Jackson cleared his throat. “You’re smiling.”
Derrick refused to play this game. “She’s…interesting.”
“This engagement thing is fake, right?”
“Of course.”
“Right.” Jackson exhaled. “That explains the stupid look on your face whenever you see her.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The DC Insider: Visits to the prestigious Hay-Adams. Visits to his office. It appears Ms. Ellie Gold has not only snagged our Hottest Ticket in Town’s attention but also has him spinning in circles. Well done, Ellie!
He had to be kidding. That thought kept running through Ellie’s mind as she paged through Derrick’s ten—no, fourteen-page agreement while sitting on her couch the next morning.
The thing had tiny print, and rules, and footnotes to new rules and references to yet more rules. The list of restrictions seemed endless. She couldn’t date anyone else. He had final approval over the people she saw on a friendly basis during the “term of their arrangement” and over any work plans she intended to pursue.
She had to act loving, whatever that meant. He hadn’t used the word obey but it was implied in almost every line. And that wasn’t even the most ridiculous part. He thought they’d live together. Actually live together.
She glanced around her small apartment, from one stack of empty boxes to another. She had savings but that would run out if she didn’t find a new job and a cheaper place to live soon. That would be easier if her jackass of an ex-boss hadn’t launched an offensive strike when she filed her internal complaint and fired her first, insisting she came on to him. As if that would ever happen.
The man’s wife had left town to watch over a sick aunt and he’d had his hands all over her by the next day. Kicking him in the crotch had felt great, but being escorted out of the building hadn’t.
His claims were nonsense. He had resources and family money…and a nasty reputation that people spoke about only in whispers and refused to confirm in public. She had documentation of the emails she’d sent after the incident and her complaint. No witnesses to what happened, unfortunately, but she guessed they’d be able to find a pattern of other women once they started digging.
Her lawyer was positive about her chances but cases cost money. She got that but employers weren’t exactly lining up to hire a supposed human resources expert who had been fired for making a play for her boss. She could not let this go. Not when it was likely he would do this to someone else.
Thinking about Joe touched off that familiar spiraling sensation in her stomach. That mix of panic and worry. She liked to eat and have electricity. Which led her to the convoluted mess of an agreement on her lap.
Derrick’s plan struck her as so odd. She had no idea if wealthy people usually did stuff like this, but she didn’t.
She picked up her mug of now-cool tea and prepared to read through the agreement one more time. The doorbell stopped her in the middle of what looked like a never-ending sentence of legalese gobbledygook.
Grumbling, she put down the mug and stood. Slipping her feet into her fluffy pink slippers, she shuffled across the floor. That took about ten seconds since she lived in a studio.
When the doorbell rang again, she skipped her usual check in the mirror by the door. Anyone this impatient deserved to be greeted with the full hair-sliding-out-of-the-ponytail style she had going on.
She peeked through the peephole and froze. Oh, no, no, no.
He was here. Now. At her house.
“Open up, Ellie.” Derrick’s deep voice floated through the door.
She tried not to make a sound.
He sighed loud enough to shake the building. “I can see your shadow under the door.”
“Fine.” She performed the perfect eye roll as she undid the lock. “What?”
He started talking before she fully opened the door. “It’s eleven.”
“I own a clock.” Though she guessed she looked as if she didn’t own a brush. She could practically feel the tangles in her hair without touching it. Add in the shorts and oversize sweater that functioned as her pajamas and she was positive she made quite the picture.
“Are you sure?” His gaze wandered over her and stopped on her slippers. “Those are an unexpected choice.”
“Imagine me kicking you with them.” She stepped to the side and let him in. Why fight it? He was not exactly the type to scamper off.
He slipped past her, smelling all fresh and clean. Today’s suit was navy blue and fit him, slid over every inch of him, perfectly.
He walked to the center of the room then turned around to face her. “You were supposed to be in my office at ten.”