Page 26 of His White Moonlight (Dominant CEO Shifter Romance #1)

When she still didn’t say anything, I ignored her and focused on the mind-numbing task of judging other people’s expenses.

The expenses for the original companies I’d looked at had been easy to spot the financial bleed.

However, it was becoming increasingly harder with each new company, mostly because I didn’t know what some of the companies did, which meant I spent time searching the internet.

Could I knock on the door and ask? Sure. But I didn’t want to.

A few minutes later, one of the office women walked by me, knocked on the door, and went in. She left almost immediately. In what mood, I didn’t know because I didn’t look up from what I was doing. Not even when I felt the weight of Bennett’s stare.

The soft snick of the door was surprising.

No tantrum?

The blinds suddenly opened. Had I been looking at them, I probably would have jumped. Instead, I pretended he hadn’t startled me and didn’t exist.

The next woman hesitated when she saw the blinds were open, and I could feel her looking at me.

“Not my monkey; not my circus,” I said without looking up.

She walked away without trying the door.

It didn’t end. The stream of women was non-stop. Why they kept wanting to talk to me made no sense when I knew the message I’d given the first girl had been passed around.

Just before ten, I picked up my phone and walked away from my desk.

Me: Do you have any headphones I can use?

Mom: Ask Bennett. He can get you whatever you want.

I paused outside the bathroom and stared at the message with growing anger, which got the better of me because I typed out a fast reply and hit send without cooling off.

Me: Is Bennett my parent, or are you? I can’t tell anymore. If I’m a burden, just say so, and stop passing me off like the unwanted charity case they all say I am.

Something banged loudly on the other side of the floor as Miranda came out of the bathroom. We both looked in that direction before looking at each other.

“Heard your lunch times in Bennett’s office are a punishment,” she said.

“If I had even an ounce of interest in Bennett, maybe I would see them as an opportunity like you do, but I don’t.

I’ve been here less than a week and am ready to sacrifice a small goat to whatever species deity is willing to listen to get me out of here as fast as it can.

Now, can you do me a favor and tell my mom I went out to get my own stuff when she comes looking for me? ”

I turned on my heel before Miranda could respond and went to catch the elevator down to the lobby.

My phone started to ring. I looked at it and saw it was Mom. Ignoring it, I sent her another text.

Me: I’ll see you at dinner. We’ll talk then.

Mom: You are my daughter. Always. From the first moment I saw you, I’ve loved you. You aren’t a burden. You are wanted more than you know.

My eyes started to water in anger and hurt as I read her text. Then why had I grown up a foster and not adopted? Why did they send me away?

I made it to the street before I started to cry. Rather than taking a ride-share to buy some headphones like I intended, I walked to the park and sat down on a bench to watch the geese swim in the sun.

The wind dried my tears, and the fresh air helped lift my mood.

When I felt like I could, I opened my text messages with Mom and re-read them.

Passing me off to Bennett again and again hurt, obviously.

But it had also nudged that little box of worries in the back of my mind that I’d thought I’d put away last night.

Why did they keep pushing me toward Bennett? If I were wanted, then it meant…

I let out a long, slow breath.

“Where are you, Wren?” I said softly. “You’re sitting on a bench. You’re in a park. Get out of your head. Ground yourself in the present. You can’t control what might happen. You can only make choices now. Here.”

And my choices right now were simple ones. Stay in the park and soak up the peace a little longer, or head back and face the fallout from my anger?

I leaned back into the bench, closed my eyes, and tipped my face to the sun.

Avoidance as a coping mechanism wasn’t healthy. Avoidance to regroup and calm down wasn’t bad, though. Neither was avoidance as a way to stay safe. Mom’s hug was probably going to be bone-crushing when she got her hands on me.

When I opened my eyes, Bennett was squatting down in front of me, his expression a little lost and sad. The stark, red handprint that stood out on the side of his face stopped me from being angry that he’d followed me. Again.

“Who slapped you?” I asked.

“Mom.”

The answer shocked me. Mom didn’t slap. Ever.

“Why?”

“She knew you weren’t happy living and working with me. I told her I had it under control. Today proved that I didn’t.”

“Today had nothing to do with you,” I said.

He tilted his head at me. “Doesn’t it?”

I looked away, choosing to watch the geese swim freely in their pond rather than face his intense gaze.

“I haven’t been happy for a very long time, Bennett. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the lack of freedom in my life to make my own choices. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame Mom and Dad either. But I’m tired of doing what they want, Bennett. I want to do what I want.”

He moved fast, sitting next to me and hugging me before I knew what he was going to do. Although he’d been careful not to pin my arms, he was too close, cradling the back of my head as he dipped his to breathe in my scent from my neck.

Panic exploded inside of me, and I pushed at him.

“Get off me, Bennett.”

He released me and stood fluidly. My heartbeat thundered in my chest as I stared at him with wide eyes. Then, I looked at the hand he was holding out like he was offering me a hot poker.

He wanted me to touch him after that? Hell, no.

I stood without taking his hand. He tried to snatch my fingers, and I batted him away.

“I know you don’t need to hold someone’s hand,” he said, “but I do. I don’t want a matching handprint.”

“Then dodge. I’m not holding your hand.”

Speed walking away from him, I heard his soft chuckle.

Mom was waiting for us outside the building’s main doors. When she saw me, she burst into tears. Guilt speared through me, and I hurried to hug her.

“I’m sorry, Mom. What I said was purposely hurtful, and you didn’t deserve it.”

She held me tight until her tears slowed, then pulled back to look at me.

“It may have been purposely hurtful, but I think I needed to hear it, whether I deserved it or not. Is that really how you feel? That I don’t want you as my daughter?”

“No, Mom. I know you want me. I promise.”

She breathed deeply then kissed my cheek. I didn’t miss the angry scowl she shot at Bennett as she pulled back.

“It’s not his fault either,” I said.

She made a noncommittal sound and led me into the building.

We didn’t talk about anything on the ride up; she just held my arm like she was afraid I’d vanish. Once we reached our floor, she walked me to my desk, where new earbuds waited next to my computer.

“Thank you, Mom,” I said.

“For you, I’ll do anything, Wrenly. Always.”

I hugged her again and nudged her toward the door.

Her loving gaze swept over me, but hardened when it shifted to Bennett. A low, warning growl emanated from her before she pivoted and left.

“Told you I needed protection,” he said, his fingers brushing mine.

I batted his hand away and pointed toward his office.

“Go work.”

He went after a particularly hard shove, but kept his office door open.

For some reason, though, no one showed up.

Not even for the lunch I’d ordered. The receptionist called to say that the food was there, but I had to pick it up myself.

I didn’t mind the break. However, when I returned to my desk, my laptop was missing.

I wanted to groan. Instead, I went into Bennett’s office.

He was working and didn’t look up as I unpacked our lunch.

Grateful he was too busy to join me, I ate quickly and grabbed my laptop.

Although I was tempted to leave, I remembered his warning that lunch meant an hour in his office.

So, I made myself comfortable by kicking off my sneakers and settling sideways on the couch to work.

When he sat next to me to eat his lunch, I barely noticed.

The distance, silence, and open door gave me a sense of security that I realized was false when his fingers circled my ankle and tugged my foot onto his lap.

I jerked my leg back so forcefully, the laptop fell off my lap—thankfully landing on my sneakers—and it felt like I might have lost some skin.

Pulse racing, I pressed back against the couch arm and stared at him, waiting for his next move.

He frowned at me, concern clearly visible.

“Why did you panic?”

“Why do you keep touching me? I don’t like being touched.”

“I thought you didn’t like your face covered. The arm pinning is still debatable. Sometimes you’re okay with it, and sometimes you’re not.”

“I’m never okay with it.” Yet, I remembered the times he’d pinned them above my head, and I hadn’t panicked. That had been before he’d started acting weird with me, though.

“The face thing, too, maybe. Mom hugged you, and you were fine.”

“Mom is Mom,” I said. “She has different rules.”

“True.”

I continued to wait. When he didn’t try anything else, I glanced at the clock in his office and saw lunch was over.

“What time are we meeting Mom and Dad for dinner?” I asked.

“They made reservations at six at the Seventeen-Twenty-One.”

“If you think I know what that is, I don’t.”

“It’s a place downtown. Fancy. The dressy kind.”

I scowled at him. “Why didn’t you say something this morning?”

“You were already mad, and I know you don’t like wearing those kinds of clothes.”

“I also don’t like standing out.” I swung my legs over the couch, officially out of his reach, and picked up the laptop.

“If you give Mom another chance and ask her, she would love to take you shopping,” he said, watching me.

“Or…” I held out my hand. He took it in his so fast I missed the transition. I tried pulling it away like I had my leg, but he held fast.

“I’ll take you shopping. Anything you want.”

“Let go, Bennett. I don’t want you ; I want your credit card .” When he frowned but still didn’t let go, I added, “You’re hurting me.”

He released me, and I gently rubbed my healing palm.

“Why don’t you want me?”

“Because I’m not going shopping either.” I held out my hand again. “Card, please.”

He pulled out his wallet and handed over a black one.

“Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

After putting on my shoes, I left his office and hurried out to where the other women sat.

Ignoring the rest of them, I went to Miranda.

Milena and Olivia were the most determined she-bitches after Bennett, but both had burned bridges.

And although Miranda pushed me into the door—I took partial blame for that—she hadn’t been aggressive since then.

A little bitchy, but not mean, and she’d also clued me in on why Aiden and Karter had been sent away. I owed her for that.

“Possible opportunity for you,” I said, holding out the card. “I was just told I have to go to dinner somewhere dressy tonight, and I’m wearing this. I could go shopping for a dress, or you could shop for me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“To show Bennett your helpfulness and impress my mom.”

She considered me for a moment, then took the card.

“You already know my mom well enough to know what she’d like,” I said. “Please don’t make it too loud or too tight. I need to eat. I’ll let Bennett know you’re doing this favor for me. Be back before five.”

She glanced down at my sneakers.

“Shoes too?”

“Yeah. Flats, please.”

“You’d look better in heels.”

“Maybe, but I run better in flats.”

“Are you planning on running?”

“Only if I make someone angry.”

“She’ll be running,” one of the other women said under her breath.

Miranda smirked and grabbed her purse.

“If I end up regretting doing this, you will too, Wrenly.”

“Noted.”

I returned to Bennett’s office and found him where I left him. He looked at my empty hands then met my gaze expectantly.

“Miranda is willing to get a dress for me. I hope you don’t dock her pay for it.”

“Why Miranda and not you?”

“I don’t like that kind of shopping, and she does.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I have eyes and see how she dresses. She’ll pick out something nice and have fun doing it. I won’t. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

“What about for me?”

“For you too, because I won’t be angry from shopping and take it out on you.”

Something close to amusement flickered in his gaze, and I hurried to grab my laptop.

“See you after work.” I fled.