Page 68 of Savage Game
When they finally came up for air, he gave her a heart-meltingly sweet peck on her nose and whispered, “One year, Kittycat.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I’ll give you one year to work on your goals and then I’m coming for you.”
They sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Although she was a bit sad, hope also soared in her heart.
Epilogue
31
One Year Later
“Don’t make it too late, boss lady.” Estella, her efficient administrative assistant leaned her shoulder against the doorpost of Charlotte’s office.
Charlotte checked the time at the top of her computer screen. “Heck, you’re right.” She saved the file and logged out of the system.
“You seemed to be pleased with yourself,” Estella observed as she handed Charlotte her lightweight coat.
“I am pleased. Randall Estate is making a little profit this month despite all the renovations and upgrades we needed to do.”
Liam’s sins had finally caught up to him when one of his many business partners caught him embezzling funds. That had led to further audits and investigations racking up a long list of convictions and eventual incarceration. He’d not survived more than three nights in prison when he upset the wrong gang on his arrival. Since he never made a testament and her lawyer hadn’t yet filed for a divorce, Charlotte inherited his entire business and discovered he made money with as little regard for others as he treated her and their marriage. She’d been working to make things right since the solicitor disclosed she’d become the owner.
“Already? You only took over the reins five months ago.” Estella held open the office door and arched an eyebrow. “And despite you getting rid of the most profitable assets?”
“Assets,” Charlotte scoffed, her heels clicking on the tiled hallway floor as she and her assistant made their way to the exit. “Count on Liam and Michael to be ripping off people who aren’t capable of defending themselves.”
Estella gave her a sideways glance and smiled. “But you’re setting it right.”
“Yes”—Charlotte’s spine straightened—“I am.”
“I’m proud of you, boss lady.”
Charlotte’s step faltered for a moment, but she picked up the brisk pace and nodded. “You know, I’m proud of myself, too, though I never actually finished school.”
They halted in front of the bank of elevators and Estella pressed the button to go down. “When would you have had the time to finish? Besides, you nailed the GED test with flying colors, right? You’re too hard on yourself.”
Charlotte just hummed and watched the lighted numbers above the left elevator change. The doors slid open, and they stepped inside and turned in unison to face the exit.
For a few moments, they stood in comfortable silence beside each other as the elevator started its fast descent before Charlotte turned to her trusted assistant. “So, it’s Friday night. Do you have any exciting plans?”
Estella launched into a description of her plans involving bars and dancing and—as usual—suggested, “Why don’t you come with me? You could do with some winding down and perhaps even celebrate.”
Charlotte’s answer was postponed as they stepped off the elevator and started toward the exit. Both waved at the night security guard as they walked past the desk and the entry door slid open.
“I don’t know,” Charlotte hedged. Stepping outside the building, she squinted against the afternoon sun and scanned her surroundings. The self-defense training, Byron insisted she followed, taught her well.
Estella argued—also their usual—that Charlotte needed downtime during the weekend, and Charlotte listened with a half ear because she was expecting her weekend was about to get claimed.
As soon as she spotted the sleek Tesla at the curb, her heart began to hammer. Charlotte placed a hand on Estella’s arm and interrupted her mid-sentence. “Sorry, Ella, I’m going to beg a rain check on that drink.”
Estella followed Charlotte’s line of sight and grinned. “Oh, the mystery man of the daily flowers and weekly gifts has finally arrived?”
“Yes, that’s Byron’s car.” Charlotte bit her lip and restlessly shifted her feet on the pavement.
“Well, boss lady”—Estella bumped her shoulder with Charlotte’s—“what are you waiting for? Go get your man.”
Her man!
The winglike back doors of the Model X slid up, and Charlotte hoped she’d remembered to wish Estella a good evening because the next moment she was moving.
A shiny shoe appeared, followed by a long leg in navy blue suit pants.
