Page 52 of Takeover

I barely take two steps out of his office before I feel a strong arm wrap around my waist. He discreetly pulls me to his side and holds me in place while he carries on a conversation with Hunter about the meeting. He walks us right into his private elevator, and even though I do my best to extricate myself from his hold, it’s impossible.

He never stops talking to Hunter when we get to the first floor and walk through the busy lobby and into his waiting car. Hunter takes the front seat, and I’m left in the back with Ethan.

“You know, there’s a gym in my building, and they have spin there. But fine, will you at least come back tonight?” I finally turn around to look at him and do my best to appear angry. “Please.”

“Fine, I’ll come back tonight, but I really don’t need a driver. I’ve been taking the train or cabs in this city my entire life.”

“Chica, are you crazy?” Hunter asks from the front seat as he cranes his neck to look at us. “Your man wants to give you a car and a driver to take you anywhere in this city at any time on his dime, and you’re fighting him?” He sucks his teeth and turns away from us.

“Listen to Hunter. He’s very wise.”

“Didn’t you just fire him?”

31

“Thanks for letting me take him, E.” My eyebrows shoot up at Ethan at the nickname, but he ignores me as he listens to Lindsay’s verbal diarrhea. She steps inside the apartment, all the while pulling off her black leather gloves. She leaves them on the coffee table and drapes her long wool coat on the couch on her way to the kitchen. “My sister is only in the city for the weekend, and I want Vincent to get to know his only cousin.”

She doesn’t say a word to me the entire time. As I follow them into the kitchen, I do my best to hold back my eye roll. We were just about to leave to go play in the snow, but she called thirty minutes ago and asked to take Vincent until tomorrow.

“I’d kill for a cappuccino,” she says. For the first time since she’s been here, she looks at me but looks right through me. “I don’t normally ask nannies to do this, but would you mind making me a cappuccino? And Ethan,” she says, playfully hitting him on the arm, “you gave me such a hard time for wanting nannies on the weekend, and here you are with one.”

Ethan bristles at her words. “Lindsay, don’t come to my house—”

“It’s okay, Mr. Bradford. I’ll be happy to do it.” I wink at him. Seemingly satisfied, Lindsay takes her place at the kitchen table as if this is her home, and I’m her employee.

“Vincent’s been talking nonstop about a Cara. Is that her?” she asks Ethan as if I’m not in the room. Even though he introduced me as Tara when she first got here. I can imagine her pointing a finger at my turned back. “A few of my friends are throwing a little soiree for me next Saturday for my birthday, and I’m personally inviting you. I’m sure Cara here will stay with Vincent. You can use the extra money, am I right, Cara?”

I turn around. Ethan visibly tenses and turns his body. I know from his posture, he’s seconds away from addressing Lindsay, but he catches my eye and I subtly shake my head.

“Actually, it’sTara,” I say to her before turning back to the espresso machine.

“It’s going to be at the Skylark,” Lindsay continues talking as if I hadn’t said anything. “We haven’t been there in a while. Do you remember we had dinner there before we had our separate bachelor and bachelorette parties? That was a fun night.” When she starts to giggle, I can’t help myself. I turn around to find her putting a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. She laughs again, the sound of her phoniness so obvious. Ethan seems uncomfortable and moves away from her, but she’s either oblivious or undeterred by his rejection. “Just have your driver pick me up so we can go together.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

The fake smile leaves her face for a second until she replaces it with one even more fake than before. She shakes her head and continues to speak. “But you know how uptight you are when you have to drive. I want you to drink and have fun. I’ll get a driver and come pick you up.”

“Lindsay, has it ever occurred to you that I’m busy or just don’t want to attend your party?”

The machine starts to whistle, and Lindsay shuts up. I know her type. She’s regrouping. This is far from done.

“Well, which is it, E? Are you busy or don’t want to come?” She giggles again, and I hear the scraping of the chair. “I know it can’t be the latter. Just work your magic and rearrange your schedule. It’s just a few hours, and I promise you it will be worth it.”

Having had enough of her shameless flirting, I pour three cappuccinos and place them on a tray. After placing drinks in front of her and Ethan, I take the seat to Ethan’s left, which puts me directly in front of Lindsay.

As soon as I take my seat, her eyes narrow and she runs a hand through her stringy blonde hair. Ethan puts an arm around me, picks up his mug, and clinks it with mine.

“Thanks, Tar Tar,” he says. “It’s good, but you didn’t give me any sugar.” He catches my eye and winks at me. He takes a sip, and I swipe a finger across his upper lip to remove the foam. I turn back to Lindsay and lick the excess foam from my finger.

“I’m all the sugar you need.” He throws his head back and laughs.

“And all I can handle.”

“Damn right.”

“You’re fucking the nanny, Ethan?” Lindsay asks. She drops her mug on the table, and some liquid slides out of the cup. A slow smile spreads across my face as I sip my own drink. Lindsay sits like a statue with her mouth hanging open.

“Ethan is definitely not fucking the nanny,” I inform her. “I’m Tara Taylor.” I reach across the table and offer her my hand. She turns her gaze to Ethan, and when he doesn’t acknowledge her, she reluctantly takes my hand. She barely touches it before pulling away. She clears her throat and finally sips her drink, but I don’t miss how the mug trembles on the way to her lips. I don’t have long to wait before she makes her next move.