Idon’t want your money.
No one in my life has ever said those words to me. Not once.
Other than my family, almost everyone I meet, and certainly any woman I have ever dated, has wanted me for the money I have or the lifestyle I lead. Amelia is continually reminding me that I am with a different class of woman now, and in the best way.
My heart is thudding as we move through the bustling corridors of the hospital. I follow her out of Annabelle’s room, along the hallway, and out into a small courtyard.
A light rain is falling. Amelia’s hair becomes peppered with drops as she walks ahead of me. She doesn’t seem to register that we’re slowly getting covered in a fine film of water as she whirls around to face me.
She’s beautiful even now, despite the strain and exhaustion on her face. Her hair is pinned back in some kind of claw contraption, and her eyes are flashing fire.
“What are you doing here?” she demands again, sounding and looking genuinely furious. “What the hell did you go to myhouse for? You had no right. Was my dad rude to you? We’re moving out of there.”
It’s a stream of consciousness, and I’m not sure which question I should answer first.
“I came to find you.”
“Because I didn’t come towork? I barely do anything in that place, and what Iaminvolved in, I’m sure you can find someone else to manage for you.”
I square my shoulders, not liking the dismissive way she describes herself.
“You didn’t show up on one of the most important days for my company. This deal is going to change everything, and you were part of that. I wanted to find out where you were?”
She scoffs. “Apartof it? You mean, you flew me out to the Maldives to make sure you had a plus one for dinner?”
“Amelia.” My voice echoes around the walls. She looks back at me, eyes wide. “You were part of this. Whether you like it or not.”
“Fine, I washugelyinstrumental in getting it over the line, happy?”
There are dark circles beneath her eyes. I hate seeing her like this; she looks strung out and stressed, and I realize now that it’s a look she carries wherever she goes. Always beautiful, but a little sad.
“What’s happening with your sister?”
“It doesn’t concern you.”
“I don’t deserve an explanation?” I ask quietly.
She plucks at a loose thread of her sweater. She’s wearing one of the pairs of pants Eleanora selected for her. The expensive fabric is trailing on the ground around her sneakers, absorbing the water as the rain gets heavier.
“Tell me.” I insist. “I have ways of finding out if you don’t.”
She rolls her eyes and actually stamps her foot, but eventually flicks a loose strand of hair out of her face and shakes her head.
“She’s sick.”
“How sick?”
“Very sick.” Her throat convulses on a swallow, and I wait, my chest tightening at the thought that her sister could be dying. “The reason I took this job is because of the money, okay? I needed the paycheck. I’d been working three jobs before this, and I was exhausted. Sterling House was a way for me not to have to worry about money anymore, to get my evenings and weekends back, to be there for Annabelle.”
She sighs, running a hand through her hair. A section of it comes loose, and I itch to curl it behind her ear.
“Annabelle has a rare form of leukemia. It’s aggressive, and she’s declined a lot this year. It’s why I was so desperate, it’s why I…” she trails off, and a knot of tension forms between my shoulder blades.
“It’s why you took a job like this,” I say flatly.
“I’m not ashamed of it,” she says, standing up a little taller. “But yes, I wouldn’t havechosento do it if I had any other option. I needed a lot of money to pay for the treatment, and working with you has allowed me to save up.”
“What will the money pay for?”
