My eyes flash to his. “No.”
He puts his coffee down on the floor. Then, he takes both the cups from me, putting them next to his.
He takes my face in his hands. One hand is warmer than the other from the coffee he was holding.
“You don’t need to struggle or worry about this. I have the money to pay for whatever treatment Casey needs. Then, you can just focus on being there for her.”
“It’s not your money. It’s your parents’ money.” That came out sounding way harsher than I’d intended.
He drops his hands from my face and takes a step back.
“I’m sorry.” I blow out a breath. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“You’re right. It is their money. And they do nothing good with it. I never have. Let me do something good. Let me help Casey and you and your dad.”
“We’re not a charity case, Adam.”
“I didn’t mean it that way, and you know it.”
“I know. God, I’m sorry.” I press a hand to my head. Everything I’m saying to him right now keeps coming out wrong and bitchy.
I reach for his hand, and he lets me take it.
“I appreciate your offer to help. I love you for it, but I can’t accept it—not just me, but my dad, too,” I say quickly when he parts his lips to speak. “He’s a proud man. It’s hard enough for him that I work to help us make ends meet.”
“Accepting help isn’t a weakness, Evie.”
“I know, but…just let me handle this.”
Letting go of my hand, he stares down at the floor, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Then, he looks back up, a determination on his face, and steps into my space, pressing his body to mine, holding my face with his hands. My hands go to his waist.
“Okay, Evie. We’ll do this your way…for now. But if things get too hard, then I’m helping, no matter what you or your dad say, you hear me?”
I curl my fingers into his shirt. “Okay,” I say.
But as his lips touch softly to mine, I know I just lied to him for the first time because there is no way I’ll take his money.
This is my family, and it’s my problem to solve.
“Adam?” Mark’s voice comes through on the intercom. “A woman in reception is claiming to be…well, she says she’s your wife, and she’s demanding to see you. As far as I know, you aren’t married, but I wanted to call you first before I have security escort her from the building.”
“Is she blonde, tiny, and goes by the name Evie?”
“One minute. I’ll check with Serena.”
He’s back a few seconds later. “Yes to all three.”
I can’t help the smile that crawls onto my lips. Evie telling people that she’s my wife, demanding to see me, can only mean one thing. She’s pissed. She always was feisty when she got going. Guess that hasn’t changed.
“Let her up. And, Mark, I don’t want this being public knowledge. Tell Serena that if I hear one word about this from anyone else or see anything in the press, she’s fired, without references, and I will personally make sure she never works in this town again.”
“I’ll relay the message.”
I release the button on the intercom and lean back in my chair.
I’m not ashamed that Evie is my wife. God, the day we got married, I wanted to shout it from the rooftop.
But Serena is a fucking gossip. She could rival Perez Hilton. And she’s made it more than clear that she wants me to fuck her. I never have for two reasons. One, she’s blonde. And two? I don’t fuck my staff. Too messy.