s not at the table and there aren’t any empty seats.
“Emilia asked one of us to sit with you so you wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by strangers.”
“And you drew the short straw?”
He chuckles as servers set down the salad. “Believe it or not, I volunteered.”
“I don’t believe it, actually.” I pick up my napkin and place it in my lap.
He sighs and leans closer. “I’m sorry for being a dick.”
My eyebrows reach for the ceiling. “Did Dylan force you to apologize?”
He frowns and grabs his fork, staring at me for a moment before he takes a bite of his salad. “Can we try having a conversation without biting each other’s heads off?”
Rosalee’s words from yesterday float through my mind, and I lean back in my chair. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
He watches me again, his face neutral, and we return to eating in silence. They clear the plates and he leans over again, his voice low.
“Did you grow up in LA?”
I eye him for a moment. “Born and raised. Where are you from?”
“Arizona. Just outside of Phoenix. Are your parents in LA?”
I look away, fiddling with my napkin. I haven’t even considered dating or making new friends since my excommunication. How do you tell someone that you were part of a cult and your family abandoned you? I take a deep breath, reminding myself that this isn’t a date. Clay is just trying to get to know me as a colleague. I should want that too, considering we’ll be working together for at least the next few months. Maybe I don’t need to open the door for him, just crack it a little. I can do that.
“They are, but we don’t talk.”
He blinks. “Like at all?”
I shake my head. “We had a falling out about a year ago.”
The servers arrive with the second course and he stays silent. I glance around the table. The executives are all engaged in casual conversation. The atmosphere is relaxed, considering how much power sits in the room. They all ignore Clay and me, which is just as well.
“Can I ask what the falling out was over? Do they not like your boyfriend or something?”
I laugh and he smiles. It’s genuine. Not the cocky smirk I’m used to, and I can’t help but notice how it lights up his eyes.
“It’s complicated, but they chose someone else’s word over mine.”
His brows furrow as he chews and swallows. “They believed someone over their own daughter?”
I shrug. “Like I said. It’s complicated. What about you? Are your parents still in Arizona?”
He shrugs. “They’ve lived at the Garden Meadows cemetery for about a decade.”
I stare at him and he pauses, the fork halfway to his mouth. “This is fantastic.” He motions towards my untouched plate nonchalantly like he didn’t just tell me his parents are dead.
“I’m so sorry, Clay,” I whisper, resting my hand on his forearm. He stares at it for a long moment before he meets my gaze.
Something dark flickers across his features and his arrogant smirk makes an unwelcome return. “Spare me your pity.”
I yank my hand back like his arm is a hot stove. He resumes eating and I dive into my food, trying not to seethe. Serves me right for assuming there was a decent human being underneath the good looks.
Clay converses with the man next to him and I’m left to my own thoughts for the rest of the meal. Once they clear the dessert plates, Emilia invites us into the den where a few poker tables are set up. There’s even a full-service bar in the corner with a bartender mixing drinks.
I head straight over and ask for a glass of white wine. I’ve never played poker a day in my life, so I plan to make a polite exit as soon as my wine is gone.
A few men escape to the patio where they light up cigars. Clay stands off to the side, still talking with the man from dinner who seems closer to our age.
Emilia perks up and moves towards the arched doorway into the room where none other than the general of Infinitum’s Chosen Army, Elijah Davenport, stands. He’s wearing black slacks and a gray dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His collar is unbuttoned, and he pulls off casual sexy like no one else in the room. I swallow hard. Looks like I need a faster exit strategy.
“Eli, it’s so good to see you,” Emilia says, air kissing his cheeks like she did mine earlier. I wrack my brain for any reason why he would be here. He visits Edgar on occasion, but I wasn’t aware he was friendly enough with Emilia to get invited to her house. Then again, I’ve only met her a few times and I’m here.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says, returning her embrace. Xander even gives him a hug.
“I’m sure there are leftovers if you’re hungry.”
He smiles and shakes his head. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
I jump like a startled cat when Clay appears by my side out of thin air. How is he so stealthy?
He eyes Elijah, but speaks to me. “Everything okay?”
“Of course.” I force a laugh. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
He glances at my hand, but keeps watching Elijah as Emilia introduces him to the other execs. “You’re about to break your wine glass.”
I loosen my grip and heave a sigh. “Last I checked, you were Emilia’s bodyguard, not mine.”
“That’s Paul’s job.”
How did I miss the gigantic man watching from the doorway? He’s focused on Elijah like he’s a snake in the grass.
Emilia approaches, and I swallow my retort.
“Clay. Fiona. This is Elijah. He’s Edgar’s former son-in-law, and our newest employee.”
“Fiona Edgewater?” Elijah asks, ignoring Clay’s hard stare. I had hoped he wouldn’t remember me. We met at his wedding to Deanna, but there were hundreds of people there and our interaction lasted less than a minute.
I blink at him and nod. “Yes, Sir.”
The honorific pops out before I can stop it, but at least I didn’t call him general. He studies me like I’m some great puzzle. “It’s good to see you again,” he says.
“How do you know each other?” Emilia asks.
“She’s friends with my ex-wife,” Elijah says.
“Ex-friend of his ex-wife,” I clarify.
Emilia chuckles. “Deanna sure knows how to make enemies.”
Elijah and I both laugh and the awkwardness ebbs. Except for Clay, who watches with narrowed eyes.
“I forgot about your falling out. Trust me, it’s for the best.” He smiles at me and my shoulders drop. He just told me he knows about my excommunication, but he doesn’t care. What does that mean?
Elijah is the face of Infinitum. We all watched him climb the ranks like a rookie quarterback in the pros. Once he announced his divorce from Deanna, the Forum stirred like a beehive of speculation. Especially when he announced his engagement to none other than Skye Reilly a few months ago, and then its abrupt ending with her mysterious disappearance. Infinitum’s initial statement was that she needed to time to adjust to her new calling, but the Forum believes she got the fuck out when she realized how nuts everyone is. I’m not about to bring it up, though, as curious as I am. Just asking could bring unwanted attention to me and expose the Forum. I’d never put them in jeopardy just to satiate my curiosity.
When I only smile, he turns to Clay. They shake hands and exchange intense looks, but no words are spoken. Emilia leads him to the next group of people.
Clay watches them go, rubbing his jaw.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
He blinks and looks at me like he forgot I was standing there. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You’re about to crush your teeth with how hard you’re clenching your jaw.”
He chuckles, but the humor doesn’t reach his eyes. “Do you know what job he has at Reilly Tech?”
I shake my head. “I had no idea Emilia even knew him.”
He heaves a sigh and faces me. “I’m sorry about my comment at dinner. I was rude right after I asked you not to be. That was hypocritical of me.”
I shrug. “I guess I’m used to it by now.”
He frowns and rests his hand on my upper arm. His fingers on my naked skin cause goosebumps and that weird static returns. He opens his mouth to speak, then seconds guesses it before dropping his hand. “Excuse me.”
I watch him approach Paul and heave a sigh. This is going to be harder than I thought.