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“Later, your grandmother married your grandfather and they had,have—as best as we can tell—a blissful, committed relationship. However, your friend Sid over here…” Bolton tsks, “has been married several times and seems to end each relationship with more drama than the last.”
Sid pulls at his collar.
Bolton gives Sid a dry look. “At a certain point, Mr. Porter, you have to stop blaming the women. The common denominator is you.”
“What’s your point?” I snap.
Bolton arches a brow as if to scold me for interrupting. “After his final failed marriage, Mr. Porter has been nursing the hope that his first love will come back to him. In preparation, he has done his best to look out for and even, at times, bend the rules for you, Miss Hayes. He has shown more loyalty to a married woman and her family than he did to any of his ex-wives. You trust him.” Bolton leans down and stops a breath away from my face. “More importantly, he is trustworthy.”
“You want Sid as a witness,” I mumble as the truth dawns.
“The document in Mr. Porter’s hands is legal and permissible. All it’s missing is one signature.” Bolton juts a thick finger at the stack. “Mine.”
I glance over my shoulder at Sid.
He nods slowly.
“One signature and everything you’ve worked so hard for,” he gestures to the salon, “will be taken from you.”
I grit my teeth and resist the urge to claw at him.
“I don’t want that,” he says in a quietly taunting voice. “All I want is for my daughter to be safe and protected. All I want is someone I can trust watching her when I can’t.”
“And what makes you think you can trust me?” I snap, squaring my shoulders.
His painfully blue eyes search my face. “My instincts.”
A puff of air leaves my lips.
I can only blink.
“What do you say? Would you like the job?”
I don’t want to say yes. I don’t want to give this gorgeous maniac any victories. But his elaborate display of power has hammered in the point.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not in the result but in the process.” He steps back and watches me. Tall and imposing. And frustratingly calm. “Is there anything you want?”
“For you to disappear?”
His lips hitch up at the corners. It’s annoying to watch how his face lightens up when he almost-smiles. “Something I can actually arrange.”
I wish I had enough money lying around to pay off my debt to the bank and cut the Prince of Terror out of my life. The salons, that were my pride and joy, are now being bastardized. Turned into golden leashes around my neck.
Even if I could sever those ties, these buildings are my children, my blood, sweat and tears. I can’t let some psycho blow in and ruin it.
“Just stay out of my sight.” I grab the files from Sid and slap it hard into Bolton’s chest. “And to be clear, I’m accepting this proposal for Regan’s sake. If you want my terms, here they are. Find another nanny who’ll put up with your nonsense and get out of my life as soon as freaking possible.”
* * *
I callmy grandmother the moment I’m alone, but she and my grandfather are backpacking in Europe. The service is spotty and I don’t get through.
I’m tense and frustrated during my morning appointment.
On the bright side, that agitation gets funneled into my braiding. The Senegalese twists that should have taken three hours is completed in two.
I clasp the last golden bead around my client’s hair, dip the ends into hot water and send her on her way looking like a Nubian goddess.