“And?”
“Are you fishing for a compliment?”
I grin. “Maybe.”
He chuckles deep and low. “I saw you and thought to myself, ‘If there’s a God, please let me make love to her at least once before I die.’”
I blush. “Oh.”
“Happy now?”
“Yes.”
“And Blaire?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t ever repeat that you’re unworthy in my presence again,” he orders, leaving no room for a rebuttal.
I snuggle deeper into his chest, hiding a delighted smile from him. “Yes, Lawrence.”
I WAKE UP ENVELOPED in an invisible blanket of calm. The usual turmoil inside of me is missing, and in its place, there’s a quiet contentment—a peace. And I’m pretty sure it has to do with Lawrence and the acceptance that I found in his arms last night. It leaves me wanting more of him, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be this way—I don’t think I’m supposed to feel this way. Yet I can’t help but smile as the golden memory fleets across my mind.
My friend.
As I stare at the window, watching the sunlight come in, an idea takes root inside of me. Without giving myself a chance to second-guess myself, I get off the bed, dress quickly, and step out of the house. Relief washes over me when I find Tony waiting for me today. Lawrence’s Rolls Royce sparkles in the background.
“Good morning, Tony,” I say brightly, stepping down the stairs.
He moves to open the door. “Good morning, Miss Blaire.”
Upon reaching the car, I place a hand on the hood and turn to look at him conspiratorially. “Let me ask you something. Do you think Lawrence would mind terribly if I were to surprise him at work?”
His old, kind eyes sparkle with mischief. “He’d be delighted.”
Many thoughts run through my head like a train chugging along with no stop in sight as we drive across town, but I won’t allow myself to analyze their meanings—at least not right now.
Tony drops me off outside Lawrence’s headquarters. Awestruck, I stand on the pavement and stare at the massive building that houses Lawrence’s offices. Jesus Christ. Will this man ever cease to amaze me?
Uncertain, I look back and meet Tony’s encouraging smile as he mouths to go ahead and keep walking. Belatedly, it occurs to me to head back to the car and tell Tony that I’ve changed my mind, but I stay put. Wiping my hands on my jeans nervously, I begin to walk in the direction of the revolving glass doors.
Once I’m through security, I take the elevator to his floor. A pretty, vibrant receptionist greets me warmly as soon as I stand in front of the granite counter. I place my hands on the cold stone, trying to absorb my surroundings all at once. The floor to ceiling fountain wall behind her is both mesmerizing and soothing.
“Good morning. I’d like to speak with Lawren—I mean, Mr. Rothschild, please.”
“Sure.” As her open and kind gaze studies me, I want to fidget and straighten my clothes, but I don’t. “Do you have an appointment with Mr. Rothschild?”
“Uh—no. I don’t think he’s expecting me, actually. But I’m a … uh … a friend of his.”
“Not a problem, Miss …”
“Blaire. My name is Blaire.”
She smiles. “Would you please have a seat, Miss Blaire? Mr. Rothschild is currently tied up in a meeting but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Sure. Thank you so much.”
I move to sit on a comfy-looking leather chair. Tapping my foot nervously on the floor, I watch people dressed in expensive suits move around the office, the buzz of conversations interrupted every few seconds by the sound of ringing phones. My eyes land on the elevator as its doors open, drawing my attention to a pair of sleek businessmen stepping out of it. I see the instant they notice me, their eyes roaming my clothes, body, and face. Their perusal makes me uncomfortable. However, I won’t allow them to see it. I sit up straighter and arch an eyebrow. They immediately look away and continue on their way.