Page 77 of Charming Deception

But I came here for a reason, and I’m not planning to go anywhere.

* * *

Clara ushers me along the hallway that leads into what she calls “Mr. Vance’s private wing.” At the end of the long hall, there’s a foyer, smaller than the house’s main foyer, with a grand staircase leading up.

On the far side of the foyer, beyond the staircase, is a set of wide double doors.

Jameson’s office.

I’ve only been here once. When I tossed mud around and quit the job he’d hired me to do.

I cringe a little at the memory of how Clara had to chase me in here because I was so upset about Romeo being fired that I ignored her when she asked me to stop.

Now, Clara shows no sign of holding a grudge. She simply opens the doors to the office and leads me through to a sitting room that’s off to the right side, through a grand archway. I politely decline her offer of a beverage, and she leaves me there to wait for Jameson.

While I wait, I pace around the room, peeking at the few framed photographs on the mantel over the fireplace. Jameson and his family. There are a few of him and his siblings, casual photos taken at black-tie events. And there’s one of all five of them as children, with a couple who must be their parents. Their father in the photograph looks a lot like Jameson’s brother Graysen does now.

Jameson looks more like their mom, with similar light-brown, almost blondish, hair.

“I should probably update those.”

I startle a little when Jameson enters the room. I didn’t hear him coming. His hair is still damp, but he’s dressed in linen lounge pants and a white T-shirt, both of which showcase his strong, muscled body. His feet are bare. “Those photos are all a few years old,” he explains.

He does look younger in the images. He’s smiling broadly in all of them.

I wonder if he smiled more back then or if it’s just that he doesn’t smile much around me.

“I hope this is okay.” He gestures at his casual clothes. “I was trying to match your vibe.”

“Oh, god. Are we matching already?” I try to make light of the whole situation to calm my nerves. “Doesn’t that come at least a few years into a relationship?”

His eyes burn into me. “I didn’t realize we were in a relationship.”

I take a deep breath. “I’m here to accept your proposal.”

I’m not sure what I expected, but after the way he pursued me, maybe I thought he’d seem happier?

But all he says is “Have a seat,” and indicates one of the beautifully upholstered chairs.

I take a seat, and he takes the one facing me.

He studies me. “I was beginning to think I’d never win you over.”

“Honestly, everything you’ve done since I quit and walked out of here has won me over.” I pick at the hem of my dress, feeling even more nervous than I expected I would. “I didn’t think I wanted your help. I didn’t want my brother’s money, or yours, or your pity. The truth is I was embarrassed about the way I left Crooks Creek. I ran out in the night and never even told my ex I was going.” I blow out a breath, realizing how tightly I’ve been holding on to that truth.

“You did what you needed to do.”

“Yeah. I needed to start over. And I know I can do this on my own. But the thing is… The more you reached out to me and tried to convince me to give your offer a chance, the more I realized that I really have no good reason to say no.”

“You want a choice,” he says simply, “and you want to feel safe in the choice you make.”

I nod, feeling exposed and raw.

“It’s understandable that you wanted time to think it over.”

“Thank you.”

“So, your answer is yes?”

---