I Was Just Doing My Job

Chapter 1

"Here's one fifty thousand dollars. Leave my son's company."

The elegant woman sitting across from Emma Carter slid a check across the table.

Emma's hand moved before her brain did.

She grabbed it.

Her eyes immediately lit up.

Fifty thousand dollars.

A fifty thousand.

You didn't hesitate when someone put that much money in front of you.

That would be disrespectful to the money.

The older woman's eyebrow twitched.

"You don't have anything to ask me?"

Emma looked up.

"Of course I do."

The woman leaned back, clearly expecting something more meaningful.

"You may ask one question."

Emma glanced at the check.

"Can I deposit this today?"

Silence.

The woman stared at her.

Emma stared back.

Neither of them moved.

Finally, the woman asked, "That's your question?"

Emma nodded.

"Yes."

For some reason, the woman looked disappointed.

Emma couldn't understand why.

A check was a serious matter.

You had to make sure it was real before you started mentally spending it.

The woman took a slow breath.

"You really don't want to know why I'm suddenly terminating our arrangement?"

Emma tilted her head.

"Oh. That."

She immediately put on a curious expression.

"Why?"

The woman seemed slightly more satisfied.

Finally.

Some normal human curiosity.

"This arrangement began more than a year ago."

Back then, Emma had been an intern in the executive office of Mercer Holdings.

She had been broke, exhausted, and desperately in need of money.

Then Adrian Mercer's mother had approached her.

She had gotten straight to the point.

"I know you need money. I'll pay you five thousand dollars a month. In return, keep an eye on my son."

Emma had listened.

"Tell me how he's doing at the company. Who he meets. What he does. Anything important."

Anything important had quickly turned into everything.

Adrian Mercer was the eldest son of the Mercer family.

He had spent several years abroad before his father finally brought him home and threw him into the family business.

His father wanted him to prove that he was capable of running the company.

No special treatment.

No shortcuts.

And absolutely no interference from his mother.

Mrs. Mercer was allowed to visit the company twice a month.

That was all.

Her husband had even made the stakes painfully clear.

"If he can't handle the company, he doesn't inherit it."

There were plenty of other people waiting for the opportunity.

Including several illegitimate children from outside the marriage.

Mrs. Mercer wasn't about to let that happen.

But she couldn't openly challenge her husband.

So she needed someone inside the company.

Someone young.

Someone discreet.

Someone who desperately needed money.

Emma had been the perfect candidate.

She had accepted immediately.

There was just one problem.

If she suddenly started paying unusual attention to Adrian, people would notice.

And if Adrian's father discovered that his wife had someone spying on their son, things could get ugly.

So they needed a cover.

Something believable.

Something that would explain why Emma was always around Adrian.

That was how Emma became Adrian Mercer's most devoted admirer.

At least, that's what everyone believed.

Before they signed the agreement, Mrs. Mercer had looked Emma directly in the eyes.

"Do your job and nothing more. And don't fall in love with my son."

She had paused.

"You come from completely different worlds. There is no future between you."

Emma had practically raised her hand and sworn an oath.

"Don't worry. That will never happen."

Mrs. Mercer hadn't believed her.

Her son was young.

Handsome.

Rich.

And painfully aware of all three facts.

He had barely turned twenty when women from several wealthy families were already being mentioned as potential marriage prospects.

So Mrs. Mercer assumed Emma would eventually fall for him.

If she did, she'd simply replace her.

There were plenty of girls who would happily take the job.

What Mrs. Mercer hadn't expected was how incredibly good Emma would be at it.

For more than a year, Emma had sent her daily reports.

Important meetings?

Reported.

New clients?

Reported.

Business trips?

Reported.

What Adrian had for lunch?

Reported.

How many times he'd disappeared into the restroom?

Reported.

How long he stayed?

Also reported.

Emma even created spreadsheets.

8:12 a.m. — Arrived at headquarters.

8:20 a.m. — Coffee.

9:00 a.m. — Meeting with investment team.

12:38 p.m. — Lunch.

1:06 p.m. — Bathroom.

1:14 p.m. — Returned.

Mrs. Mercer had a complete picture of her son's day.

And strangely enough, Emma's presence seemed to have another effect.

Adrian used to spend a lot of time partying.

Dating.

Going out.

Now?

He barely seemed interested in women at all.

He was completely focused on the company.

Mrs. Mercer considered that a success.

Emma considered it excellent customer service.

Now, however, the arrangement was ending.

Emma could tell Mrs. Mercer wanted her to be curious.

And Emma was very good at giving clients what they wanted.

Even former clients.

You never knew when a satisfied client might recommend you to someone else.

Reputation mattered.

So Emma looked at Mrs. Mercer with the appropriate amount of interest.

"Why are you terminating the arrangement?"

Mrs. Mercer's expression softened slightly.

"My son has done exceptionally well."

She lifted her chin.

"My husband has decided to give him full control of the company."

Emma nodded.

That made sense.

"There's another reason."

Mrs. Mercer paused.

"Adrian is getting married."

Emma blinked.

Oh.

That explained the check.

"The woman's family will investigate my son's personal life. Your presence would become a liability."

She pushed the check toward Emma.

"This is your severance payment. Once you leave, you will not return to the company."

Her voice became colder.

"And you will never tell anyone about our arrangement."

The word liability didn't bother Emma.

Neither did the implication that she was somehow embarrassing.

She had just been handed fifty thousand dollars.

That was considerably more interesting.

"Understood."

Emma stood and picked up her handbag.

"I'll submit my resignation on Monday. I'll finish the handover and leave."

She smiled.

"Congratulations to Adrian."

Then she walked out.

The moment the café door closed behind her, Emma's steps became lighter.

Finally.

Freedom.

No more Adrian Mercer.

No more pretending to be hopelessly in love with that arrogant man.

No more daily spreadsheets.

No more memorizing his schedule.

She suddenly had a ridiculous amount of free time.

Maybe she'd find another client.

If she couldn't, she could finally finish her graduation project.

Either way, she had enough money to breathe for a while.

Inside the café, Mrs. Mercer watched her disappear through the window.

Her temple twitched.

"She really doesn't care about my son?"

That couldn't be right.

Her son was Adrian Mercer.

He was young, handsome, wealthy, and practically engineered to make women lose their common sense.

Yet Emma had walked away without so much as a backward glance.

Mrs. Mercer was still trying to understand what had happened when—

The café door suddenly opened.

Emma rushed back inside.

Mrs. Mercer straightened.

Ah.

Regret.

She knew it.

Emma looked genuinely distressed.

"Mrs. Mercer!"

She pointed at the table.

"You forgot to sign the check!"

Mrs. Mercer:

"......"

Emma happily took it.

"Thank you!"

Then she disappeared again.

Mrs. Mercer sat there in silence.

She had never met anyone like this girl.

Emma really was gone this time.

She even took three pastries with her on the way out.

After depositing the check into her bank account, Emma rushed home.

She showered.

Did her makeup.

Changed into a dress.

Then checked her phone.

Her smile disappeared.

The message had been sent ten minutes ago.

"Oh, crap."

Why was Lawrence here?

More importantly—

Why was he personally picking her up?

Lawrence Vance was not known for his patience.

Emma grabbed her bag and hurried downstairs.

A black Mercedes-Maybach was waiting outside her apartment building.

The rear window was lowered slightly.

She couldn't see the man inside.

Only one elegant hand rested against the window.

A cigarette burned between his fingers.

Emma opened the opposite rear door and slipped inside.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Vance. Did I keep you waiting?"

Lawrence Vance was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit.

Tall.

Broad-shouldered.

Sharp-featured.

The kind of man who looked expensive even when he was doing absolutely nothing.

His expression was cold enough to freeze water.

Emma immediately felt the chill.

For a second, she understood exactly why romance novels described angry CEOs as human air conditioners.

Then the driver spoke.

"Would you like me to turn the AC up, ma'am?"

Emma blinked.

"Oh."

So it was actually the air conditioning.

She relaxed.

"I'm fine."

The driver was a quiet man named Mark.

Lawrence made a small gesture.

"Leave it."

Emma sat back.

Lawrence didn't look at her.

That was fine.

She was a professional.