Page 109 of Getting it Wrong (Addy's Rollercoaster)

The light peeking beneath the blinds indicated that it was well past dawn. Easing out from under his arm, I pulled the sheet to my chest and gazed down at him.

We’d only had sex the one time. After showering, he’d returned wearing pajamas, pulled an undershirt from his chest of drawers for me to wear, and ordered me to sleep. So, sleep I had.

But now it was the next day. What was I supposed to do?

It had been good with him. Surprisingly good. Okay, not exactly surprising. We had chemistry. I could acknowledge it.

Today was a new day. I had a job, a good-paying one, the salary of which I’d negotiated prior to what we’d done. And I had my freedom. No more debt hung over me.

What that meant for Martin and me going forward, I wasn’t certain. But for now, I had to get going. I had that breakfast date to keep with my sister and Daniel.

Slipping from the bed, I removed his shirt and put on the dress from last night. Finding my underwear, I slid them on. I snagged my sandals by the straps and quietly tiptoed from the bedroom.

In the main living space, I found my coat. Well, not exactly mine. I’d return it and the dress, leave them in his office. That was what I’d done with the other things he’d ordered me to wear. I lived in a storage room with my sister and certainly didn’t have any use for fine clothing. What I needed to do as soon as possible was get us an apartment.

Whatever happened going forward, I didn’t want to owe Martin anything. My job and my personal life, I planned to keep those separate from now on.

Shoes and coat on, I called the elevator and rode it down. When the doors slid open at the lobby, Arturo stepped into view.

Nope, he never went off duty.

“Where are you going, Addy?” he asked.

“Good morning to you too.” I tried to step around him, but he moved in front of me.

“Did the boss give you permission to leave?”

“I don’t need his permission to go.” Frowning at him, I tossed my loose and sleep-snarled hair over my shoulder. I was irritated with Arturo for slowing me down, but relieved he hadn’t made a comment or had any visible reaction to my appearance.

His brow furrowed. “That’s not my understanding.”

“Arturo.” I huffed out a breath. “I’m going to work. You heard us discuss my job, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“Then you know it’s all right. So, can you give me a ride to work. He’s still sleeping.”

“I guess I could.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the movement parting his blazer and revealing his Glock.

Yeah, Martin looked peaceful in his sleep, but he wasn’t a peaceful man. Peaceful men didn’t need FBI-trained, gun-toting bodyguards.

Arturo wasn’t a big conversationalist, but he got me to Winston’s without delay. Traffic was almost nonexistent heading into Southside from downtown early on a Sunday morning. Seeing his cousin, Arturo parked nearby and waved me on, staying in the garage to talk.

I punched in the alarm code and hurried into the building. The lights downstairs were on, and I went to the storage room and peeked inside. Seeing that Rachel was sleeping peacefully, I exhaled my relief. Retracing my steps, I reentered the hallway and then climbed the stairs.

The club was quiet, peaceful, like Martin had been sleeping.

I headed straight for his office. My feet were killing me in the sky-high heels. Closing the door, I found the clothes I’d taken off the day before and put them on. I crinkled my nose. I would have liked another shower. Sure, I’d showered at Martin’s after we had sex, but I preferred a morning shower and wanted one now. However, I had breakfast to assemble.

Sometime later, I had flour, sugar, eggs, and milk laid out on a center worktable in the kitchen, and my second batch of pancakes bubbling nicely on a griddle on the stove.

“Smells delicious in here,” Rachel said, and I turned to glance at her over my shoulder.

She wore a smile, as well as Daniel’s arm around her slender shoulders. They came closer.

“Thanks. Glad you’re here.” I gave her a smile that I also shared with Daniel.

He grinned back at me and pointed. “You have, um, flour on your nose.”

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