I get it, but it doesn’t change anything. This is necessary.
To anyone watching, she’s just another woman walking a half step behind her partner. Nothing unusual.
And of course, they don’t know who I am, and that’s how it needs to be.
She nearly explodes the first day I take her with me to work, jaw clenched as I escort her into the less-than-glamorous office space. Really, it’s just a front. A legitimate investment firm stacked on top of less legitimate dealings doesn’t make anyone bat an eye, especially not when I keep it clean and boring.
“You can’t be serious,” Elena utters, glancing around the space.
“I am.”
“I have a job. A life,” she returns, tone terse. “You can’t just haul me around like a service dog.”
“Well, if you feel like pitching in, then be my guest,” I murmur, earning myself an irritated glare from her. Then I sigh and shed my jacket. “Like it or not, this is your job today.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“I already did,” I say, gesturing to the love seat shoved against the one wall. “Get comfortable.”
Elena’s stare is hot enough to burn, and her arms cross tightly over her chest. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Get used to it.”
Not bothering to hide her disdain, she mumbles something under her breath as she sits down, refusing to look at me while I get to work.
After a while of biding her time, Elena eventually gets bored enough to complain about it, so I give her a laptop. She taps away furiously in the conference room across the hall, and while I have access to her screen from mine, I watch the various insults she types out for me in a word processor, feeling both irritation and amusement from it.
I could tell her to show some respect and put her in her place, but I don’t. I’ve already learned quickly that trying to divert her anger only feeds it, and it’s better to give her space when she needs it.
She spends the rest of the afternoon lying on the couch, eyes closed, while she apparently tunes out the rest of the world. By the time evening rolls around, I can still feel how tense and stuffy the office space is.
We’ve hardly spoken to each other all day, and I know being forced to go along with me is getting under her skin.
Which is why I take her out to eat before heading home.
The diner is quiet, tucked away on a side street that’s modest enough not to attract any unwanted attention. We sit in a corner booth, with Elena’s hair tucked under a beanie and a pair of oversized sunglasses on. Her neutral clothes help her blend in.
She looks over the menu with disinterest, even though I heard her stomach growling throughout the drive here.
“You do realize this is a terrible idea, right?” She asks, not looking at me.
“What, eating?”
“Being out in public,” Elena mutters, like I’ve just said the dumbest thing in the world. “You keep mentioning how my brothers don’t know who you are, but that doesn’t make you invisible. Cameras exist literally everywhere.”
“It’s hard to place someone you’ve never seen before. I think I’m just fine.”
“And what if they recognise me?”
“They won’t,” I say calmly, glancing between her and the laminated menu. “You don’t look like yourself.”
She huffs out a breath, vaguely annoyed. “This is ridiculous…if you were smart, you’d be hiding. Not going to greasy diners.”
“Hiding doesn’t get you anywhere,” I murmur, not giving in to her slight petulance. “And thegreaseis better than nothing when your stomach sounds like it’s seconds away from consuming itself. Or are you too good for a place like this?”
Her eyes narrow at that, obviously not appreciating my poking. “Shut up…it’s fine.”
“Good.”
