Maybe he's going to come here to kill her son.
I'm good at a lot of things. Running fast, wooing donors, running a nonprofit.
Defending a woman and her child against a violent man?
Not so much.
"Until we find a better option," I say.
Her shoulders fall.
"And only if I bring in extra security."
"You trust them?"
"Yes." Xavier is one of the few people I trust completely.
Him, Lee, and Dad.
Dad knows danger, but he's too old to stand guard. And he's like me.
He's too close.
It's not smart.
"Are you sure you don't want to come to the office?" I ask. "It's more secure."
She shakes her head.
"You'll have to stay inside until I'm home tonight."
"It's not a problem."
If she got here okay, she should be safe. As long as she stays out of sight. "Keep the blinds down. Stay away from the windows. It's a small place, but you're welcome to the couch."
She nods.
"There's food in the fridge," I say. "I get a meal delivery service. There should be a week of dinners. I can pick up something on my way home. Take out. Or if there's anything you need for Seb. I don't host babies."
"I have everything I need."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Thank you, Vanessa. I don't know how I could possibly repay you."
I want to ask her to promise she'll never go back to him, but I know better. "Stay safe. That's how."
She nods of course.
I don't know why I believe her, believe this is the best option, but I do. "If you need anything—" I scribble my number on a Post-it note. Leave it on the table.
Then I get ready, and I leave her in my apartment.
I try to focus on work, but it weighs on my mind.
Who the hell told her to find me?
Chapter Sixteen
VANESSA
All day, I struggle to focus. When I ask the front desk what time Xavier arrives. During lunch with a donor. After I tell Regina to secure space for a high-profile client.
It's not what we do officially.
But we don't turn anyone away unless they're dangerous. We always send them to someone else who can help.
And we can help Celine. Whether it's our normal resources—job training, counseling, assistance in finding housing or employment—or something out of the ordinary.
It doesn't surprise me to see an elegant Upper East Side woman on the run. But it is close to home.
My mother and I didn't come from money, but we were always close to it. There were a few years after she left when we stayed in shelters and shitty apartments.
Then she met Daddy, and we fell right into his big, beautiful world.
Celine's world.
Simon's world.
She's the kind of woman he marries in my head.
Quiet and demure.
Understanding of her station.
Beautiful.
Did she believe she married someone like Simon? Someone rich, powerful, protective.
Someone who had enough money and power to lavish her with love.
Only he didn't use his resources to keep her safe.
He used them to hurt her. To hide it.
To scare her lover.
Maybe even kill him.
It's not as common as it is on TV. Murder is a step too far for most. Especially premeditated murder.
But something about her voice—
No. It's me. My history. What I wish happened to my father.
I need to pass this to Regina. She knows what to do. How to help. How to counsel Celine to make the best choice.
I send her another email, check on Xavier, finish an hour of work, look up tips on entertaining babies.
But I have no idea how old her son is.
I need to find calm, clarity, peace.
Normally, work soothes me.
Today, I'm too close.
I can't break for a run. I don't want to tally the week's calories in my head. But then I have another way to pause.
A shiny distraction. A man who sets my senses on fire.
After I fix a cup of tea, I grab my cell to text Simon.
But he's already beat me to it.
Simon: Did you make it home?
Vanessa: Are you checking on me?
Simon: If I am?
My stomach flutters. A lightness.
For a second, I feel guilty.
There are too many pressing concerns.
A million items on my to-do list.
A thousand emails to send.
A woman in my house with nowhere else to turn.
And I'm flirting with my fuck buddy.
But I need this. I need the lightness. I need relief.
Vanessa: It suits you.
Simon: Should I take that as a yes?
Vanessa: You bought me pajamas.
Simon: I did.
Vanessa: But not a change of clothes. I rode home in last night's dress.
Simon: I'm imagining it now.
Vanessa: Which part?
Simon: You didn't wear anything under it.
Vanessa: I took my panties off in the bathroom at the hotel. They were in my purse.
Simon: I'll remember it my way.
My lips curl into a smile. My stomach flutters. Simon Pierce is imagining me naked under my dress.
He's thinking dirty thoughts about me.
He's so fucking sexy.
And I don't care that it's wrong. Not now.
Vanessa: Did you wear the same thing home?