Page 43 of Iron

She laughed, deep and throaty.

I raised a brow at her.

I understood that it was a joke but I didn’t usually make a habit of laughing.

Rowan was fair skinned. She was a true redhead and that bright color she had now was all natural. It was gorgeous on her.

In other words, Rowan didn’t tan. And it was apparent by her still creamy, pale skin.

She sat down on the opposite side of the desk and crossed her legs as she leaned back casually.

“You’re here for a reason,” I stated because I wasn’t a chit-chat kind of person and Rowan knew that.

“I have a proposition for you,” she said and I raised a brow as if to tell her to go on. “I love this place. And I love you, believe it or not. I’m not ready to walk away.”

I wasn’t sure how that would work. I detested drama and a married woman working in a place like this was just inviting it to walk right in the door.

“I don’t think that will work,” I told her pointedly.

She laughed again and shook her head.

“My man and I talked about it and he is fine with what I want.”

“And that is?” I was willing to hear her out.

“I want to be your second,” she said with a bright smile.

I sat up straight and thought about it for a long minute.

“No clients, no rooms. Just me looking out for the girls and running things so you can get a break,” she went on like I didn’t get what she was saying. “We both know that I will go crazy sitting at home. I would make a terrible trophy wife.”

To that, I nodded with a small smile.

This place was a lot to run by myself. I’d been doing it so long that I rarely stopped to think about it. But the truth was, I wouldn’t mind the help and a break every now and then. Perhaps I thought about it long and hard because of Iron.

I didn’t hate the thought of getting more time with him where I wasn’t constantly thinking about what was going on here.

“You’re thinking yes, but you’re not saying it. It’s okay, Petra, I hear you.” She got to her feet. “I won’t let you down.”

Her pointer finger pushed at the air in the direction of my face like she was air-poking me on the nose.

I didn’t understand the point of the movement but I didn’t say anything.

“Send me a schedule. I expect to start next week,” she tossed over her shoulder before she glided out of the room.

Leaning back in my chair, I thought about how much I could give her and still feel comfortable.

Three days.

Three days a week she could sit in this chair and I could relax.

I didn’t hate the idea that much.

I don’t know how long I sat there but a hearty knock at my door brought me back to reality with a slightly irritated feeling.

“Come in,” I called out.

“Petra,” Garen, my head bodyguard, said with a nod in greeting.