The whole ride into the city, Bridge had been quiet, and I'd been contemplative. Not once had Bridge tried to confront me or talk to me. He was really done with me. I could see his anger radiating through him. It was in the press of his lips, the tick of his jaw. There was no path to him, so I was going to have to research these things on my own. My first stop would be Telly. Surely she would help me.
Are you sure about that? Because she is Team Livy. And Team Livy will be Team Bridge.
Livy had a soft spot for wounded hearts. East was definitely out. Although, East always had a soft spot for me. But he was Elite. And Ben... Well, Bridge was one of his best mates. I’d have to figure it out on my own, one way or another.
Once we landed, we took the elevator down to the private garage and were shuffled into a car as we were flanked by many guards. Once I was seated in the car, he climbed in next to me and sat with me through the next ten minutes of traffic until we reached the Middleton Communications building. But before I could step out, he halted me. He stepped out of his side and came to my side to open the door. When I stood to my full height and searched his gaze, he lifted a brow. “This is the part where you pretend, Emma.”
I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean, pretend?”
“Assume we’re being watched. So, you’ll want to put on a performance.”
Performance? What the fuck did he—
And then I understood. Anywhere we were, Francis Middleton might see us, so we had to pretend to be a couple in love. Pretend that we couldn’t get enough of each other. Pretend.
I hated to pretend. I was a damn good liar, but I preferred the truth. When I’d married Bridge, I was meant to be pretending, but even then, there’d been the kernel of truth in my words. I was always too practical. But now, my husband was towering over me, leaning in. I adjusted my head so that his lips would graze my cheek. But instead of going for my cheek, he went for my neck and inhaled deeply. "Not to worry. This is better. Put a mask on your face that says that you are in the throes of passion and you can't get enough of your husband."
"I'm not sure how to make that face. It’s an unfamiliar feeling,” I spat back.
His teeth grazed my neck, and I shuddered. Involuntarily, my eyelids went half-mast. And then he followed the trace of his teeth with his tongue and his lips. "Play the part. Otherwise, none of this works. This could have been avoided. You could have been on a plane to the Winston Isles by now."
"We agreed that’s not a possibility. So stop lamenting a lost cause."
He pulled back and grinned down at me like a completely besotted husband. Not one who no longer wanted a wife.
"Goodbye, Bridge. I hope I never see you again," I muttered through my teeth.
He chuckled. "Oh, I'll be here at 11:45 to pick you up for lunch."
"Fuck you."
He gave me another quick peck on the cheek. "Goodbye, darling."
All I wanted to do was detach his head from his body and roll it down the pavement like a bowling ball. Or maybe wipe his smug grin and his dimple, those two beautiful features, off his face with my Jimmy Choo boot.
This was not what I wanted. I didn't want us to be at odds. I wanted us to be a team. But he’d fired the warning shots, and I knew we would never be a team again.
The two guards left me to my devices at the elevator. I knew they'd be stationed inside as was discussed. All they had to do was text him if there was a problem. And Bridge let me know that he had a very reliable recruit inside. Not that I didn't trust them, but I wasn't used to having to rely on anyone, so this was upsetting, to say the least.
Once I was upstairs in my office, I greeted my coworkers. Most were nice enough, but it didn't escape me that the majority of the positions held by women were admin positions. Oh, there had been the odd female exec in accounting, finance, and legal before they all jumped ship, but everywhere I looked I saw a sea of male faces. I knew I stuck out like a sore thumb, especially as my cream suit fit me to perfection. Not that I wanted Middleton to notice, but I had to look the part. When I stepped into my office, I stopped short. Yellow roses, a giant bouquet of them, sat on my desk. I frowned and searched through them, picking up the card.
"Congratulations on your nuptials. Be aware of your standing in this firm. You are being watched and recorded. Stay aware of that. We should meet."
A chill ran over my body, and I crumpled the card in my hand. I wasn't going to leave it here. I tucked it in my purse and tried to consider it carefully.
"Well, congratulations are in order."
I whipped around. "Oh, um, right. Hello, Francis."
He gave me a broad grin, and I kept searching for something behind those eyes that told me he was remorseful, regretful. But nothing. He was just blank.
"How are you?"
"The question is, how are you? I see a few days off post wedding have done you good. You've got some color in your cheeks, and not just because you're brown."
I gave him a wan smile for that one. I never understood the necessity that people felt to make any jokes or references to my color. This was a professional setting. Why did anyone have to bring it up? But again, Middleton was my boss, so I said nothing. And my team and I had bigger fish to fry.
"What can I do for you?" I laid my laptop on my desk, put my purse down in my bottom drawer, and lifted my head with a smile. "How's it going with Price?"
"Price is messy. Price is very, very messy. How was your wedding?" He shifted the conversation.
"Oh, it was just a small affair. Intimate. Friends. Family."
"I’m surprised I didn't get an invite."
I kept a smile plastered on my face even though I felt like ants were crawling on the inside of my body. "Yes, well, that's because when your guest list is under fifteen people, you tend to leave out a couple of people who would have liked to attend."
"It's fine. Remember, we have a company retreat in Barcelona in two weeks.”
I gritted my teeth and played dumb. "Barcelona?"
He nodded slowly. "We have discussed this before."
"Right. Slipped my mind."
"Yes, well with you on the team, we want to introduce you to the Spanish team so they can get to know you better. All of them. I find that these retreats are the best way to do that."
"Um, well, let me double-check to make sure I don't have anything on my schedule."
The frown on his face told me that was the wrong thing to say. "I beg your pardon?"
"Well, I just want to make sure there's nothing else pressing happening that week."
"Don't make me remind you that you work for me now. You will work when I say you're available to work."
I couldn't stop it. That thing that always got me in trouble. My fucking mouth. "But obviously, as it's a retreat, that seems auxiliary.” I forced my attention back on him. "But okay, I get it. It's important. I just hadn't realized that it was mandatory."
"Well, it is," he said with a glacial tone that was all frostbite.
"Of course. I'll make the necessary arrangements."
And I could tell that was what he wanted to hear the first time. Me bending over backward to accommodate and please him. I had to resist the urge to punch him in the mouth. But I knew there was no way Bridge or the others were going to let me go anywhere near Barcelona. So I asked him the one thing that was still really pressing. "So back to Price. Have you heard from him? What's the status on his wife and daughter? Anyone have any news about them?"