by Ivy Fox
“I don’t know how,” he confesses, hanging his head down low, his hands keeping it from falling on the table.
“Yes, you do. Hurt her. Like you did now.”
The self-deprecating laugh that leaves him hurts me just as much as the pain swimming in his eyes.
“I can’t. When you finally fall in love with someone, you’ll understand why.”
For the second time today, Em’s whiskey eyes flash into my mind, and I don’t know what to do with that realization.
Chapter 16
Emma
I sneak small glances at the exquisite gorgeous man sitting at my side, so engrossed in what he’s reading that he is utterly unaware of the captive audience he’s gained in me. We’ve been working together nonstop going on two weeks now, and I have to say his work ethic has surprised me. Although I had my motives in accepting his offer to be my assistant, I was sure that Colt’s intentions also had a hidden reason behind them—a more self-serving one. That somehow he would use the time we were spending together to his advantage and worm his way into my bed. I’m not sure if I should be elated he hasn’t made one move in that regard or bitterly disappointed.
Not only did I think he’d ever take this job seriously, but never in my wildest expectations would I consider him to be such an enthusiastic and proficient aid. I hate how sexier that makes him for me. It’s difficult enough to concentrate on the job at hand with him in the same room, but add his focused determination to my cause, and I’m done for.
“Do you need something?” he asks, breaking into my thoughts while maintaining his head bowed to the book in front of him.
“Huh?”
“I can feel your eyes on me, Professor.” He smiles, a grin so genuine it takes my breath away.
“I’m sorry,” I croak, embarrassed he caught my blatant ogling.
“Don’t be. I like it when you look.” He smirks, but it fails to have the same swagger and cockiness to it that I’ve been accustomed to seeing planted on his face.
It’s playful and without malice.
And God help me, highly seductive.
“I was just thinking,” I begin to say in the efforts of doing some serious damage control on my libido, “how amazing it must have been for you to have grown up in a house like this.”
When his glowing smile falls from his face, I almost kick myself for opening my mouth.
“Nothing amazing about it.”
“How can you say that?” I ask in astonishment, my gaze scouring around his beautiful home library that put many of the ones I have visited in my lifetime to shame. “There are literally millions of people who would disagree with you and love nothing more than to live in such splendor as you have.”
“Whoever envies my life is an idiot. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that money can’t buy happiness?”
“Are you saying that you’re not happy?”
He thinks about it for a moment, which leaves me even more perplexed.
“No. I don’t think I ever have been.”
“Privilege has spoiled you,” I snap, displeased with his reply.
“I’ve made you angry, even though I told you the truth.”
I raise my face his way, stern and unrelenting.
“How can you say that you’re unhappy? Look around you. This home is fit for royalty, and yet you spit on it. Not to mention the fact that you have two living breathing parents and three siblings, yet you continue to be ungrateful.”
His smile returns to his lips, only making my brows crease in confusion.
“What?!” I snarl.
“How do you do it?”
“Do what?!”
“Live with so much passion in you?”
I maul my lower lip, his statement taking the wind out of my sails.
“I’ve never met someone like you. Someone who puts all of herself into everything she does. Your work, your class, even your opinions.”
“A life without passion isn’t much of one.”
“I agree. You asked me if I was happy, and I told you the truth—my truth. I’m not like you, Em. I don’t have that lust for life or drive burning inside of me. How could I? My whole life, I’ve been given everything I ever wanted, even when constantly reminded that I was unworthy of it. I never had to work for anything you see around you. But I would trade all of it like that,” he snaps his fingers to drive the point home, “if I could have just a sliver of your passion.”
“It couldn’t have been that bad.”
“Believe me, it was. Where you see grandeur, I see bars meant to imprison me into being someone I’m not. Where you see privilege, I see the expectation of living up to a name I have grown up to hate. Everyone orders me to be a certain way, and I refuse to be anything but myself. I would rather trade places with someone from the Southside and live a life of squalor than have to endure another minute of trying to live up to impossible expectations.”
“Was it always that way growing up?”
“In this house, yes. But I had my friends and my cousin. They were the ones who kept me from drowning in misery. They’re my real family.”
“You never gave me the impression that you were miserable.”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
I let his admission sink in as I stare into his jeweled eyes.
“Again, you surprise me. You’re not just a pretty face, are you?”
“You think I’m pretty?” He smirks, trying to lighten the tense mood. “Say handsome, at least. I may be a miserable prick, but I’ve still got an ego the size of the Eiffel tower.”
I laugh.
“Yes. You’re very handsome.”
Stunning, actually, but I keep that to myself.
“Happy you approve,” he replies softly, his eyes falling to my lips.
We go silent for a moment, the taut air around us shifting to something far more alluring. I clear my throat and return my attention to the notes on my screen, praying it’s enough to simmer both of us down.
The little chuckle he lets out tells me I’m not fooling anyone.
“What about you? I hardly know a thing about you.”
“There’s nothing much to tell,” I reply firmly, straightening my spine.
“I highly doubt that. Just give me one little tidbit of your life. Only fair since after what I confessed, don’t you think.”
He’s right.
He gave me much food for thought. While Colt was unloading all his baggage on me, I was able to confirm my preconceived suspicions of him. Not only does Colt have no ties to The Society, but he’s completely clueless to who they are.
“Come on, professor. Don’t leave me hanging.”
He squeezes my knee, sending an electric current to my bloodstream. I pull his hand off me and place it back on his thigh.
“Fine. If you must know, I was raised by my grandfather. My parents died when I was six in a car accident,” I tell him, surprising even myself that I chose that bit of personal information to give him.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not like I remember much about them anymore.”
“Hmm. That’s the fucking saddest thing I’ve ever heard, Em.”
“Even sadder than an heir to a billionaire dynasty wanting to trade places with a Southie?”
“Touché.”
I can’t help how my chest swells at the heartfelt smile he gives me.
“You’ve spoken about your grandfather before. He must be very special to you.”
I nod, not trusting myself to use my own words when faced with the uncharacteristic compassionate smile branded on his face.
“Does he live back in Boston, where you’re from?”
I shake my head. “No. He passed away five years ago. Cancer.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, pulling a stray lock of my hair from my bun and placing it delicately back behind my ear.
There is another silent moment between us as we both recognize the suffering in each other’s eyes, powerless not to le
t the other see the stifled despair we’ve tried so hard to hide.
“I… hum… we should really get back to work.” I clear my throat again before I do something stupid like kiss my student.
Again.
“Of course,” he concedes, and this time goes back to his notes and lets me return to mine.
After an hour or so, Colt tells me he’s going to fix us a snack for us to eat. For someone as narcissistic as he portrays himself to be, he is oddly considerate at times.
While he’s gone, I get up from my seat and stretch my legs walking through the library filled to the brim with first edition books. But as always, my feet lead me to the one place in this library that is still a mystery to me—the closed vitrine bookcase. The brown skin diaries under the pale glass mock me, whispering to me how inside its pages I will finally unlock the secrets I’ve spent most of my adult life chasing after.
I know Colt will be at least ten to twenty minutes before his return.
Do I dare?
Yes. Yes, I do.
I take a bobby pin out of my hair and begin to unlock the case. It takes me a few tries, but I jump for joy when I finally hear it click open. I pull out the first ledger on the upper shelf, thinking the beginning is always a good place to start. I flip page after page, ever so carefully, in order not to rip the ancient book. I wish I could take it home with me, but I’m not sure if its disappearance wouldn’t go unnoticed. Just as I’m thinking of taking the gamble and taking it with me anyway, a particular entry grabs my attention.
“This is it,” I whisper, my heart pounding so loudly I miss the clicking sound of high heels approaching near me. I close the ledger in my hands and pray the smile on my lips is enough to fool the woman who is currently staring daggers at me.
“You must be the spirited young professor I’ve heard so much about,” Colleen Richfield says in greeting.
Even without introducing herself, no one can mistake the immaculately dressed blonde to be the lady of the house. If her designer clothes and expensive jewelry didn’t out her, her regal air does.
“I’m sure anything Colt has said about me is highly exaggerated.”
“My son hasn’t breathed a word for or against you, Miss Harper,” she adds, eyeing me up and down.
“Oh? Then who?”
I straighten my spine as her scrutinizing glower persists in skating over my body, head to toe, instead of answering me.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Richfield,” I add, finally remembering my manners, even if she has not.
“Hmm,” she hums, slowly sauntering toward me. Every click of her heel is in syntony to my racing heartbeat.
“Thank you for letting me into your home. Your library has helped immensely with my research.”
“So I see,” she retorts, only a few inches away from me.
In her red sole stiletto heels and cream fitted dress, the blonde woman before me doesn’t look old enough to have children, let alone four almost full-grown ones. But it’s not her ageless beauty that has me frozen to my spot. It’s the artic coldness in her gaze that chills me to the bone.
“Mother.” Colt’s voice rings out from behind us, and the audible sigh of relief that leaves my lungs echoes through the room.
Colleen doesn’t acknowledge her son in any way, as she takes the ledger from my hands and places it back into the bookcase. Once she’s certain the bookshelf is once again locked, she heads toward the door, only stopping for a brief second when she’s about to bypass her son.
“Next time, don’t leave your friends unattended, dear. You never know what trouble they can find themselves in.”
Chapter 17
Emma
“I must say I was surprised to receive your call.”
“You were?”
“Yes. Although I thought our lunch date last time was lovely, I figured it was a one-time thing sort of situation,” Montgomery explains, composed, sipping on his wine. “You didn’t seem very invested in us socializing off-campus. Or am I completely off base?”
‘Not by a long shot,’ I think to myself.
I offer him a meek smile because that’s how Montgomery Ryland likes his women—subdued and polite. I’ve done my homework on the dean enough to know that about him.
“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I guess I’m rustier than I thought I was with this whole dating thing. But I do enjoy your company.”
“I’m so happy to hear it.”
The waiter comes with our order and places the plates in front of us. Unlike last time, I couldn’t wait by the phone for him to arrange a meal together. I knew if I called him with a dinner invitation, he would jump at the chance, even if it meant him driving all the way to Charlotte to do it. I made sure to pick a restaurant that had an inviting southern feel to it enough to placate his expectations of tonight, but nothing along the lines of a candlelight dinner that could feed his romantic notions of me.
I bid my time and talk shop until I can insert what I really want to know.
“I heard a little tidbit about you recently.”
“Have you? Doing your background check on me?” he muses, cutting into his steak.
“Nothing of the sort. It just came up in idle conversation with one of the faculty members.”
“My name came up in conversation that wasn’t regarding work?”
“Is that so hard to believe? You’re a highly respected member of Ashville. I would assume you were accustomed to having people talk about you all the time.” I try and stroke his ego.
“It’s been my experience that when your name is in the mouths of some people, not all of them will have kind words to say. But I do admit I’m now intrigued with what you might have heard about me.”
“I was told you were born on the Southside. Is that true?”
A smirk plays on his lips as he keeps slicing through his sirloin.
“Does that surprise you?”
“If I’m honest, yes, it does. Rare is the occasion that someone from that part of town can rise and make a name for himself in Asheville.”
He plays with his wine glass as he gazes upon me.
“You’re quite right. It is difficult. However, as you can see, not unheard of.”
I take a sip of my wine, wondering if every piece of information will be this difficult to obtain. Just like last time, Montgomery measures his words.
“You must have worked very hard to get where you are today,” I say at last.
“I won’t lie to you. There were plenty of sacrifices I needed to make, and not everyone in this town made it easy for me.”
“How so?”
“Let’s just say that most of Asheville prefer their poor not to cross the invisible line between Southside and Northside. I guess I was lucky I made it through the crack. Once I got a scholarship to Richfield, they couldn’t deny my potential, no matter how many were skeptical of it, to begin with.”
That’s it, Montgomery. We’re almost there.
“It was fortunate that you attended such a school then. Both professionally and personally. If I recall, last time you told me you ended up meeting your wife at a Northside soiree.”
“You have quite the memory.” He frowns.
Oh, oh. Not this shit again.
Come on, dean. You’re so close.
Don’t go mute on me now.
“I try to memorize important details of the people I care about.” Just as I intended, this little comment is enough to break through his skyscraper walls and get us back to where we need to be. “So tell me, was it love at first sight?” I bat my eyes at him, acting as if I’m desperate to hear a love story rather than the real information I hunger for.
“You really aren’t from Asheville, are you?” He chuckles, amused with himself.
No, I’m not Montgomery.
Good thing I’m hiding my Beantown temper since I’d have slapped that stupid high and mighty look off your condescending brow by now.
“Does that mean you don’t f
all in love in Asheville as you do everywhere else in the world?” I counter teasingly, clenching my fist under the table.
“Let’s just say the Northside has its particular way of doing things and love hardly ever comes into the equation.”
“Hmm, sounds oddly cold to me.”
“It can be for some.” His eyes darken in displeasure.
“Looks to me as if you might have some experience in the matter.”
“Nothing gets past you, does it, sweetheart?”
“I guess you can say that.”
Call me sweetheart again and see how well that works out for you.
Breathe Em.
He’s only a means to the end.
If my intel doesn’t pan out, I can show him how I truly feel about him.
Until then, suck it up and get the job done.
I can’t believe I ever thought this man handsome or appealing in any way. His pompous attitude irks me to no end. At first, I thought him charming intellectually, but the more time I spend time with him, the more I realize his intellect isn’t to impart wisdom but to make others feel minuscule for not having the same high IQ. I’ve witnessed first-hand him ridicule his colleagues with backhanded comments in staff meetings and belittle them in his office. At first, I thought him to be a perfectionist like me, only satisfied when the job is done right. But now I see him for what he really is—a narcissistic bully in a suede jacket.
“Are you going to share your experience, or do I have to pry it out of you?”
“As you wish.” He laughs before taking another sip of his wine. “As I told you before, I was one of the lucky ones to get accepted into Richfield. My whole life changed the minute I started school. The classes were so demanding and stimulating that I found myself on cloud nine. The world was finally opening its doors to me, where once they had been closed shut on my face. And then my world toppled over once more when one fateful night I catered a party and met a girl.”
“Your future wife, you mean,” I add.
“Yes, I did meet Dorethea that night, but she wasn’t the one I became enamored with. It was Sierra Richfield that left me completely in awe.”