Page 74 of Charming Deception

“Oh, please. It hasn’t even been two weeks.” Nicole doesn’t spare me a glance. She’s getting ready for another night shift at Champagne while I wallow over my laptop and my empty email inbox.

“Actually, it has. And besides the interview you got me at Champagne, I’ve had two crappy interviews for jobs I desperately need, but don’t particularly want, and I didn’t even get any offers. And no one else is contacting me.”

“Something will come through. It just might take a while. You don’t have to kick in rent this month, okay? I can cover you.”

“Oh god, this sucks.” I fall back on the bed. “Maybe I should just go back to Crooks Creek.”

“What?! You did not just say that. What the hell is there in Crooks Creek for you?”

“My old job back? And a place to live?”

She turns to me. “You wouldn’t seriously go back to him.”

“Not to him. But at least I could afford a place of my own.” I catch the foot in my mouth and choke on it. “Not that I’m not totally grateful for what you’re doing for me, letting me stay here with you all?—”

“Megan. It’s okay. I know it’s not the Shangri-La.” She returns to doing her makeup. “Just stop putting so much pressure on yourself. It’ll all work out.” Her phone buzzes. “It’s the front door,” she says, picking up. “Hello?” She listens, then says, “Just a minute,” and covers the microphone hole with her finger. “Some guy named Roderick? He has a package for you.”

I frown, thinking. “Rurik?”

“Maybe that was it.”

She buzzes whoever it is into the building and I jog down the hall to catch the elevator. I hear it coming up, and when the door opens, Jameson’s grouchiest security guy is standing there, wearing that faint permascowl.

His name is Rurik, he’s originally from Russia, his English is flawless, but he doesn’t talk much. I learned all this when I bought him an iced coffee while he was following me around the other day. He looked thirsty. It was hot out, and he was in his suit.

At his feet, there’s a suitcase.

I back up as he rolls it out and parks it at my feet. Then he hands me the envelope he’s carrying. “For you,” is all he says.

My name is handwritten on the front.

By the time I open my mouth to ask what it is, the elevator has swallowed him and starts to descend.

The suitcase he’s left looks expensive. It smells new. It’s all black, leather with metal trim, and has double G symbols stamped all over the leather.

I open the envelope, my heart thumping, and slip out the handwritten letter. I read it right there in the hallway, with my fingers faintly shaking and a strange lump forming in my throat.

Dear Megan,

I want to let you know that Romeo returned to work the day after you left. I should’ve mentioned that before, to alleviate your worries about him, but somehow in my single-minded pursuit of you, it didn’t occur to me that it might ease your mind to know that. Also, I’m getting his wife appropriate care for her vision loss. Thank you for bringing the issue to my attention.

I also want to apologize for the hasty proposal. I realize now that I went into it overconfident and failed to give it the proper care it was due. I’ve had more time to think about it, and I hope you’ve been thinking about it as well.

If your answer is still no, there will be no hard feelings on my part.

However, I can’t promise you that I won’t ask again.

Sincerely yours,

Jameson Vance

My pulse is thudding too loudly in my ears and my breathing is shallow and fast. The man floors me. He isn’t even here and I’m shaking with nerves.

No, excitement. I’m shaking with a heady excitement.

I take a few deep breaths that do nothing to calm me as I grasp the handle of the heavy suitcase, and roll it back to the apartment, then into Nicole’s room.

She pauses as she’s putting on mascara. “Wow. Nice suitcase. From Cole?”

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