Page 35 of The Heiress

“Yes,” I agreed wholeheartedly, “Iwill,ifyou’re going to be around.”

“Of course I’m going to be around! I’m yourassistant!”

She kept saying that word, but I was pretty sure she didn’t know what it meant. “Assistant.To assist. As in, you don’t make the rules.”

Dombrowski waved a hand. “If everyone is okay, we’ll leave you to it.”

But I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted him to take Kennedy the Morning Murderer with him. “I am most definitely not okay.”

“Technically she’s okay,” Jace said, stepping through the circle of bodies and taking my arm. “Kennedy, perhaps if you wait downstairs Samantha will come down to properly meet you after she’s gotten dressed. Sam, clothes? Please?” He sounded pained at the end of that sentence.

“Fine.” I threw my hands in the air and let him push me back into my elegant room.

From behind the closed door I heard Kennedy fuming, her voice growing mercifully distant with every second that passed.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

I noticed three things right then. One, that my room smelled like delicious freshly brewed coffee. Two, that Jace was fully dressed in grey shorts and a white shirt. And three, that he was very uncomfortable.

“How are you so awake?” I went straight to the fancy silver tray of coffee and poured a cup.

“I’ve been up since five. It’s habit.”

“Five? In the morning?” That was almost as bad as being woken up by a stranger.

He moved to the window—away from me and whatever was making him look anywhere but at me. “You wanted to know more about me, well here’s something. I don’t have a lot of spare time between my job and the club. So if I want to work out, I’ve either got to do it late at night or early in the morning. So I get up at five and get my workout in.”

“I didn’t realize you werethatbusy.” I’d already housed half the coffee and could feel it beginning to pulse through my veins.

“I’ve already worked out, walked a few blocks, watched the sun rise, and showered. I haven’t had this much leisure time on a weekday in months.”

All while I was snoozing like Sleeping Beauty. “How many hours a week do you put in for your business?”

He kept staring out the window, a really lovely smile playing over his handsome lips. “Probably a good sixty a week. I love my job, Sam.” And the club was essentially a second job.

“I’m apparently meeting Rose in an hour, whoever that is. I should probably shower.”

“There’s breakfast in the dining room. Buffet style for everyone. I’ll meet you down there.”

* * *

Half the house was a home.The other half was a hidden office building. Standing in the grand foyer looking at the central stairs, everything to the left was home. The parlor, the library, dining room and kitchen. From there, everything to the right was offices, conference rooms, and security. This included part of the second floor. The third appeared to be where Georgia and Charles worked, but I wasn’t absolutely sure just yet.

After breakfast I met with Kennedy and cleared the air. She would no longer be entering my bedroom for any reason, but I also accepted that she was the point of contact for my schedule for the rest of the trip, so I couldn’t just yeet her into the sun. After that, I met with Rose. Who, it turned out, was a stylist. Georgia wanted to gift me a wardrobe. Anentirewardrobe. Everything from expensive undergarments to formal gowns to silk pajamas.

I honestly didn’t know how to respond to that, so I let Rose take my measurements and barely registered her notes on how jewel tones would complement my coloring.

And now I was meeting with Jasmine in her office on the second floor. It was a nice office for the otherwise cramped business quarters. It was an island after all. There was only so much room.

“Would you like anything to drink? Water? Coffee? Whiskey?” She had a nice smile and I found I liked her without knowing why. She had the kind of eyes that flashed and danced with each word she spoke. Her dark hair was knotted into a row of buns running down the center of her scalp. Her clothes were expensive but somehow relaxed. Her gold jewelry sparkled under the office lights.

“The alcohol flows easily around here.”

“It...does. Yes. Lots of stress. Probably not the healthiest way of dealing with things, but it is what it is.”

I tried to picture our powerful Excel Research clients. The people at the top, not the numbers we studied at the bottom. Those people were like this. They worked incredibly long hours that bled from personal life to professional. They brokered deals on planes and in boardrooms. They used expensive alcohol to grease palms and take the edge off.

It was incredibly, disturbingly weird to now think of these kinds of people in flesh and bone instead of the abstract.

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