"You are braver than me!" I told her as I put my coat on.
"I'll walk you to your car," Garrett said abruptly, standing up.
"You mean your car," I replied as he followed me outside.
"Possession is nine-tenths of the law," he replied, holding the front door for me. My boots clacked on the flagstones of the roundabout as I walked through the dark. I was hyperaware of Garrett next to me.
"I’m safely at my car," I said, touching the driver's-side door lightly. Garrett loomed in front of me. Dry leaves rustled in the cold breeze. An owl hooted. I shivered.
"Don’t you need a warmer coat?" Garrett asked.
"Maybe, but this one is stylish."
Garrett looked at me, his eyes silver in the waning moonlight. I shivered again. Branches scraped against the windows on the estate. I told myself I was shivering from the chill and the spooky noises, but really it was because of Garrett. He was so intense and so close to me.
"I guess I'll be going." I opened the car door.
"Penny," he said, stopping the door from opening.
Was this it? Was he going to fire me?
"When I said I wasn’t thinking about you inthat way, I meant it."
"Fuck you," I said, shoving him out of the way, momentarily not caring that he could fire me and ruin my life.
He caught my arm then released me, running a hand through his hair. Garrett hissed out a breath between gritted teeth. "I meant that Iwouldn't, not that I didn't want to. Have a good night."
I slowly sat down in the driver's seat, and Garrett shut the door and stalked off.
Fuck me.
22
Garrett
Itook a freezing shower after making sure all the kids were in bed at a reasonable time. Then I tried to meditate and do tai chi. I needed to clear my mind. Sebastian was coming tomorrow morning. Convincing him to sell us Thalian Biotech needed to be my singular focus—not Penny.
There was a soft knock on my door, and then it opened. Davy padded in.
"You’re supposed to be in bed," I told him.
He handed me a plate covered by a napkin.
"I saved some for you," he said. "You didn’t eat any." He seemed proud of himself.
If I were my father, I would have screamed at him for disobeying me and thrown the plate against the wall. But I refused to be my father. So I bent down to look him in the eye.
"Thank you, Davy, that was a very thoughtful gesture."
"Are you going to eat it?" he asked hopefully and handed me a fork. I looked at the plate. It was a small sliver, not even two bites. I wasn’t a sugar person, but Penny had made this cheesecake. I ate it in one bite.
"It’s yummy, isn't it?" Davy asked, clearly delighted I was eating it.
I nodded and chewed. It was better than yummy. Yummy did not do it justice. It tasted like being with your family and like fall—but nice, happy, cozy-around-a-fire fall, not desperate winter-is-about-to-come-and-we’re-all-going-to-freeze-to-death fall. It wasn’t super sweet either. There was the smooth tang of the cheesecake; the graham cracker crust had bite, as if it contained oats. The caramel was slightly chewy, and the apples made it lively.
"Penny is really nice. She should be your girlfriend," Davy said to me, patting me on the head.
"She is nice," I said, picking him up and squeezing him. "Now you need to go back to bed."
