Page 7 of Sutton's CEO

I smiled. I don’t know why it pleased me that he remembered them from earlier. “Yes. But it’s far too late to be knocking on their door. Maybe Knox is home. I could give him a call.”

Mr. Williams tensed. “Who is Knox?”

“The sheriff,” I replied as I put the cleaning things away and did a double check that the stoves were turned off.

He visibly relaxed. “I don’t need to stay with local enforcement. We can begin the drive now back to the airport. I have the private jet on standby.”

“We?” I said dumbly.

He nodded, “We.”

“Mark,” I said, purposefully calling him by his first name. “Weare not going anywhere. If you would like to go back to wherever you came from, please feel free. Nothing is keeping you here.”

“You are keeping me here,” he said purposefully. “I need to speak to you about your inheritance. There are certain requirements that must be met.”

“Listen, it’s late and I am sure we can talk about this in the morning. How about we call it a night?”

I thought he would argue with me, but after a short moment of silence he nodded and motioned for me to walk ahead of him. I had already gathered my bag from under the counter, so I walked toward the door. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt his hand at the small of my back. “What are you doing?”

He yanked his hand away. “Escorting you to the door!”

“I have been going in and out of this door for years and nobody has ever had to touch me to find it.”

Mark’s eyes blazed for a minute. I wouldn’t have believed that those gray depths could appear as heated as they did now. “It’s called being a gentleman.”

“I don’t know much about gentlemen, but I do know about men who need to keep their damn hands to themselves.”

“Damn it, woman. I am not going to hurt you.”

“That’s what the spider says to the fly,” I quipped.

“What in the hell are you talking about?” he expostulated.

“It doesn’t matter,” I replied. “Just…don’t touch me.”

He nodded jerkily, tucking his hands into his pockets.

I locked the door and started toward the parking lot.

“I’ll just follow you, shall I?” he asked.

I frowned. “Follow me where?”

He looked at me like I was an idiot. Then speaking slowly, he said, “To your home. I want to make sure you arrive safely.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. “Sugar, I have been walking the streets of Otterville Falls my entire life. I am safe here. You go on to wherever you are going to stay for the night.”

His jaw tightened and I could tell he wanted to argue with me. But instead of waiting to hear what he wanted to say, I turned and began to head for the road.

I heard the crunching of his shoes on the pavement. “Where is your car?” he called out to me.

“Don’t have one,” I called back over my shoulder.

“You don’t have a car?” he repeated.

“I don’t have a lot of things, Mr. Williams.” I continued to walk and sure enough he followed along behind me.

“What is the relationship between you and that boss of yours?”

---