CHAPTER ONE
WREN
“Robert?” I step out onto the back patio where he’s been pacing for the past twenty minutes. I waited until I saw him hang up his phone before coming out to speak to him. I know better than to interrupt when he’s on a call.
“Hmm?” He stares off into the large manicured yard, clearly still distracted.
“Is everything alright?”
“What do you mean?” He finally turns, giving me his full attention.
“You seem… upset. Is everything okay? Who was on the phone?”
He frowns at me in disappointment, and I instantly realize my error.
Never ask about a man’s private affairs.
Pushing his phone into his pocket, he steps up close to me. I swallow nervously as I try to maintain my posture and not cower. I know he’d never hit me, but disappointing him cuts just as deep.
“Wren, you know better than to ask a man something so personal.”
Dipping my head with a nod, I quickly agree. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Robert. You just looked upset. Is there something I can do to cheer you up?”
He gently grips my upper arm, giving me a slight squeeze of reassurance, and I glance up at him, hoping he’s not mad at me.
He offers me a small smile. “You’re such a good sister to me, Wren—so sweet and kind. I tell you what, if you want, you can get me a glass of whiskey. You remember how I like it?”
I nod eagerly, happy to do something for him since he does everything for me. He’s raised me since our parents died when I was only five. He was twenty-one at the time, so he legally adopted me and has given me a safe home to grow up in. I’d do anything for him.
“Neat, two fingers,” I tell him, proud to know the correct answer.
He smiles warmly, dropping his hand and nodding toward the back door. “Go on then. Bring it to me, then you can get started on dinner.”
“Would you still like lamb? I also have some veal in the fridge and could make Osso Buco, if you’d prefer?” I ask, eager to please him.
He smiles again, telling me I was right to ask. “Roasted lamb is perfect, Wren.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back with your drink.” I scurry away and get it as quickly as possible. After that, I work on dinner.
One of the nicest things Robert has ever done for me is hiring a professional chef to teach me how to cook. He even told them all his favorite meals so they would incorporatethose recipes into my training. Now I can make everything he loves: Beef Wellington, Duck à l’Orange, Lobster Thermidor, Coq au Vin.
I secretly hoped he would let me taste one of them one day. Of course, I tested everything while cooking, but having a plate filled with lamb shanks for dinner or eggs Benedict for breakfast… that’s my secret dream.
I understand that type of food isn’t for women, that I need to eat a clean, vegetable-heavy diet, one that would help me stay in shape. But it didn’t mean I didn’t daydream about sinking my teeth into one of the meals I cooked for him and his friends.
Setting the lamb shank down in front of Robert, where he sits at the head of the dining room table, I see his eyes light up and release a breath of relief.
He approves.
I go back to the kitchen, grab the other two plates, and place them in front of Carlos and Theo, two of his closest friends and employees.
“Thank you, Wren,” Carlos says with a grin that makes my skin prickle with unease.
“Looks fucking fantastic,” Theo says, licking his lips.
“Theo!” Robert scolds. He hates when people swear. Although I’ve heard him cussing up a storm behind a closed door before, I wonder if it’s just that he doesn’t like them swearing around me.
“Err—Sorry, boss,” Theo says sheepishly.
