Page 4 of Save Me the Trouble
I swallowed down the lump in my throat, wishing I could tell her what she wanted to hear: that I would refuse the case on principle. But unfortunately, poverty made a mockery of principles, at least this one.
I needed this job. I needed the money. And if that meant I needed to bury my distaste for one more egotistical asshole, well, then hand me the shovel.
“Well, if that’s the case, then you shouldn’t be worried that I’d ever fall for a man like that,” I said low, giving her a look that spoke volumes.
I’d already been burned by one of those men, and every day I ate leftover Chinese food or boiled another packet of ramen was a pretty harsh reminder of what happened when I didn’t keep my head on my shoulders—what happened when a man used me to suit his own needs.
“Mr. Crown can try to threaten or torture or tempt me out of doing what I was sent to do, but the fact is, I need this job—I need the money.”
“And what if he finds out about your student loans?” she countered. “What if he tries to bribe you?”
My lips pursed. I didn’t want to argue about this—didn’t want to think about that. I took the job, and I was going to do it.
“He’s not going to find out, and I’m not going to take a bribe to screw up my job,” I said with a tense voice. “I may be a lot of things—suffocating under student loan debt, the only woman in Seattle not attracted to Killian Crown—but I’m not the type of person who would put herself and her future at the mercy of a man.”
I would sooner be penniless and panhandling down near Pike Place Market than let my emotions get the better of me again.
“I just worry about you,” she said and wrapped me in a hug.
I sagged into the embrace, grateful that I had her for support even if it got to be a little much sometimes.
“I’ll be fine,” I reassured her as I turned into my room. “And I’ll be back here every night so that you can talk sense into me like it’s a bedtime story to make sure I don’t do something stupid.”
“You better believe it.” She smirked.
I chuckled and went into my room, changing and climbing into bed before tugging my iPad onto my lap.
I didn’t care how much of Seattle he owned, how much money he had, or how good-looking he was, Killian Crown was about to learn just how hard it was to control someone who had nothing else to lose.
Chapter Two
Grace
Iwas nervous, and I shouldn’t have been.
So what if he was a billionaire? So what if he’d chewed up the last three—more experienced—curators sent to do this job?So what if his good graces were the only thing standing between me and homelessness?
I could do this.
“Hello. My name is Grace Johnson, and I have a meeting with Mr. Crown,” I said with a smile, hoping the receptionist couldn’t tell how tightly clenched my teeth were.
As soon as I said his name, she eyed me up and down, snobbery practically dripping from her mascara.Seriously? Did every woman have their sights on him?
I wanted to tell her not to worry—I wasn’t here to see Mr. Crown inthatcapacity, but the thought of having to do that made me cringe, and my distaste for a man I hadn’t even met yet grew by leaps and bounds.
Instead, I suffered her unimpressed stare at my burnt orange cropped pants and navy and white spotted blouse—an outfit I’d taken far too long to decide on this morning.Message received.I was nowhere near Killian Crown’s league. But I wasn’t trying to be.
I didn’t want to look sexy, but I also didn’t want to look like a person who could barely afford ramen, let alone clothes that fit—I didn’t want to look like who I was. So, I opted for the outfit I’d worn to my interview for my MBA program. Professional but quirky. And as long as no one looked too long at my scuffed nude pumps, it would be fine.
“Of course,” she clipped and wrinkled her nose. “Someone will be right down to escort you up to his office, Miss…”
“Johnson. Grace Johnson,” I said with a smile, barely containing my eye roll before turning my attention to the lobby of Crown Corporation’s headquarters inside the modern Rainier Tower.
On the one hand, the black-and-white marble floors, the crisp obsidian furniture, and the striking window façade and modernity of the building threatened to swallow one whole. But on the other hand…my head tipped up. Suspended across the entire expanse of the ceiling were countless Chihuly chandeliers and glass ornaments that dripped with vibrant colors and designs; it was strikingly lively and fun compared to the modern monochrome of the floor and décor below.
I wondered if he’d had anything to do with the decor.Probably all the things that were dark and cold.
“Ma’am.” My head jerked at the receptionist’s sharp tone. She nodded toward the elevator, where there was a security guard stationed at the entrance to the bays.
