“Car, okay?” I asked. “I’d rather not waste more time than we have to.”
“Absolutely.”
Wanting to be prepared for anything, I had parked the car closer to the house. I didn’t know if we needed it for a getaway, or to confront Conrad quickly, but I wanted to be ready either way.
Because it was so early in the morning, I was able to park without much trouble, and rushed to open Blaire’s door before she could get out herself.
She took a deep breath, fluffing her hair. “It’ll be fine, right?”
I smiled, trying to give her as much confidence as I could spare. “I promise. It will be fine. We’ll be in and out before anyone notices.”
Without another word, she smiled at the security guard, who waved us in. Unsurprisingly, the lobby was empty, as well as the elevator ride up to her floor. Blaire shifted her weight from foot to foot, eyes darting everywhere except at me.
I hated how nervous she felt she needed to be. I wanted to wipe all of her anxieties away with a brush of my hand, a kiss, a sweet word or two. None of that was realistic. Blaire had experienced trauma for long before this, and her anxiety was always going to be a part of her. As much as I wished I could take it away so she didn’t hurt, I would never wish for her to be any less than she was now.
I grabbed her shaky hand, and brought it to my mouth for a kiss right as the elevator dinged. “I love you,” I murmured.
Blaire finally met my gaze. “I love you, too.”
The elevator doors swung open, and Blaire led us to her cubicle, where she began sorting through a black bag on the floor. Her work space felt just as much of a contradiction as the rest of her. A filing cabinet had a neat organizer on top of it, sorted by colored tabs and last names. But the desk in front of her laptop was strewn with papers, covered with images and lists.
“Got it.” She held up a small black notebook, and I turned away from the hastily scrawled list. “I normally bring my work bag home with me, but I must have been so tired…”
“It’s okay.” I pulled her to me and kissed the top of her head. “Now let’s get home, and we can sort through this, see if there’s anything we can use.”
“Blaire?” a deep voice interrupted us.
A tall man with perfect light brown hair stood just outside the cubicle.
“Duke.” Blaire’s shoulders were tight again, and she gripped the notebook for all she was worth. “You’re here early. I thought you didn’t get out of bed before your second espresso.”
I didn’t like Duke, if only from Blaire’s tense voice. More than just that bothered me, though. Everything about him wastooperfect, from his coiffed hair to his shiny shoes.
When he smirked at Blaire, I liked him even less. “And I thought you weresick.” The word dripped with condescension, and I took a step forward before I knew what I was doing.
“Watch yourself,” I muttered.
Duke turned his attention on me, running a bored glance down my dark clothes, obviously finding nothing worthy of his time. “Did you find yourself a nice little guard dog, Blaire? And here I thought you could handle yourself.”
Blaire smiled, but not one bit of it was friendly. She picked up her black work bag, obviously done with the conversation. “Hopefully I’ll be back at work soon. I’m sure Harry won’t mind waiting for that promotion since I’ve been so sick. Especially since my only competition wasyou.”
She moved to step past Duke who blocked her exit. He snapped out his hand as she passed, grabbing her arm. “I told you before not to mess this up for me. And I meant that. You’d do a lot better to know your place, and accept defeat now, Blaire.”
There was no way for me to control my anger, with how he touched her, how he spoke to her, how little he thought of her. When I pushed him away from Blaire, surprise caused him to drop her arm. He staggered backward into the cubicle wall which shook with his weight.
When he righted himself, his eyes filled with fury. I smiled. I knew he was too fucking perfect.
Perfect people always hid something. Blaire hid her trauma, her anxiety and fears. Duke hid a temper, now brought to the surface.
“That wasn’t a smart idea,” he snapped.
I met him where he stood, eye to eye. “Does it look like I care? You don’t touch anyone like that, but you especially don’t touchherlike that.”
“Winder, I’m fine,” Blaire piped up.
“It’s the principle, baby.” I didn’t look away from Duke’s furious eyes, churning with a darkness and an anger he hid behind too much cologne and a perfect suit. “You know, I thought I only had to deal with people like you in my neighborhood. It’s not as hidden there. People tend to wear their true colors on their sleeve. I’m realizing now that’s not the case. You just get to hide your rot behind money.”
“Say that again, scumbag, and we’ll see who’s really the scary one.”
