“Yes, we can.” She pushed back the storm of emotions threatening to explode from her fragile hold. “As the first order of business, I’m giving you my two-weeks’ notice.”
“Why?” He took a step toward her, holding out an open palm. “I told you I’m sorry. What else do you want?”
“I don’t want anything.” Nothing you’re willing to give me. “But you’ll have a wife to pick out your clothes and check your appearance and coach you on your expressions. You won’t need me anymore.”
“Your job entails a great deal more than that.”
His detectable irritation gave her a sense of satisfaction. He hardly ever displayed his emotions, so he was impossible to read. She had to face reality—Branson Knight was never going to think of her as anything but a personal assistant, no different from any of the dozens he’d probably employed through the years.
Maybe his engagement and marriage would help her douse those flames she’d been trying to suppress for the last two years. She shouldn’t have let herself fall for him.
The timing couldn’t be worse. Ellie’s new medication was incredibly expensive, and the insurance wouldn’t cover it. She couldn’t afford to lose this job, no matter how much her pride stung. But what if his new wife wanted him to fire her? Carina had always given Steph the cold shoulder, making her feel invisible.
“I apologize, Mr. Knight. I was totally out of line. The truth is, I need my job, and I don’t want to quit. But my head’s killing me, so I think I’ll call it an early evening.”
Though her words were stiff she managed to sound genuine. At least she thought she had. Yet he stopped her before she could get away, his hands firmly grasping both shoulders as he bent his head toward her. For an instant, she thought he was going to kiss her, and her chin lifted toward him, lips parting of their own accord. But he turned his head at the last minute, his face contorting in frustration.
“I’m blind, Stephanie, not deaf and not dense… at least not usually. I don’t want you to leave until we fix things between us. You’re the best personal assistant I’ve ever had. You take care of every part of my life, personal and business. I’m willing to consider a raise, if that’s what you want.”
“I’m not asking for a raise.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. A raise would be life-saving right now, but she couldn’t accept it under these circumstances. “Why do you make everything about money?”
His hands dropped to his sides. “Because, in my experience, that’s how things are.”
“I’m not like that.” His words hurt so much, even though she knew it was his own life experiences that made him so cynical. “Don’t you know me by now? We’ve been together two years.”
“Are you volunteering for a pay cut?” The corner of his mouth twitched, a grin threatening to emerge, and she briefly considered stomping on his three-thousand dollar Ferrinos.
“Of course not,” she sputtered. “I need money, like everyone else. But that’s not what this is about.”
“Then enlighten me.” In the shadows of his face, his eyebrows lifted. “Why are you upset?”
She struggled to explain her reaction without revealing her feelings for him. “I guess my feelings are hurt because you usually share everything with me.” Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “I didn’t even know you and Carina were serious.”
“You knew we were dating exclusively.” His eyes widened in innocence.
“You didn’t even pick out her birthday present. You said, and I quote, ‘Get her anything. It doesn’t matter. I’m sure you’ll pick something suitable.’”
“You know I never hide anything from you. I didn’t mean to do it tonight.”
“That’s debatable.”
The man hid behind a mask. Sure, she knew about most of his business dealings. Yet she never had personal contact with his closest friends, other than Carina, who sometimes barged in during work hours. Of course, he worked so much, he didn’t have much time for leisure activities.
“I planned to announce the engagement in June at the shareholders’ meeting, but Carina said it was too impersonal. Right before the party, she talked me into pushing the date forward. I didn’t have a chance to tell you.”
“And you just happened to have that diamond and ruby ring lying around?”
He waved his hand in the air, as if erasing her objections. “That’s not even the real engagement ring. It’s one my mother left to me. Carina would never settle for another woman’s ring.”
“I understand.” She threw the lie out with all the resentment she felt.
“If you’d moved into the estate, like I’ve suggested all along, you would’ve known the last minute details.”
“I have a daughter. One I barely see, as it is—”
“You and Ellie would have your privacy inside the estate. There’s an entire empty wing where you could hide, along with your nanny.” His voice dripped sarcasm. “You could keep your precious time away from me.”
She bit her lip to keep from crying, glad he couldn’t see her face. All this time she’d resisted his offer to live at his mansion complex, for fear of becoming even more dependent on him. But the past few months, the medical bills had increased to the point she was seriously considering moving in to relieve the financial pressure. Now she didn’t know what she was going to do.
“It doesn’t matter now. Your new wife wouldn’t want another woman living in her house.”
“There are dozens of people who live on the grounds. She wouldn’t even notice you. And it doesn’t matter what she thinks, anyway.”
“I think her opinion matters. You’re getting married.”
“Nothing will change. My life will continue as always.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. Of course your life will be different. You’ll have a wife. And someday, you’ll probably have children, right?”
“Children?” Why did he sound like her suggestion was outrageous? He was only thirty-two years old, and he loved kids. He’d poured millions into charity work for children. “We haven’t had time to work out these details,” he muttered, sounding disgruntled.
“You’ve been dating for a year.”
“Exactly.” He gave a sharp nod. “After a year, why were you so shocked we got engaged?”
She gaped at him, unbelieving. “Maybe because you never said you were in love with her.”
His mouth opened and then closed, as if he was debating what to say. “Stephanie, I…”
