“You’ll get over it when you see how perfect it is,” Brock replied.
“I’m already over it. I think it’s so romantic.” Bella grinned up at Brock like a big, doe-eyed Bambi. Damn her, she even batted her eyelids.
Brock reached out and patted Bella’s hair. “Nice Kitty.” Then, the pair of them grinned like they’d found the stash and helped themselves.
“I’m fighting a losing battle.” Sarah couldn’t believe that Bella had absolutely no resistance to this idea, or that she and Brock thought they were starring on the comedy hour.
“I don’t want you to feel pressured, Sarah. But you do need to be safe and not living in a dump.”
“It’s not a dump. It’s compact and basic, but it’s not a dump.” Every hair on Sarah’s neck prickled in defense. Just because she chose to live in Averswood, it didn’t mean she was less of a person.
Bella said, “It’s the community we love, isn’t it, Sarah? The sense of being a part of something, and understanding that people may have no money, but they have the most valuable commodity in the world to share. Love.”
Sarah watched Brock. His face softened a little. Without the hard edge, he was even more handsome. Darkness loomed in his eyes. He had baggage. He was human and could hurt. Maybe was still hurting.
“Indeed, Bella, indeed.” Brock answered, and then the lift doors opened. The fifteenth floor. He led the way, and Sarah had to admit the whole place was very upmarket—although it didn’t have to be much to beat from where they were.
Bella was right, sure the place was, well, a dump, but the loveliest people lived there. People who took nothing for granted because they knew life could be taken away any moment. It was a real community. Supporting and sharing, helping out. Sarah wondered what they would all think when Sarah and Bella moved in here and suddenly had money.
She tried not to think about that and studied the décor instead. The pale walls with carefully placed artworks along the wide hallway gave a quiet, relaxing feel. Very tasteful. Understated yet with impact. Sarah had imagined her own home decorated in a similar fashion one day.
“It’s so quiet,” Bella said.
“I’m sure you two ladies can liven things up a little.” Brock swiped a card and opened a door. “This is the self-contained communal area. You each have your own door, only opened by your own cards. Both cards will open this one, but you can’t use the other card to open to your personal quarters.”
“Wow. I mean…this is amazing. Oh my God, a fireplace! Light it right now! Look at the huge bookshelf; I can get my books out of boxes. I guess I won’t be needing them to sit on anymore.” Bella twirled around. “Friday wines will be so awesome in here. Brock you’ll have to join us one night. We can tell you our stories.”
“Bella. Mr. Devlin…Brock…” Sarah quickly corrected “…is my boss, and soon to be yours, it seems. So I don’t think sharing cheap boxed wine on a Friday night with us is really appropriate, or desirable. I’m sure his Friday nights are full enough being the country’s most eligible bachelor and businessman with the highest worth.”
“Just one night, to say thank you, Sarah. That’s all I want. I’d never get an opportunity to have a job I love, let alone live in a place like this, and be with my best friend.”
“I’d love to join you both. Thank you. I’m free this coming Friday evening.”
“Yay! Thanks, Brock. I’ll make snacks.” Bella clapped her hands rapidly.
Sarah hit her in the arm. “Traitor.”
“Here is your apartment key card, Bella. Go take a look around. It’s partly furnished, but of course you will swap it out for your own stuff when ready. Keep the card for the night.” Brock handed Bella hers, and then held Sarah’s out for her.
“I’m going to lounge around for a few hours and get a feel for the place. If Sarah agrees I’ll be happy to move in here and discuss work options.” Bella looked serious. “But if you don’t want to, Sarah. I’ll stick by you. Okay? Do not do this for me. You need to be happy.”
Sarah nodded, and the warmth of Bella’s hug helped her to relax. “Thanks. Bella. I couldn’t do this without you.”
“Thanks to Brock, you don’t have to. And don’t forget to have that talk with him. I’ll meet you back at home later, and you can tell me what you’ve decided. I have a hot date this afternoon.” She waggled her eyebrows.
Sarah wished Bella hadn’t said anything about talking to Brock because she knew he wouldn’t let it go until he found out what she meant.
Sarah smiled when Bella’s squeal of delight sounded through the wall. “This place is definitely a winner for Bella.”
“And what about you, Sarah?” Brock moved in closer. Too close. Her body reacted immediately. Everything about Brock Devlin kept her motor running. “I’d like to think I’d chosen well for you.”
Sarah opened her door and stepped through. Stunning came to mind. The high-end finishes and attention to detail made her feel like Alice stepping into Wonderland, as she walked through the hall, past a bedroom, and into the living area.
She gasped and clutched her hand to her heart when she saw artworks by her brother on the wall. The ones her parents had hidden from her since her brother’s death. What the hell? Was anything she had private anymore? Sarah’s chest shutdown and despite taking huge breaths she didn’t feel like the air was going in.
Fleeting pains sparked around her heart, and her limbs stiffened, as the panic attack set in. No. No. Not now. Not here with him. The throat constriction started and the fear took over. Stop being an idiot. He’s going to think you’re crazy. Sarah tried to breathe hard and deep. But no air would go in. She felt faint and ill. Why did she ever think this was a good idea? Why did she think she could ever be normal?
“Sarah. Sarah. It’s okay. Calm down. Think happy thoughts, Sarah. I’m sorry, if I’d known what this would do to you. Oh, Sarah, I’m such a dick.”
She could hear him, but his voice sounded far away, he looked far away, and she was sure this was the time she was going to die. This was it.
“Sarah, please. Sit down. What do I need to do?” He put his arms around her, and the edge of the darkness skirted with light. “I’m here, Sarah. I’m an idiot. I promise I’ll never do anything like this again.” He held her close, and Sarah realized they were sitting on the sofa, and he still held her whispering things to her.
Her throat eased up a little, and her arms and legs relaxed. Her heart still tried to hammer out of her tight, sore chest, but she tried to breathe more evenly and calm. Then, she realized Brock was talking her through the breaths. She tried her best to calm down, but every time she looked at her brother’s art and remembered he wasn’t here because of her parents she couldn’t breathe again.
More long, slow breaths. He rubbed her shoulders. Why did I have to make myself look so useless in front of him? He’ll laugh at me. He won’t want me to work for him now. That deadly inner voice hadn’t stopped. That was the worst part.
“That’s better. Your breathing is more normal now.” He kept rubbing her back.
She had calmed a little. She glanced back up at the art and breathed through it. It’s ok. You’re fine. That was years ago. Nice even breaths. Her body shook a little less.
“Good. You sound a lot calmer. How do you feel?”
The cramping chest and throat had subsided, and the pains had faded into a dull ache. Her throat felt raw and dry. “Can I have some water?” All she managed was a raspy whisper.
“Sure. Are you okay while I go and get some?”
She nodded. He’d stayed with her, comforted her. He wasn’t running a mile away, making excuses as he almost fell backwards going out the door. He wasn’t yelling at her, or laughing. Brock had done his best, even though he had no clue what was happening to her. But her anger with him was still real.
If she bottled it up, would she ever be able to look at this art without having a guilty panic attack? Bella was right. Sarah had to move on from the past and ignoring it
wasn’t helping. She needed to experience the feelings. Express them. She wondered if he would still be around after this.
Clearly, Brock Devlin was used to just taking what he wanted. People fell over themselves to keep him happy so much he had no understanding he’d crossed a line. None of her situation was his fault, but his trying to manipulate her at every turn to get what he wanted had to stop.
She had to set some boundaries and very clear ones. Maybe she couldn’t help how she felt about him sexually, but she could draw the line where her personal life and past were concerned.
Seeing those beautiful abstract oils, framed and hanging, ripped the scars back to open wounds. She’d been so angry when she’d found her brother hanging there, so angry he’d gone and left her alone, and she was so angry now.
But the art was here, and he’d the best of intentions, so it seemed. He’s going to hurt your stupid ass. Now, she felt back to normal. She’d gotten through another panic attack, but not alone. Brock assisted her and supported her, but he had brought in the catalyst that started it.
“What game are you playing?” She spoke quietly but firmly.
“No game. If I’d known…I thought you’d love to see them.”
“I do. But that’s hardly the point. What gives you the right to put my life under a microscope?”
“I told you the company does thorough checks.”
“Can you even hear yourself right now?”
“What?” he stood up and paced the floor.
“Brock, you can’t see it, can you? It might be a billionaire thing, but you can’t keep thinking you know what’s best for me. You haven’t lived my life.”
“I’m sorry, but the company…”
“If you say it’s company policy one more time, so help me…I’ll get the folder full of policies and stick them where the sun don’t shine. You wanted this for you. Not me.” She waved her arms indicating the apartment. “You aren’t treating me like any other employee. You’re treating me like a special project. Like some Eliza Doolittle from My Fair Lady.”
“I’ve done the same for many employees.” He looked away, and she knew he still hadn’t got why she was upset.
“So you look up everyone’s drug-overdosed, artistic, dead brother’s artwork and hang the works on the walls for them? Stop hiding behind the damn company and grow a set, will you?” Sarah moved a step back from him. The anger still seethed through her. But it wasn’t a panic attack, so far so good.
“Drug overdose? I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Brock looked surprised, but it wasn’t enough to stop the rush of emotions hitting Sarah right now.
“Of course you didn’t know. You were too busy trying to be my savior instead of my friend.” She wanted to cry, or scream. She wanted to hit something. “You have no right to try and fix things for me. To try and fix me. To get me on your side so you can get me to have sex with you.”
“Sarah…I—”
“Shut up. Just shut up.” Sarah held her hands over her ears. Her voice peaked with frustration. “You just don’t get it, do you? You can’t even understand why I’m hurt and angry.”
“Of course, I can understand it. You don’t have a monopoly on being hurt, let down, and abandoned.”
“Then, why find the one thing that will rip me apart. Are you trying to break me down emotionally, so I’m dependent on you?”
Brock just stood and stared at her. Then, he flopped down on the sofa. “No, Sarah. That’s the last thing I want. Don’t you get it? I like you. I never like anyone. I respect people. I admire people. I hate people. I can even love people, but I just simply do not like them. Ever.”
“That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. You’re playing God in a world of people you don’t even like?”
“I’m not playing God.”
“Wait. You throw me into a job, I don’t think I’m even ready for. You find me a place to live, and include my best friend, and artwork by my dead brother. You’ve likely got the perfect car ready for me…” She waited for his answer.
“I guess it is a little God-like.”
“A little?”
“Okay a lot.
“If all of that is perfectly normal to you, you have serious issues.”
“I’m trying to be organized.”
“You know what? Organize your own life. Not mine.”
Brock threw his arms up. “Alright. Point taken. I stepped over the line. I’ll try not to do that anymore. What do you mean you don’t think you can handle the job?”
Sarah sighed and sat down on the sofa opposite. “Brock, seriously, your company is huge. What if I stuff it up? I could live on one year’s salary for the rest of my life. I know what happens here…where I’ve worked…for the most part. But internationally? No way.”
“Sarah, whatever you think you need to give you faith in your abilities, you got it. Training. Travel. Anything.”
“I’m not sure I can handle the global aspect of it all.”
“I think you can. I admit, we did throw you in at the deep end.”
“I’m human. I’m not a robot. I need some time to digest all of this, and adjust. I can’t just change overnight.”
“I guess I’ve lived this life for so long now, I’ve forgotten how big an adjustment it is.”
Well, that was a start. For now, Sarah was satisfied he’d connected the dots. But she had one burning question left. “How did you get the paintings?” Sarah couldn’t stop from crying. She had to know, and yet she knew it would tear her apart. This part of her life had been in lockdown for five years.
“I went to visit your parents.”
“God.” Breathe. Don’t shut down. Breathe. They aren’t here; they can’t hurt you.
“They asked me to pass them on to you.”
“This is so not okay.”
“Sarah, believe me. I’m trying to make you happy. I want to see you happy. They said the same. Said they were sorry for the pain they’d caused you and your brother.”
“When hell is serving ice cream cones, I’ll believe that.”
“This has backfired in a major way for me.”
“Just for the record, you can’t ever make me happy by violating my privacy. It’s way over the line.”
“You’re right. It is. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m sorry, Sarah. If I’d known how upset you’d be…”
“How much did you pay for them?”
“Nothing.”
“If you are going to invade every facet of my life, at least give me the common courtesy of not lying to me. My parents would not let them go for nothing. That’s not their MO.”
“One million.”
Sarah needed to sit. “My life used to be shit, but right now…it’s mega-shit.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Really? Stalker boss buys off parents for dead brother’s paintings they’ve hidden for years as punishment for not paying them off to fund their drug habit. Are you hearing how that is smack-bang on the middle of Crazytown?”
“Drug habit?”
“Yes. My childhood was being a parent to my two incapable parents. Trying to sell drugs to my friends so they could afford their next hit. I never had friends. I couldn’t.”
“Well, they are out of your life now.”
Sarah gave a raw laugh laced with disbelief. “No. No, they aren’t. You’ve just given them a golden ticket straight back into my world because now they know you care enough about me to pay for these.” She indicated the beautifully mounted paintings. “They know they can exploit you for more because of me, and believe me they’ll know how much you are worth. It’s been all over the news.”
“I made an agreement with them.”
“Good luck with that. Agreements are for honest people”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll sort it out when it happens. The question is, are you going to sign this lease? You can hate me all you want, but this place is perfect and you know it.”
“I’ll give you si
x months here. By then Bella and I will decide if we want to move on, but you have to promise this is the very last thing you will ever do to interfere with my life without my input.”
“I promise.”
“If you micro-manage me one more time, I’ll walk away from everything, including the job. I make my own decisions.”
“Deal. And to prove I mean it, I’ll let you take me out to lunch. Your choice of restaurant. No pressure.”
Sarah stared at him. “You’re impossible.”
Chapter Eleven
“You know, you can afford not to eat at a fast food restaurant now.”
Sarah smiled across at him, clearly enjoying him being folded into the back of the slim booth. “I haven’t had my first pay yet. How was your burger?”
“I actually quite enjoyed it. I think next time I’ll get Harry to bring the limo through the drive through. He has to take up three parking spaces out there. He’s copping some flak for it.”
“I’ll take him an ice cream cone. He’ll love it. I haven’t had one of these burgers for months.”
“I haven’t had one since I was ten.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Amazingly, it all tastes exactly as I remember.”
“There’s something to be said for product guarantee. You know how it will look, how it will taste, how much it will cost, and it’s available anytime. It isn’t fine dining, but it is the most popular way to eat out in this country. Possibly the western world.”
“Great business model for sure.”
“So where did you grow up?”
Brock hesitated in answering for a moment. Should he tell her the truth or the version he usually came up with? “Here in the city.”
“Ok, cool. Same as me. Although you likely didn’t grow up in the high crime areas like me.”
“If you’re asking if I was born into money…sort of, but I never got the benefit of the fortune my father left. But I did have a substantial trust fund waiting when I turned twenty-five. But I’d already made ten times that by then.”
He watched Sarah calculate the information she’d just received, and her face softened. She wiped her hand and placed it on top of his. “I’m sorry to hear you lost your father as a child.”
INDISPENSABLE: Part 1: A Billionaire Romance Page 6