Page 50 of The Sinner's Sanctuary

“We stayed at one of Gibson’s hotel properties in the Piazza Navonna.”

“Great location,” Joe says.

“You’ve been?” I ask.

“I was an art history major. I’ve been four times.”

“I could have used you. I kept knowing what I was seeing was important but not having a clue why.”

He laughs, one dimple popping and making him even more ridiculously good-looking. I’m literally the ugliest person at the table tonight.

“Show me the pictures,” Joe says. “Switch places, Jer?”

She sighs like she’s all put out, but they do switch spots, and I pull out my phone. Drew taps my hand with his knuckles. “How was spending all that time with Gibson?”

“As his assistant you mean?” I ask, not sure whether it’s kosher to mention we stayed in the same penthouse. It’s not like we shared a bed, though. Much.

Drew grins. “Or whatever.”

“I don’t think I realized how rich he is.”

“How rich is he?” Olivier leans forward to ask, his dark curls grazing his pale cheeks. He and Drew couldn’t be more different in temperament, looks, upbringing—literally everything, but I’ve never seen a more fiercely attached couple.

“I don’t have a net worth for you,” I say, “But his company is about ten times the size I thought it was. He’s got properties all over the world. I guess I thought he mainly dealt in Manhattan.”

“I assumed that, too. You’re not expected to keep track of all that are you?” Drew asks.

“I gathered that the job would mostly mean keeping track of him. He’s got plenty of presidents and vice-presidents all over the place doing their own things and some dude named Geoff with a G to oversee them.”

“So, what does hedoexactly?” Olivier asks.

“Initial client contact. Site visits. He picks the properties and plans the purpose.”

“Listen to you,” Jericho says. “You’regivingexecutive assistant.”

“Part time,” I add.

She gives me an indulgent smile. I’ve always felt like she likes me more than most people do. She’s like a protective big sister, although we’re the same age. I’m one of those slow to warm up people. If you’re not the type like Joe who likes everyone, and you’re more like Olivier or Elodie, I’ll either grow on you, or I won’t.

“Did you guys hang out at all?” Drew asks, like a dog with a fucking bone.

“Yes. We did,” I tell him, looking him directly in the eyes. “What other questions do you have?”

My friend laughs and gives me a hearty clap on the back. “Plenty, but I’ll wait until you get your drink.”

16

GIBSON

Islept most of Monday, and Tuesday was packed with wall-to-wall meetings. I’ve had no time to have the conversation with Christian I’ve been meaning to have, but it’s been on my mind constantly. I’ve seen him a few times in the lobby, and each time he looks at me expectantly like he’s waiting for a date and time, but the truth is, I need more than one assistant to keep me from feeling constantly rushed and overwhelmed. Having him “part time,” the details of which we still need to iron out, likely won’t make the kind of dent I need in making my life easier, but I’ll take anything at this point.

Wednesday morning, however, when I wake up with Pet curled at my feet on my bed at the club and have no desire whatsoever to touch her, I’m newly determined to set aside some time and figure out next steps in my life.

Marianne is my number one priority, but Christian’s role is a close second.

Though I barely touched her last night, Pet looks content, so I ease myself off the bed, managing not to wake her. As I exit my room, I find Emilia in my usual seat. She nods toward one of theglass-walled rooms where a few people are gathered to watch the action inside.

“Who is it?” I ask.

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