I pushed the trolley to the door and left, hearing him pick up the phone and switch on the commanding voice he never used with me. I waved goodbye to Jeannette as I headed towards the gold elevators leading back to the main entrance. The older woman waved back as she spoke into her headset. I was quickly becoming accustomed to the silent waves and the smiles over business phone conversations.
Once in the elevator, I hit the button and leaned on the ornate sides. I was having a wonderful time in New York, but some days, I barely understood what I was doing here. These dinner visits were the highlight of my day. I knew Jack and I had a connection, but I wasn’t sure if we could ever actually make this work. There wasn’t anything for me to do, except spend Jack’s money and bother Rachel, and neither of those things were in my nature. I needed something to do.
***
I lay in bed, comfy in my worn PJs, debating opening the newest copy of The Press laying on my nightstand. I was emblazoned on the cover, thankfully wearing one of the beautiful outfits Rachel deemed suitable, walking around the city. It had been on one of my recent shopping excursions with Rachel. She wielded a credit card like a magic wand and enjoyed finding things for me to wear. If nothing else, our excursions gave me something to do, and I was forming a friendship with Rachel. I had stopped looking at price tags after the first store rang up my three pairs of pants at more than a month’s pay with overtime. Rachel never batted an eyelash at the numbers, letting the purchases pile up in the chauffeured car.
I flipped open the cover, landing on the article about me. Rachel had placed a large sticky note over the first paragraph with the words, “are you sure you want to read this?” I smiled and lifted it off the page. I liked Rachel. She had a subtle sense of humor that caught me off guard. She was fiercely protective of Jack, and the love and respect she had for him only made me like her more. She had grown up in a smaller town than mine, and we spent much of our shopping excursions swapping stories about home. She was quickly becoming the older sister I never had, and I was more than grateful to have her with me in this strange place.
Emma LaRue—the mysterious woman who has stolen the heart of a billionaire! See what her friends and family have to say! exclaimed the headline. The “friends and family” were people I barely knew. My real friends and family had signed confidentiality agreements and weren’t speaking to the press without approval. Emma’s best friend from elementary school, Hannah Smithson, remembers her being a shy and studious girl. “I always got along really well with Emma. She was easy to talk to.” Hannah? I hadn’t spoken to her since third grade and we were convinced there was a unicorn in the woods behind the school. I shook my head at the lengths the tabloids were going to in order to get a story.
The magazine had a few more pictures, obviously snapped from sidewalks as I hurried out of the winter air into stores. I wondered how cold those photographers had gotten waiting for me to emerge from a store. Spring was on its way, but winter still had an icy grip on the city’s weather. The last page of the article had a short note at the bottom: Do you have any information on Emma LaRue? The Press would love to hear your stories! Call to inquire about our payments for photos! Jack’s father’s policy of do nothing and keep everyone quiet was working so far, but the entire tone of the article made it clear that readers were clamoring for more. It was a strange feeling.
I set the magazine back on the nightstand and checked my phone. I loved my new phone. I had spent the better part of a day setting it all up and playing with all the games and features, and I still found new and fun things to do with it. I had one unread message from Jack.
I grinned and opened it like it was a present.
Not going to make it home tonight.
Not quite the present I was hoping for. I could feel the pout on my face as the question rose in my mind again. What was I doing here? While I loved my dinners with Jack, my days were full of boredom. Rachel promised to find me a job at the company so that I could at least feel useful, but even then, working for Jack wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. I missed my job at the Vet Clinic, missed working with animals and the people that came with them. For the millionth time that week, I wondered what was going to happen once all the publicity of our pseudo-marriage was finally sorted. I knew Jack had lawyers looking into the validity of the marriage, but we both knew it wouldn’t stand up in a court of law. We had never intended it to.
My phone chirped. I’m going to make it up to you though.
How?
Tomorrow night. Wear something fancy. I’m taking you to La Maison.
I grinned. La Maison wasn’t the fanciest restaurant in New York, but it was pretty close. More important than the fanciness of the restaurant was the significance it held for Jack. La Maison was the restaurant that his father always took his mother for special anniversaries. It was where Daniel proposed to Bianca, so having Jack take me there meant something.
Do I get you all to myself?