Page 11

CHAPTER 11

Birdie

“There’s nothing outside, but your security system is basic and can be easily hacked. The security firms I recommend will replace it with a more advanced system.” Morra puts a few business cards on the kitchen counter. “Who is staying with you tonight?”

No one. “I’ll call Gia.”

He nods and looks at the phone in my hand.

I squint at him. Is he waiting for me to make that call? “Thank you so much for everything, Mr. Morra. I’ve troubled you enough for one day. You’re most likely going back to Boston in the morning. I’m sure you need to rest.”

He takes a seat on my couch and makes himself comfortable. “New York.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve been planning on opening a new branch there, but I postponed it to come here. When I didn’t get the job, I decided to go straight to New York and get on with it.”

“I’m truly sorry you didn’t get the job, and I wish you all the best with your future endeavors.” I don’t sit so that he can take a hint.

He flashes a smile at me. “I’m not leaving until your assistant arrives, Mrs. Abel. If you want me out of your hair, now would be a good time to call her.”

He’s on to me. I fold my arms across my chest, too exhausted to argue. “And if I don’t?”

He stretches his arms and then slaps his thighs as he leaves the couch. “Then we’re going to need a lot of coffee.”

As he helps himself to my kitchen, I realize what he means. “No. No, that’s not happening.”

“Well, you have three options.” He’s already pouring himself a cup of coffee. “First, you call your assistant, and the second she’s here, I’ll bid you both farewell and be on my way. Second, you take my room at the hotel, and I’ll stand guard outside the door all night. Third, I do it here, in the comfort of your own house.” His strides close the gap between us. His gaze, a mix of concern, intensity, determination and desperation, holds mine. “There’s no way in hell I’ll let you stay here all alone unprotected, so which is it gonna be?”

I throw my hands in the air in exasperation. “I know you think differently, but eight years ago I was nothing but a woman doing her job and getting paid for it. You don’t owe me anything, Mr. Morra.”

“Yes, I do. Why do you have to be so stubborn all the time? It’s just one night. Why can’t you just let me help you?”

I wish I could explain, but I can’t. Being associated with him in any capacity, long term or one night can open a can of worms I can’t contain. It’s a risk I’m not willing to take because if it goes south, I’ll lose everything I’ve worked hard for in life.

“I’ll call Gia.” Begging her to come over after what I said to her this morning will hurt my pride, but I’ll take that pain over the alternative.

A long sigh seeps from his chest as I walk toward my office. I feel terrible. Tristan Morra is a good man. He doesn’t deserve the way I treat him. Under his dominant bravado, he must be questioning himself and his abilities. He must be wondering why a woman who’s supposed to be one of the most supportive and encouraging people in his life would make him feel inadequate and unworthy. I wish there was a way to make him believe none of this is personal or intentional. I’m only doing what I have to do to survive.

I toss my purse on the desk as I scroll through my phone to dial Gia’s number. Before I tap the green icon, my fingers tremble, and the phone slips from my hand. A gasp chokes in my throat. I grab on the desk so I won’t faint. “Mr. Morra.” I try to shout but my voice is trapped. Summoning all the power I have, I yell over the panic attack about to hit me, “Tristan!”

“Mrs. Abel!” His footsteps scurry toward the room, my heartbeat louder. He bursts in, guns out. His stare darts around, unable to locate the threat. “What is it? Are you okay?”

My legs can’t carry me any longer; I crumble on the chair. His eyes zero in on me and then on the desk. Then he freezes when his stare, too, falls on the yellow note with the butterfly signature.