A third kiss came at me, this time on my forehead. “Since we’ve been living in these conditions, neither of us could do anything. I got you a new identity.”
I snorted a laugh. “Out of context, that’s wild.”
“So, what’s the context?”
Rolling my eyes and trying my best to suppress my smile, I kinda wanted to take the identity as it was, run away, and never have to think about Ezra—me—ever again. “Running away,” I said. “From all our problems, and all the bullshit billionaires will do to get their own way.”
He kissed me again. “Well, we can run away once the year is out.”
The hearing couldn’t come soon enough.
***
After being stuffed by breakfast, Jacques handed me a file. It had everything inside it to start a new life—fake birth certificate, passport, driver’s license, even education certificates. My newname was Zachary James. I thought it was a mistake at first, but James was the last name. I stared at all of it fanned out on the coffee table. Jacques’s new identity was Rydell Winchester. If we even took them up at all.
“I promise I’ll get you something once this is over,” I told him.
“You don’t have to get me anything. You are my gift.”
“Well then, at least let me help you make dinner.”
Jacques shook his head. “No way. You are to sit here, look over everything the law firm sent over, and get prepared for the hearing. Or there are all those jigsaw puzzles.”I shuddered. I didn’t want to see another jigsaw in my life. “And no news,” he said. “If I hear a reporter, I’ll give you a spank.”
I giggled. “You know I might like that.”
“It’s Christmas, put a movie on.”
“Make me some hot chocolate, then.”
The firm had sent me documents over through the Bianchi brothers. It was all boilerplate stuff, words and phrases I might want to steer clear of because of how they could be twisted by the opposition. It eased me somewhat, even if the idea of having people argue and question me had my anxiety up. Jacques was a constant reminder than I’d done nothing wrong. I was exposing them, legally speaking.
***
Jacques fired questions at me. “And how did you find the documents?” We were in the awful stage between Christmas and the New Year now, which mean there was so much time of just endless time-consuming nothingness, with the exception of Jacques feeding me and going over my defense—or attack, I really didn’t know anymore.
“As part of my duties as compliance auditor, I had access to past studies and information from the company,” I said, slumped on the sofa. “I hate how much this entire thing has changed me.”
“It’s okay, you’re reacting to what’s going on around you,” he said. “I’ve changed too.”
I shook my head. “Not in my eyes you haven’t. In my eyes, you’re still super sweet and subverting the image of a masc man covered in tattoos.”
He laughed. “If youknewme before meeting you, then you’d know I’ve changed.” He tugged on my foot and pulled me down the L-shaped sofa. “Were you paid by a rival company to dig around in the Nexovex archives?”
“No, I was doing my job,” I said, feeling myself becoming whiney. “Would they even ask that?”
He reached out for a paper on the coffee table. “According to your team they will,” he said. “Next question. Did you have permission to remove records from the archives to your personal property?”
My throat was in my stomach. If I wasn’t seated and being hugged tightly, I might’ve fallen to my knees. “You know I didn’t—I mean, no, I didn’t have permission,but—”
“Nope,” he said. “They’re not going to let you keep speaking once you’ve already saidno.”
“What? Really?”
“Yes, really.”
I could’ve cried. It felt harsh like a dagger to my gut, being twisted around and around. It went on and on, like it was burring a hole straight through. “Fucking bastards.”
“Hey,” he said, wrapping his hands around my mouth. “I don’t want any of that. You’ve got stay calm and composed on the stand. Okay?”
