Page 58 of Donut Overthink It

“What about where she lives?” She goes on, and I shake my head. “Did he not pick her up for their date?”

“No. She met him at the restaurant.”

“What did she look like?” she asks.

“Dark red hair. Brown eyes. She was about five four. Five five. She was already waiting at the table, and she left right after she proposed the sex and he turned her down. So he didn’t get a visual of her car.” I shrug. “She could have left in a taxi.”

“What about surveillance at the restaurant?”

I shake my head. “Not available at the location.” I’m not gonna tell her everything that is involved in this case. It would scare her. Cops don’t search this much for a misdemeanor in Chicago. They got other shit to deal with.

She runs a hand through her hair. “What about the evidence they had on me?”

“No longer relevant.”

She spins around to face me. “They tried to arrest me. It’s very relevant. What did they have, Aiden?”

I walk over to the conference table and pick up the folder and hand it to her. She yanks it open and gasps as she looks at what’s inside.

“Pictures? These are of me the night that I ran into you at dinner.”

“Yes,” I say even though she didn’t ask me a question.

“How …? Who took these?” she demands as she looks them over. There’s one of her and Nate sitting at the table. Another of them walking out. A third of him helping her into his car. And the fourth is of them standing outside her apartment building. His hand on her lower back as he escorts her to the front door.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” I sigh. “But it proves one thing.”

“What is that?” she asks, tossing them onto the table. They slide in various directions from her force.

“They were taken of you. Not me.” I look down at the pictures of her and Nate sitting at the dinner table. Someone had taken pictures of her and me, and her and Nate in the same night. Same place. Someone was following her. And they probably still are.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” she whispers.

“You’re staying with me up in my penthouse,” I say without thought.

“Aiden, we can’t—”

“This is not up for discussion,” I interrupt her.

Her jaw tightens. “I work here. And as far as the company knows, you’re married.”

“You think I give two shits what they think?” I shake my head. “I’ve been parading women through these halls for years, and no one has ever cared about my fake marriage.”

Her eyes narrow. “Aiden—”

“Not up for discussion, Hadley,” I snap, interrupting her once again. “We will go to your place during lunch and pack you a bag.” Then I turn around and exit the room, slamming the door behind me.

CHAPTER TWENTY

HADLEY

I DROP MY BAG ONTO THE FLOOR OF his penthouse with thin lips. My mind is telling me this is a bad idea, but my heart is beating out of my chest with excitement. And that’s what makes me so mad. It was supposed to be just sex. Now he’s trying to protect me. Like he cares.

He reaches down and picks up my bag, walking into the open living room and down a hall to the right. I follow him much slower. I take in his expensive furniture and lack of photos. Big black and gray rugs dot the white hardwood floors. A white leather couch and loveseat sit in the middle of the living room facing the floor-to-ceiling windows. A fireplace stands to the right.

“I put your things in the closet,” he announces, entering the living room once again. “I’ve got some drawers you can use—”

“I’m not moving in. I’m just here for the night,” I interrupt him, hoping he doesn’t hear the nervousness in my voice.

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