The Contract (The Contract 1)

“I need to ask something of you. In doing so, I will be placing a huge amount of trust in your discretion. I need to know you will honor my trust.”

I blinked at him. He wanted to ask me something? He wasn’t firing me? A small shudder of relief flowed through me; my body relaxed a little.

“Of course, sir. Whatever I can do.”

His eyes locked on mine. I had never noticed how the colors swirled in his eyes under the lights—a mixture of gray, green, and blue. Often they were so dark with anger, I never held his gaze for more than a second or two. He seemed to study me for a moment, then nodded.

He reached for one of his cards and wrote something on the back, handing it to me.

“I need you to come to this address this evening. Can you be there at seven?”

I glanced at the card, noting the address wasn’t far from the home where I would visit Penny after work. To get there by seven, however, my stay would have to be short.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, his voice void of the usual hostility.

I lifted my gaze to his and decided to be honest. “I have an appointment after work. I’m not sure I can make it for seven.”

I expected his ire. For him to sweep his hand in the air, and demand I cancel whatever plans I had and be where he needed me to be at seven. I was shocked when he only shrugged.

“Seven-thirty? Eight? Can you work with that?”

“Seven-thirty would be doable.”

“Fine. I’ll see you at seven-thirty.” He rose to his feet, indicating this strange meeting was over. “I’ll make sure my doorman knows you’ll be arriving. He’ll send you up right away.”

It was all I could do not to gasp. His doorman? He was asking me to his home?

I stood up, disconcerted. “Mr. VanRyan, is everything all right?”

He regarded me with a strange look on his face. “With your cooperation, it will be, Miss Elliott.” He glanced at his watch. “Now, excuse me, I have a one o’clock meeting to attend.”

He picked up his mug. “Thank you for the coffee and your time.”

He left me staring after him, wondering if I had entered an alternate universe.

Never once in the year I worked for him had he ever said thank you to me.

What the hell was going on?KATHARINE

I STOOD ACROSS THE STREET from Mr. VanRyan’s building, staring up at the tall structure. It was intimidating and spoke of wealth—all tinted glass and concrete looming over the city, reminding me of the man who lived within it. Cold, remote, unreachable. I shivered a little as I looked at it, wondering why I was there.

The building was about a ten-minute walk from the home, and I was on time. It hadn’t been a good visit with Penny today; she had been upset and agitated, refusing to eat or talk to me, and I ended up leaving early. I was disappointed. She had been good all week, and I had hoped today would be the same; that I’d be able to talk with her as we used to, but it hadn’t happened. Instead, it just added to my stressful, odd day. I left the home feeling despondent, and unsure as to why I was going to see Mr. VanRyan.

Mr. VanRyan.

He had already confused me asking me to his home this evening. His behavior the rest of the afternoon proved to be equally bizarre. When he returned from his meeting, he asked me for another coffee and a sandwich.

Asked me!

He didn’t demand, he didn’t sneer or slam his door. Instead, he stopped in front of my desk and politely requested lunch. He even said thank you. Again. He hadn’t come out of his office the rest of the day until he left, when he stopped, asking if I had his card. At my murmured, “Yes,” he nodded his thanks and left, not slamming the door.

I was beyond puzzled, nerves taut, and my stomach in knots. I had no idea what I was doing at his home, much less why.

I inhaled a calming breath. There was only one way to find out. I straightened my shoulders, and crossed the street.

Mr. VanRyan opened his door, and I tried not to stare. I had never seen him look this casual. Gone was the tailored suit and crisp white shirt he favored. In its place, he wore a long-sleeved, thermal shirt and jeans, and his feet were bare. For some reason, I wanted to giggle at his long toes, but I tamped down the odd reaction. He indicated for me to come in, stepped back, allowing me to pass. He took my coat, and we stood staring at each other. I’d never seen him look uncomfortable. He gripped the back of his neck, clearing his throat.