Twenty
Preston
Two hours later, I set Violet’s brand-new car seat next to my dresser. I made a mental note to use the fluffy key my brother left me to retrieve some things from his place later.
Violet lay under the sheets on my bed, taking small sips of ginger ale, as tears fell down her face. As if her teddy bear was sick as well, she held the straw to his lips every few minutes.
Tara wiped away the tears with Kleenex, shaking her head at me. “You left out all the other things you let her eat over the past few days.”
“I didn’t think there was anything wrong with pizza.”
“There isn’t,” she said. “But she can’t eat that multiple days in a row with lollipops for breakfast, no matter how many times she asks you for it.”
The Bear asked for it.
“Noted.” I watched as she took Violet’s temperature and made her eat the last spoonful of chicken noodle soup. She saved the grape medicine for last, and although Violet insisted that she wasn’t sleepy, she was knocked out within minutes.
I dimmed the lights and motioned for Tara to follow me into the living room. She sat on my sofa and opened my laptop, typing the password.
“When are you going to tell her about her parents?” she asked.
“Sometime this week.” I was still debating on what approach I wanted to take. “A better place” never worked for me, “in heaven” just meant she’d spend countless hours asking questions about where that was, and “they were killed” was unnecessarily cruel.
“You need to get her a temporary nanny in the meantime,” Tara said. “I’ll get some recommendations and have them watch her in your private bedroom suite during work hours, until you hire someone permanent who can watch her here. You also need to have a designer come in asap and get her bedroom designed. She needs to have a space of her own and get accustomed to living with you.” She continued listing all the things Violet will need, and by the time she was finished laying everything out, it was a little after midnight.
“Do you need anything else tonight?” she asked.
“I need you to be my date to the Mister New York gala this weekend.”
“No. I still don’t think that’s—”
“Appropriate?” I rolled my eyes. “That word went out the window in the conference room, and I highly doubt anyone will think anything about you being my date. If you haven’t noticed, you’re with me all the time.”
“Fine,” she said. “So, all I have to do is help you with Violet for six weeks, find my replacement, and go to the gala with you this weekend to be released from my contract. Is there any fine print?”
“There isn’t any print at all.” I extended my hand. “This is a genuine, verbal offer, and I promise to be honest with you about everything until the deal is done.”
“I’ll do the same.” She shook my hand and stood up, heading for my private elevator.
I followed her and pressed the down button. “Thank you.”
“What?” She looked as if she’d just seen a ghost. “What did you just say to me?”
“I said thank you. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because you’ve never said that to me. Ever.”
Silence.
“Well, I mean it.” I watched her step onto the car. “Thank you very much, for everything.”
“You’re welcome.”
Twenty One
Tara
That weekend
* * *
I bit my tongue for the umpteenth time tonight. I didn’t know why I thought that Preston having a child in his life would soften him in the slightest, but I was now convinced he would always be an asshole. Even after getting him the best nanny in the city, hiring the best bedroom designer, and ensuring that someone in every field would be able to assist him with all of Violet’s needs, he was still the same.
We’d barely spoken since he picked me up for the gala, and he made it a point to introduce me to everyone as “my quitting assistant who won’t be here too much longer.” There wasn’t any humor in his voice when he said it, and if the person thought it was a joke, he followed with, “Good help is so tough to find these days …”
I felt foolish for spending half a day getting ready for this event, for hoping he would at least offer a goddamn compliment.
I’d spent over two thousand dollars on a custom pink and grey dress that fell just past my thighs, and a pair of brand-new, sparkling silver stilettos from Christian Louboutin. My makeup was done to perfection, and my hair was pinned up in curls with custom glittering pins.
Hurt, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Ava.
* * *
Me: Fuck everything I said earlier about this man “maybe” having a softer side. He’s done nothing but treat me like shit tonight, and I can’t wait until my six weeks are up.
Ava: Don’t let him treat you like that for another second, then. Get the hell out of there. I’ll call you when I land in France tomorrow.
* * *
“It’s nice to see you at one of these things with someone for a change, Preston.” The CEO of Marriott stepped in front of me as I was putting my phone away. “Nice to finally meet you in person, Miss Lauren. I’ve heard great things.”
“Have you heard that she’s quitting?” Preston asked.
“I haven’t.” The Marriott CEO smiled and pulled out his business card. “Since he mentioned it, I’d love for you to consider us.”
“Well, as long as the person I’m reporting to isn’t an asshole, I’ll consider it.”
His eyes widened, and I turned away, heading for the exit.
Preston was at my side seconds later, matching me step for step. “This gala isn’t over yet, Tara.”
I didn’t respond. I kept walking.
“Tara—”
“It’s Miss Lauren for you, forever.” I turned around to face him. “It’s bad enough that I've wasted two years of my life working under you while you treated me like shit, but I’m not letting you ruin my last six weeks. I’m done expecting anything else from you, and I’m done with you tonight. Done.” I stormed away with him on my heels.
I made it to the lobby, and he grabbed my elbow from behind, pulling me into the closest bathroom.
“We had a deal that you would attend this with me.” He hissed. “That means you leave when I leave. It also means—”
“Fuck you.” I glared at him, cutting him off. “Did you not hear what I just said out there? I am done with you. I’ll help Violet for the next six weeks because she’ll be in your unfortunate care, but I’m only doing the minimum for everything else.” I seethed. “I hate you.”
He let go of my elbow. “You hate me?”
“I didn’t stutter.” I tried to move past him, but he gripped my hips, keeping me in place.