Chapter Twenty-Five
The morning sun is streaming through the window when I arrive at seven.
Henry’s already dressed in his suit and at the desk, typing furiously.
“Good morning,” I offer, helping myself to a cup of coffee. Despite
going to bed with tangled thoughts, my body shut down and did not want to
restart this morning when my alarm went off at six. While I hoped I’d wake
up having come up with some logical explanation for Henry and his severe
swings in mood and intentions, all I woke up accepting is that I have no
idea which version of Henry I’m going to get when I walk in today.
He finishes up what he’s doing and hits Send before offering a “good
morning” back. His eyes settle on me through a sip of his coffee. “How are
you feeling today?”
Because you abused my body yesterday? “Fine.”
“Good.” He nods more to himself, a thought skittering behind those
blue eyes. “I have a meeting with some people this morning, and my father
and brother are arriving in the afternoon, along with droves of media flying
in for tomorrow’s grand opening event. There will be a lot going on, and a
lot of people will want my attention. It’s going to be a stressful time for
me.”
“How do you plan on handling that stress?” I keep my tone neutral,
though the implication is thick.
He offers only a tight smile. “Things will be different around here for
a few days.”
I get his meaning. Around here means between us. I can’t blame him
for that. “Just let me know how I can best help with the circus.”
“I will. Thank you.” His eyes finally lift to meet mine. I see worry in
there. And something else. A touch of fear. “I can trust you to remain
discreet, right? What we had—have—will stay between the two of us?”
“Of course.” My heart tightens at the past tense slip, but I blame it on
his nerves. His mind is clearly wrapped up in something. I’m sure it has to
do with his father, and all the media attention.
Finishing the last of his coffee, he stands to leave. Taking a few steps
away, he stalls, then turns and walks back to plant a soft kiss on my lips.
“Everything will be okay.”
He gives me a tight smile and then heads out the door.
I guess I need to get used to this, with a guy as successful and
important as Henry.
It’ll certainly keep things interesting around here.
With a sigh, I take the seat he just vacated and open his e-mail inbox.
One of those “Confidential—Legal” e-mails sits on top. It must have come
in last night, while I was passed out on the carpet. It’s no longer bolded so I
know he has seen it.
I make to drag it into the Legal folder but I accidently click on it
instead. I’m aiming the mouse for the “x” to close it when a name catches
my eyes.
Kiera.
That name that both Belinda and those men that day around the table
mentioned.
I can’t help myself.
Henry,
Kiera’s lawyer has informed me that she has decided not to sign and
accept the settlement we’re offering. Her husband has persuaded her
to file a civil suit against Wolf Hotels. She is also pressing criminal
charges against you for forced sexual intercourse. We need to get PR
involved for damage control ASAP, and discuss what the prosecutors
may be able to dig up on similar indiscretions, etc. The media will eat
this up. I haven’t informed your father yet. Would you prefer to do it?
Call me.
D.C.
I feel the blood drain from my face. Forced sexual intercourse?
Damage control? Criminal charges? Similar indiscretions, etc.?
This can’t be about Henry. But it is. It says the charges are going to be
against him.
With shaky fingers over the mouse, I scan the e-mails in the folder
marked “confidential.” They’re all correspondence between Henry and
some guy named Dyson, a Wolf attorney based on his signature. E-mails
about paperwork for a settlement being delivered, and such. I scroll further
back, to an e-mail from a month ago with an attachment for review.
I click on the attachment.
It’s a sixteen-page settlement offer to Mrs. Kiera Clayton, former
Wolf Hotel employee, whose position was terminated three months ago.
Her position as Henry’s personal assistant.
And she’s being offered several hundred thousand dollars in exchange
for her agreement for complete confidentiality, including discussion of any
sexual relationship she may have had with her boss.
Henry M. Wolf.
I curl my arm around my stomach as it begins to churn, threatening to
kick its contents out. “Oh God.”
What kind of man did I just get involved with?
