Page 51 of Bobby

My eyes snap away from his to behind me. I wasn’t about to have Willow stay up in the apartment alone, so we conducted the meeting in the living space. I must have missed her coming out of the bedroom. She looks rumpled, but from sleep, not my kisses. Nothing seems off except that she’s standing at the entrance of a bedroom with her shoes off and her hair in disarray.

She still looks half asleep as she blinks at both of us in slight confusion before dipping her head in acknowledgment.

“I’ll get going. Let me know if you would like my physician to come see to your assistant.” Lewis, who’s getting more and more on my good side, shows himself out with little to no fuss.

Which is fine, since I can’t look away from the woman before me.

“How long was I out?” she asks.

“A couple of hours.”

She nods and takes small steps around the furniture to come sit where Lewis was earlier. It’s a deep-cushioned blue couch. Not meant for business, but for resting after a long day of meetings. It lets a person sink in, supporting them as they rest. Just like Willow is experiencing now as she looks around the place.

“Where are we?”

“The Hudson office.”

She looks up at me with pinched eyebrows. “The office is an apartment?”

I shake my head and find myself smiling as I sit down on the opposite couch, facing her. “No. This is a crash pad I have here, above the office floors below, in case meetings run long or weather prevents me from returning home. Like today.”

I hold her stare, waiting and watching for it to sink in. A moment later, her eyes go wide and she turns her head to the window, then stumbles over her feet to get up and look out. The entire sky is as dark as night. Lightning flashes across the sky, followed by thunder. A change in wind has the rain pelting against the window for a moment, only to quickly change direction once more.

“Won’t it blow over?”

I stand and come over. Close to her, but still an arm’s length away. I’m not about to assume what happened in the helicopter is something she’d want to duplicate so quickly. Her actions then were ruled by fear and stress, not want or need. I’m sure they were there as well, but they weren’t the driving factors.

“No. There’s a line of thunderstorms coming in from a hurricane to the south of us. The hurricane won’t make landfall, but we’re getting storms that weren’t expected to reach us until later tonight. All helicopter flights are grounded because of high wind gusts and low visibility, as well as lightning. And before you ask, the tunnels are also shut down already due to flooding, and Midtown is already in gridlock. There’s no way we’ll make it back home tonight. You’re not leaving. Neither of us are.”

Lightning skates across the sky to emphasize my point, followed by the windows shaking from the thunder that suddenly seems directly overhead.

Chapter 19—Willow

This is a nightmare. All of it.

I place my hands on the window; the cold is peaceful to the touch. Leaning forward, I set my forehead on the glass as well and close my eyes, taking a moment—just a small one. Might seem like I had more than enough after passing out from a panic attack and sleeping for hours, but it felt like only a minute long.

How did the day go so wrong? An easy morning with a blessing announcement that the man who made me fearful for my child attending school was gone, only to end up in a fear-induced panic that had me making out with my boss in front of people for who knows how long. Then I passed out and ended up here. His place—open and beautiful—leaves very little room to hide.

“Come on.” He taps my elbow before pulling me back from the window. “Marco wasn’t able to secure much for us before the storm hit, but he got us some food. Why don’t you go get into something a bit more comfortable, and I’ll get us some lunch. It’s after twelve, and I’m sure you’re hungry. I know I am.”

Not sure if he adds that last part because he knows I’m the type to forgo a meal, but I won’t let someone eat alone. I doubt he knows that much about me already. Even though he seems to always have food around and has wanted me to eat with him on more than one occasion. Maybe he just doesn’t like eating alone. I don’t.

I let him lead me back to the bedroom I woke up in. The only one in this place, I note, as I stand at the French door opening and let him move past me to the dresser drawers. He pulls out a few clothes, tossing them onto the bed before going to the only other door in this room and opening it, turning on the light to reveal the bathroom. The storm outside keeps most of the place dim, as the lighting isn’t daylight but soft off-white. Typical for a place to relax after a long day without bright lights to keep you up. A crash pad, nothing more.

“Feel free to take a shower. Towels are under the sink, along with other items you might need. I only have the basics here, and I apologize for not having anything more feminine to lend you.”

Like I would want anything that belonged to another woman. Again, I’m so unsure of myself, I half wonder if he said it to see if I would react to the idea of another woman being here. I won’t say it louder than the whisper in my head, but I find it comforting that it’s just his things here. That this isn’t some mistress hideaway or whatever people rumored to be in the Mafia are into.

What I found on the internet the other night has been playing in my head. A constant reminder, but not something I’ll shy away from. I’m not promoting it, but in my life, a name doesn’t define a man. Take my former boss. He used his title to steal. So far, the only thing Bobby’s done is give the girls and me a place to stay and peace of mind. Who cares how it happens, as long as the innocent aren’t harmed. If that makes me a bad person, then send me to hell. But if someone protects my child from a predator, I’m willing to overlook the word Mafia being tied to his name.

He walks by me, turning only to close the door. But before he does, he speaks once more. “It’s going to be okay. Think of this as just a small getaway and nothing more.”

Then he shuts the door, and I let out a deep breath before grabbing the clothes and going to the bathroom. A shower is exactly what I need to fully wake up and get rid of the fog still clinging to my brain ever since I realized he wanted me to fly with him.

I was so in shock that my feet had carried me along while my brain screamed in protest. And then I froze, unable to do anything at all. I might have said something, but I don’t know what. I was locked down, incapable of moving until his lips touched mine.

And then that was all I could focus on. All I needed to stay alive. Him wrapped around me and giving me his life force, charging in a connection of souls, sharing breath.