Page 33

I’m smiling to myself as I walk towards the building. I pause at the entrance and glance over my shoulder. He’s still parked at the kerb, watching to make sure I get inside safely, and warmth blooms in my chest.

Maybe I shouldn’t read into it. I’m just setting myself up for heartbreak if I do. But I can’t help the little flicker of hope it gives me.

Chapter 11

Bennett

“Good morning, Chelsy,” I say to my secretary as I pass her desk, heading for my office.

She looks up from her computer screen and does a double-take, her brows knitting together. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“I’m smiling?” I ask.

“You are.” She narrows her eyes suspiciously. “It’s honestly quite unsettling.”

I bark out a laugh, shaking my head. “I smile all the time.”

“Not like that,” she says, pointing to my face. “Has something happened?”

I lift one shoulder and continue walking. There’s no way I’m going to confess that last night with Poppy was one of the best I’ve had in a long time. Or that I’ve finally met a woman I can see a future with.

As soon as I’m seated at my desk, I open the top drawer and pull out the folder that’s been sitting there for weeks. I already know what’s in it. I had a friend of mine, Spencer Prescott, who owns an IT company here in Sydney, gather what he could on Poppy.

Her university debt—which she’s hardly made a dent in—and the mortgage she’s been paying off for almost three years.

I reach for the phone on my desk. I’m not sure how she’s going to feel about what I’m about to do, but I made up my mind yesterday morning when I arrived at her house before the funeral.

This needs to be done.

Poppy’s burning the candle at both ends, and it’s going to catch up with her if I don’t do something about it. I just hope she understands I’m doing this for the right reasons.

I’m currently standing in the Audi showroom because, if paying off someone’s debts wasn’t enough of a grand gesture, I’m also about to buy her a new car.

I know she has her licence, and there’ll be times I can’t chauffeur her around. I don’t like the idea of her catching buses at all hours of the day.

Is this too much too soon? Possibly. But I care about her more than I’m ready to admit, and it’s about time life gave her a break.

Once I’ve picked out what I feel is the perfect vehicle for her, a sleek black SUV, something safe and reliable, I head back to the office.

As I pull into the underground car park of my building, my phone chimes with a message.

Poppy: Why did I just get an email from the bank saying the mortgage on my grandparents’ house is paid off in full? Please tell me you had nothing to do with this.

My stomach twists as I read it. That doesn’t sound like she’s pleased.

Me: Would you be mad if I said it was me?

Poppy: I never agreed to your proposal, so yes, of course, I’d be mad.

Me: I’m worried about you.

Poppy: I don’t need you to fix my life. I never asked you to do that.

Me: I’m not trying to fix your life, sweetheart. I’m just trying to make it easier.

Poppy: Well, don’t. I can’t believe you went ahead and did this after I told you not to.

Fuck. Common sense told me she wouldn’t be overjoyed by what I’ve done. She’s fiercely independent, but I still hoped she’d understand why I did it.