His Love

At that moment, I was more grateful than ever that Blair was an open book to me. She was trying not to be negative, but I could see the annoyance in the downturn of her mouth.

“So, the birth control pills aren’t for him?” I blurted. Well shit. Nice going Justice.

Blair’s eyes became so big they almost swallowed her face, and she blushed so hard her skin was practically tomato red. “How did you…?”

“Answer the question,” I cut her off; needing an answer.

Her eyes darted away, and she bit her bottom lip as she fidgeted, twisting her fingers around each other. “No.”

“Who?” I prompted sternly.

“Nobody, I mean it was just in case…”

My gaze bored into hers, and she looked back at me with uncertainty. “In case?” I queried.

“I’m going to be eighteen at the end of the month,” she explained hesitantly. “I thought maybe…” She was studying my face intently and for the first time, I couldn’t discern what she was thinking from her expression or stance. It was unsettling, and I hated it. “Never mind,” she said, her shoulders slumping.

Before I could say anything else, Paul strode into the room. “What’s for dinner, sweet pea?” He stopped when he saw me and regarded me with confusion. “Justice. Did we have an appointment?” Paul was a great guy, but he was the epitome of the absent-minded professor. He was the dean over the school of music at The Juilliard School, but he came from family money, which was how he and Blair lived like they did. Despite his wealthy upbringing, he freely admitted that he had no clue how to manage his inheritance. I’d been handling his investments, working alongside his money manager, since I bought the building and moved into the penthouse across the hall. I didn’t deal with smaller accounts anymore with only a few exceptions, Paul being one of them. I did it as much for Blair as my friendship with her father.

“No, Paul. I just needed to have a word with Blair. I wanted to offer my car and driver to get her from school to her internship and home.”

Blair frowned but didn’t have a chance to say anything before Paul smiled widely and nodded emphatically. “That’s a generous offer, Justice. Normally, I wouldn’t take you up on something bound to inconvenience you, but I do worry about my sweet pea coming home all the way from Wall Street in the evenings.”

Blair rolled her eyes. “I’ve been getting around this city by myself since I was ten, Daddy. I don’t think—” I cut her a warning look, and she shut her mouth.

“Still, can’t be too careful.” Paul walked over to Blair and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, then kissed her temple. After a moment, his eyes shifted back in my direction. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

“I’m sure he’s far too busy,” Blair interjected. My stomach chose that moment to emit another hungry rumble.

Paul laughed uproariously and beckoned me in their direction before turning towards the dining room. “I’m sure a bachelor like you rarely has a home cooked meal, and my Blair is a whiz in the kitchen. I don’t know how I’d survive without her.”

I clamped my jaw together to keep from informing him that he would need to solve that mystery by the end of the month or starve.

“I’ll set another place,” Blair murmured before disappearing into the kitchen.

There was something I had to do before I could relax and enjoy the meal. I glanced at the kitchen; then gave Paul an innocent smile and cocked my head towards the hallway. “I’m just going to use the restroom.”

He mirrored the tilt of my lips and waved in the same direction I’d indicated. “I’m sure you know where it is,” he laughed. I nodded and spun on my heel, marching down the hall with purpose. The apartment had three bedrooms, and I guessed right when I pushed open the door to the first one on the right.

The room was decorated in white and lavender with yellow accents; it was feminine without being overkill. Everything was in its place except the stack of worn paperbacks on the nightstand that had me chuckling. Blair had always been a bookworm. It was one of the few things I remembered about her as a child and something we had in common. A grin sliced across my face when I pictured her reaction to one of the improvements I’d made to my home when I moved in.

I knew I didn’t have much time before my bathroom excuse became awkward, so I did a quick sweep of the room and decided that the most likely place was the white-washed, antique vanity on the wall by a door that I knew led to an ensuite bathroom. After a thorough examination of the drawers, I came up empty, so I moved on to the washroom.