Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Nicolette
Two million dollars.
So what if he’s as dangerous as they say?
So what if he is obsessive or whatever? He’s willing to pay me that much money for one weekend.
A little voice in my head that warns me not to do stupid shit whispers there’s a catch, but he’s already said there isn’t.
And after what I’ve been through and what I’ve done, I’ve gotten really good at silencing that little voice.
Instead, I use the voice of logic and reason to convince myself this is going to work.
So what if maybe I looked up his net worth when I took a quick bathroom break? Suffice it to say, Fabien Gerard isn’t going to miss that money. Hell, I’m here for it. Caviar, champagne, a home in Paris I can go to for the weekend?
Too good to be true.
My mother always said, as the saying goes, if something seems too good to be true, then it probably is. But don’t I deserve something to go my way for once?
I know that if my own voice of reason doesn’t win out, the other girls will have something to say about this, so it seems the proper course of action under these circumstances is to maybe avoid talking to the girls.
So I take the roundabout way to get to my room. I grab my phone to shoot a quick text to my sister, when I notice two little notifications. Disappointment settles in my belly when I see neither of them are from him.
Gwen:
Hey, how are you today?
Cosette:
Hey, I went up to your room to check on you but you weren’t here. Where are you? You okay?
I won’t answer them until I’m far enough away they can’t talk me out of this. Still, I feel guilty as hell.
I type a message to my sister. Since she goes to school in Boston, I’m six hours ahead of her.
Me:
Hey, Savannah. I’ve got some good news! I got a job this weekend that will put me right over the edge for my savings goal. Girl, I’m coming home sooner than we planned. WOOT!
Savannah:
Oooooh. OMG I am so excited!!
Me:
Right? I can’t wait to be back home with you.
Savannah:
Same! YESSSSS! What’s the job??
I pause. I will never tell her what it is I do. Ever.
Me:
Oh, just some consulting work.
Savannah:
Yayyyyy
I reach my door as my phone buzzes with another text. Hope soars, then plummets again when I realize it isn’t him.
What the hell.
What’s going on with me?
My pulse races when I put my key in the lock.
I can’t forget what happened yesterday. My throat tightens when I realize my sanctuary—the one place I go to so I can be safe—is gone.
Yes, this is the place where I do my business.
Yes, I work hard at keeping it impeccably clean and comfortable for guests.
But it is my home, and now something that mattered to me has been stolen.
I clench my fists at the thought. Some asshole tried to violate me. He took advantage of me. He would have assaulted me and taken what didn’t belong to him in a way that might have scarred me forever.
And Fabien—no matter what they say about him—was the one who sought justice on my behalf.
And that matters.
I’m glad I’m taking a break. I’m glad I’m getting away. And no matter what, I will grin and bear it and make damn sure that I earn this money.
I ignore the way my hands quake when I go to open the door. He isn’t here. The guy who tried to hurt me is probably dead if my friends are to be believed. Still, I wish I’d taken someone with me when I came back here for the first time.
I push open the door. It’s dark in here, but a light, flowery fragrance nips the air. What is it?
I flick the light on and gasp.
Oh my God.
The entire living room table overflows with stunning pink roses. They’re gorgeous, large layers of silky petals clustered in vibrant pink swirls. I walk unsteadily toward them. What if this was a mistake? What if they delivered these to the wrong room?
How did they get in here? I look over my shoulder, but I’m still all alone. Did… how… there’s only one way to find out.
I reach for the little heart-shaped card with scalloped edges.
A little something to brighten up your room with an apology for what happened earlier. ~Fabien
What happened earlier? Does he regret asking me to go with him? My heart gives a great lurch when I realize that he wants to take it back.
No. No, no, no! I just decided I would go for this, that I would earn that money.
Why would he change his mind? And why on earth would he send me flowers to apologize?
He doesn’t want me after all.
My nose tingles, and my eyes burn. I thought I’d gotten over the searing pain of rejection, but I was wrong.
I take out my phone. I have his cell phone number… The logical voice in the back of my head tells me to wait, not to act irrationally, that I need this money. But I ignore it and swipe open my texts.
Still nothing from him, and I’m not sure why that bothers me because he doesn’t owe me anything.
Me:
The flowers are lovely, but I’m not sure why you regret asking me to go with you. Are you no longer interested, then? I guess I shouldn’t pack my bag. I’m not sure why you are so regretful, but I’ll have you know I’m not a fan of being toyed with.
He responds almost instantly.
Monsieur:
What are you talking about?
Huh. What?
I look down and notice a few petals on the table. Did they fall earlier? I wasn’t home last night…
Wait. When did he send these?
I pick up the card again and notice yesterday’s date.
Ah, okay. Wow. He sent these yesterday. After the incident. The apology, then, was because of the assault.
Me:
Oops. Forget I said anything.
Ugh. Lame.
Monsieur:
I don’t think so. We’ll talk about this later.
Oh, will we?
I clench my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut and wish I could shake myself. I can’t let my pride get in the way.
I can’t.
I have to do this.
Ugh, what is going on here? I need to get my shit together because I need this money. I need this deal. I can’t go messing this up because I’m getting ahead of myself.
I shove my phone in my pocket, grab a bag, and start packing. It takes a few minutes before my hands stop shaking.
I want to get out of here before anyone can talk me out of this.
Thirty minutes later, I text Fabien.
Me:
I’m ready.
Monsieur:
Good girl. Let’s go. I’m sending up my men to get your bags and escort you while I secure a car.
I have mixed feelings about the “good girl.” Sometimes, clients decide to be patronizing, and it annoys the hell out of me.
I don’t know, though. There’s something different about Fabien.
It doesn’t feel patronizing at all, but natural.
As if he and I are meant to have these roles, only I’m not even sure what our roles are yet.
It’s as if I’m seeing only one side of him, a small part he’s chosen to reveal. Like an iceberg submerged under water, his true purpose is hidden beneath cold, dark depths. What will happen when I draw too close? Will I crash into what’s below the surface and sink to my death?
I start at the sound of a knock at the door. Minutes later, I’m escorted downstairs, uniformed guards holding my bags and the door for me.
I don’t care what anyone else says. I feel like a V.I.P. I’ve gotten the backstage pass.
I walk quickly so I don’t draw attention. I don’t need a lecture from any of the girls right now, though a part of me feels like I’m sneaking around behind their backs. When they find out, will they feel as if I betrayed them? They’re the only friends I have in this entire world.
The door to the elevator glides open. I glance around the lobby to see Gwen standing beside Fabien by the front desk. They’re having a heated conversation.
Dammit.
Gwen turns to me. “There you are. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. My phone’s mysteriously on the fritz.” She gives Fabien a pointed look. What’s that all about?
“Oh, really? What’s up?”
Gwen rolls her eyes dramatically and flips her hair. “What’s up? You know what’s up. You were assaulted yesterday, and I wanted to check on you. Not to mention the fact that Monsieur just told me you’re leaving.”
I nod. I don’t trust my voice.
“I’d like to talk to you privately,” she says warmly. “Please, Nicolette.”
I glance at Monsieur, not to ask for permission but to see his reaction. “We have time,” he says, after a glance at his watch.
I nod and step to the side with Gwen as his men walk with him to the exit, my bags in tow. Gwen grabs my hand and yanks me to her.
“What’s going on?” For one moment, she’s dropped the brazen attitude and looks almost… scared. “Are you okay? Are you under duress? You can tell me, Nicolette. I hope you trust me by now.”
My throat tickles. “Of course I do,” I whisper. “It’s fine. I promise. He’s been nothing but a gentleman.”
“Of course he has,” she says. A deep furrow knits her brow.
“That’s what he’ll do. He’ll give you all the attention you want.
” She looks over her shoulder, but we’re all alone here.
“It’s just that… he’s not going to let you go.
You can’t just… date, or flirt, or have a brief deal or anything like that.
It isn’t like that with him. He’ll become obsessed with you.
He won’t let you out of his sight. He’ll…
” She looks around us again. “You’ll be the most important person in his universe. And it might feel nice at first…”
At first? What woman wouldn’t want to be the most important person in a rich guy’s universe? The more she talks, the more she convinces me I’ve made the right decision.
“Listen, he made me an offer, Gwen.” My voice wavers. “I need that money. It’ll mean I can leave here so much sooner than I ever planned.”
She looks pained, but she nods. “I don’t want to take that away from you.”
“Then don’t.” I don’t mean for my tone to be so harsh. I swallow and look away, suddenly teary. “I’ll be okay,” I promise her. “And if I need help, you’ll be the first person I call.”
“Nicolette?” Fabien’s deep voice carries across the lobby. Even though it’s my name he’s called, he’s got everyone’s attention. Dressed in a suit with his arms across his chest, I can see why. He’s intimidating as hell.