Chapter 17 Bitsy #4
Once seated, Bitsy found herself positioned directly between Wyatt’s massive, protective presence on her right and Lennon’s elegant, soft form on her left.
The moment she sat down, the familiar, expensive scent of white tea and strawberries drifted off Lennon’s clothes—the exact same comforting fragrance that had been infused into her wool coat.
"I hope you don't have any food allergies, Bitsy," Zane said, leaning back in his chair as he reached for a plate, flashing her a grin. "Because if you can't handle the tavern fries, Hudson over here is going to steal your portion."
"Hey! I am a growing boy, I need the carbs," Hudson protested with a loud laugh, making Vic roll his eyes affectionately beside him.
Wyatt turned his head, his dark eyes looking down at Bitsy. "Any allergies or aversions, Bitsy?"
"No, sir," she said softly. "I can eat anything."
Without another word, Wyatt reached out, grabbing a heavy ceramic plate from the center stack.
He used the silver tongs to place a massive, perfectly grilled cheeseburger onto the center of her plate, then proceeded to stack a huge, mountain-like pile of seasoned fries beside it.
It was a massive portion—easily twice what she would normally purchase for herself—but before she could protest, Lennon smoothly reached across the table, grabbing a handful of ketchup packets and sliding them onto the edge of Bitsy's placemat.
"You're going to want at least four of these," Lennon said sweetly, tearing one open for herself. "The tavern seasoning has a little bit of a kick to it."
"Thank you," Bitsy said, a genuine wave of gratitude settling into her chest. She tore open the packets, squeezing the contents onto her plate before dipping a hot fry in and taking a bite. It was incredible—savory, hot, and completely satisfying.
As the meal progressed, the anxiety that had tightly gripped her chest since seven a.m. began to slowly, systematically unravel.
The men didn't press her with intense, interrogative security questions; instead, the conversation flowed naturally around her.
Hudson and Vic argued playfully about the office decor pipeline, while Silas and Zane discussed a high-level municipal zoning contract with a quiet, professional efficiency.
Every now and then, Hudson would throw a joke her way, or Lennon would ask her about her comfort level with the office setup, ensuring she was completely included in the rhythm of the room.
For the first time in months, Bitsy didn't feel like a stray hiding in the shadows; she felt welcome.
"We’re heading out in the next hour," Wyatt said as the lunch hour wound down, his deep voice cutting through the ambient chatter as he looked down at her empty plate.
"Yes, sir," she nodded in agreement.
They returned to their private office, and Bitsy immediately logged back into her workstation the second the wellness timer cleared.
She utilized the code to drown out the rest of the world, her analytical mind spinning as she mapped out the final parameters of the expansion grid traffic logs, working diligently until Wyatt’s large shadow fell across her desk.
"Log off, Bitsy," Wyatt instructed levelly. "It's time to head out."
She tapped out her final commands, closing the secure server layers and starting to gather her notebook and laptop bag.
"Leave the hardware," Wyatt said, his voice carrying that steady, absolute weight. "We will be back later this afternoon to wrap up the diagnostics. You don't need to carry the weight right now."
She nodded, leaving the digital files secure on the desktop and simply grabbing her small purse instead.
As they stepped out of the office and walked back toward the private elevator banks, a door down the corridor clicked open, and Lennon stepped out into the hallway. In her hands, she held the familiar, heavy black wool overcoat.
"Bitsy, wait!" Lennon called out, hurrying down the carpet runner toward them.
She stopped directly in front of Bitsy, extending the heavy coat toward her with a firm, unyielding expression.
"You forgot something. It is absolutely freezing outside, and a cotton blazer is not going to cut it in a Bridgeport wind shift. Take it."
Bitsy stabilized her posture, her defensive independence flaring instantly. "Oh, Lennon, thank you, but I really can't take your coat again—"
"It's not an option, sweetie," Lennon interrupted smoothly, her voice sweet but carrying a distinct, soft authority that mirrored the structure of the men around them. "Wyatt will just end up giving you his anyway, and then he'll be grumpy all afternoon. Seriously, please take it."
Bitsy looked up at Wyatt, but his expression was completely set, his arms crossed as he gave her a single, definitive nod. Realizing she was completely outmatched by the sheer protective gravity of the room, she offered a soft, quiet thank you and slid her arms into the silk-lined sleeves.
The heavy, luxurious warmth of the wool enveloped her immediately, smelling faintly of Lennon's comforting white tea perfume. It shielded her completely, turning the walk down the elevator and out through the rear executive exit into a perfectly comfortable transition rather than a brutal ordeal.
“Thank you,” she said with a soft smile.
Lennon gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before heading back into her office.
Wyatt led her through the secure executive lot, unlocking a massive, pristine black SUV with a soft chirp of the key fob.
He opened the passenger door for her, waiting until she was completely settled into the heated leather seat before he closed it securely, walking around the hood to slide into the driver's seat.
The engine roared to life with a deep, flawless purr, a stark contrast to the rough rattle of her own car. Wyatt pulled the vehicle out of the lot, steering them smoothly down the icy streets of the residential district.
The drive was quiet, the high-end suspension absorbing the rough layout of the winter roads. Bitsy stared out the window, her analytical mind trying to map out the route, but she was entirely clueless as to what specific corporate asset they were actually evaluating.
Ten minutes later, the SUV pulled into the pristine courtyard of an ultra-modern, luxury high-rise building. The exterior was a fortress of glass and dark stone, complete with a security concierge gate that opened automatically as they approached the gate.
They parked in a secure, subterranean garage, and Wyatt guided her directly toward a private residential elevator bank. He scanned a sleek black keycard wallet against the sensor, and the car rose silently, lifting them all the way to the eleventh floor.
The doors slid open to a dead-quiet, beautifully carpeted hallway. Wyatt walked down to the end of the hall, stopping before a heavy, polished door marked 1104. He pulled the black keycard from his pocket, touched it to the electronic lock, and the mechanism cleared with a solid, heavy click.
He pushed the door open, stepping back to let her go in before him.
Bitsy stepped across the threshold, her breath catching slightly in her throat as she took in the space.
The apartment was absolutely stunning. It was fully furnished and expansive, boasting floor-to-ceiling windows that flooded the main living area with soft, natural afternoon light.
The furniture was minimalist and high-end—a light blue sofa, a beautiful dark wood dining set, and an open-concept kitchen featuring marble countertops and professional-grade appliances.
The air inside was completely warm, smelling faintly of rich cedar and crisp linen.
“Wow," Bitsy murmured, taking a few steps into the center of the living room, her eyes tracking the beautiful layout.
She turned back to face Wyatt, who was closing the heavy door securely behind him, his massive frame completely dominating the entryway.
"The security perimeter on this structure is incredible, sir. The access matrix is entirely top-tier.”
Wyatt didn't move from the door. He leaned back against the heavy wood paneling, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a profound, unyielding gravity that made the room feel suddenly very small.
"I'm glad you approve of the layout, Bitsy," Wyatt said, his baritone voice dropping into a low, terrifyingly steady register that left absolutely no room for escape. "Because this isn't a company asset evaluation. This is your apartment. This is where you are going to be living from now on."
Bitsy froze, her heart instantly leaping into her throat as his words echoed through the silent space of the luxury room.