Page 7 of Little Did You Know

The leather seat creaked as I turned to face her. "I'm sorry, Olivia." The smoke clinging to her hair made my eyes water. "I know this isn't the ideal situation, but I promise you won't be there for long. I'll have one of my assistants take you out shopping..."

Her head snapped up. "You're not going to take me?"

The knot in my stomach tightened. Her fingers hadn't stopped their desperate dance with the singed fabric. "I can't." The watch face caught the morning light, numbers marching relentlessly forward. "I have to be at this meeting in twenty minutes."

She folded in on herself, becoming smaller in the leather seat. The sharp smell of smoke clung to her hair, mixing with the car's new leather scent—a jarring reminder of whatever she'd fled from.

"Trust me." The words tasted hollow even as I said them. “I will make this super quick, and I’ll meet you after my meeting to get you settled.”

She nodded, her smile and tired eyes looking like the fight left her.

The city crawled by in slow motion while my pulse raced ahead. My driver took each corner with increasing urgency until we finally lurched into the parking garage. The SUV's tires squealed as we skidded to a stop at the elevators, throwing us forward in our seats. Time was winning.

“Let’s go, Olivia,” I ordered, shoving open my door, stepping out of the SUV, and spinning back to her. She hadn’t moved. “Olivia, please. Let’s go.”

"Nick." She hugged herself, the thin fabric of her nightgown a pathetic shield. "I'm not dressed and?—"

"Olivia." The name came out like a whip crack, harsher than I’d intended, but I had to get upstairs, and I couldn’t leave her here alone. I still had no idea why she had to leave in such a rush, and I didn’t have time to figure it out right now. “Get out of the car.” Her shoulders sank as her eyes met mine. I softened my tone. “I promise I will make this as quick as possible.”

She nodded as she slid across the seat and out of the SUV.

We rode the elevator from the basement parking garage up to the 6th floor.

Stepping off the elevator, I guided Olivia down a short hallway and through the office filled with open cubicles and employees who’d already started their workday.

“Good morning, Mr. Pears…” my newest intern Hannah’s words trailed off, and her smile faded as her gaze shifted from me to Olivia. All eyes followed her.

“Back to work, everyone,” I ordered, my tone firm.

“Hannah,” I snapped. “Where’s Rachel?” Rachel was the first person I’d hired when I started this business. She was a bitch, but she was damn good at her job.

Hannah scurried alongside us, her tablet clutched to her chest like a shield. "She's in her office, sir." Her eyes darted to Olivia's bare feet on the expensive marble floors.

My office door swung wide under my palm. "Rachel, my office now." The words echoed across suddenly silent keyboards.

The click of Rachel's heels announced her arrival before she appeared in the doorway. Her perfect blonde bun and precise eyeliner were weapons in her arsenal, just like the way she leaned against the doorframe—calculated casualness that said she had better things to do. Her gaze raked over Olivia's singed nightgown.

"Didn't realize we were running a shelter now." Rachel's manicured nails tapped against the doorframe, a metronome of judgment.

"Shut up, Rachel." I pinched the bridge of my nose, squeezing until pain gave way to pressure.

Rachel's head tilted, predatory curiosity in the gesture. "What's with the homeless girl?"

I didn't have time to explain. I needed to get Olivia out of there before my business partner and good friend, Justin Reid, came in. "She's not homeless; she's an old friend from out of town, and her house burnt down last night. Rachel, I need you to take her shopping, and Hannah, I need you to get ready for the meeting this morning."

Rachel's gaze raked over Olivia like a physical touch. "Uh, no way." Her lip curled. "It's not my job to take your charity cases shopping."

My fingers pressed into the edge of my desk until the wood bit back. "Rachel." The name tasted like acid. "She's not a charity case, and I don't have time for this right now."

Her hip swung out. "Charity case, fuck buddy, same thing." Each word landed like a slap.

The bridge of my nose found its way between my thumb and forefinger. "Rachel." The throbbing behind my eyes intensified. "Justin will be here any minute, and I need to get her out of here."

Her stilettos clicked against the floor as she advanced, each step precise as a knife point. "Look, just because you're embarrassed by your new fuck buddy doesn't mean I'm responsible for her." Rachel was still bitter about the one time I asked her to pick up one of my hookups when I was running late. I hadn’t told her who the woman was. She’d found out after. I didn’t think it mattered, but apparently it was tacky since she’d gotten on her knees for me the day before. To be fair, I didn’t lie to anyone. Everyone knew up front that I wasn’t monogamous. Lesson learned.

She straightened, smoothing her skirt. "No, my job description entails answering phones, scheduling appointments..." A predatory smile curved her lips. "And blowing you under the desk when you ask me to."

My eyes widened as the door slammed hard enough to rattle the blinds. In the silence that followed, even the air conditioning seemed to hold its breath. If there weren’t the possibility of a sexual harassment case, I would fire her.

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