Modern Romance June 2019 Books 5-8. Andie Brock
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of the word quit.
“Yes?” he asked with deliberate lack of concern that bordered on tedium.
“When I say everything...”
“That doesn’t exactly clean up your mess, does it?” He let fury lick at him because it was better than allowing her magnificence to blind him.
“If Luli isn’t needed, everything under that profile must also be unnecessary,” she said with simple logic.
“Come here.”
She stayed where she was, but had the good sense to take her hands off the laptop and close the screen.
“Do you realize how dangerous I am?”
“Do you realize,” she asked in an even quieter voice, lips white, “how little I have to lose? How much I’ve already lost?”
Eight years, if she was to be believed.
Her hands were curled into angry fists, but stayed at her sides. “You’re welcome, by the way, for all the times I’ve asked your grandmother, Is this an opportunity you would like me to bring to your grandson’s attention? You could have stepped in at any time to help her manage her affairs. You didn’t. I did. For nothing but a roof over my head and three meals a day.”
“And you think you can strike back at me for that? By deleting a few paper trails? Any database or personnel records you compromise can be rebuilt from backups. It won’t take long and the price tag won’t be that high.”
“I estimate the cost at ten million US dollars, based on penalties for failing to finalize certain contracts on time. Or you could keep me on and not lose a penny.”
“Is that what you think you’re worth?” he scoffed. “Ten million dollars?”
His words pushed a pin in her back, forcing her to take a step toward him. Anger smoldered around her in a cloud, making her entirely too sexy and distracting when her voice was so sharp and profound.
“I’ve spent years thinking my value is less than zero. I thought I had to stay here because Mae was the only person who wanted me, and only if I was useful to her. From the moment I emailed you that she had collapsed, my only thought has been that I have to prove my worth to you, but how do I do that when I’m a walking, unpaid debt?” Her hand moved to press into her middle, as though clutching at a knife stuck in her navel. “The debt is my mother’s. I am worth exactly what I decide I’m worth. If I’m to be exploited, I will choose the terms. And if you’re going to put me on the street like a stray dog, you will feel the bite of it.”
A discreet knock on the door had him snapping out, “Busy!”
An older brown-faced woman was already peeking in. “I’m sorry, Mr. Dean. I was told you left instructions I report to you the minute I returned.”
“Mrs. Chen’s nurse,” Luli said, stepping back and letting her hair fall forward to shield how color had risen in her face during their confrontation.
He swore under his breath and nodded at the woman. “Come in.”
He swung back to Luli and pointed at her laptop. “Put that on hold for a few hours. Then tell the butler to prepare us dinner.” He needed a damned minute to think.
The nurse bounced her gaze between the two of them as Luli moved to the desk and tapped a few keys. Seconds later, Luli closed the door behind her.
The nurse didn’t give him any information he didn’t already have. She offered condolences; he promised a severance package so she could take her time finding another position. She bowed slightly when he dismissed her.
“Wait,” he said. “How long have you been with my grandmother?”
She turned back, expression brightening the way most of his employees did when he gave them the opportunity to prove their value to him.
“Almost twenty years, sir.”
“You’ve known Luli since she came here? How long has she been working here in my grandmother’s office?”
“From the beginning, sir.”
“That was my grandmother’s idea? Was she competent? My grandmother, I mean. Mentally.”
“Oh, completely, sir! But Mrs. Chen never cared for telephones or computers.” Her hand washed such things from the air. “She thought them unhealthy and brought Luli in as a convenience. Luli spoke Spanish and your grandmother had recently acquired properties in South America.”
“Luli was quite young when she arrived? What was she like?” Scared? Angry?
“Quiet.” The nurse’s expression faltered as she delved into her memory.
“Because she only spoke Spanish?” He seldom thought about his teen years, but recalled adolescent girls traveling in colorful flocks and relentlessly twittering at each other. No matter what the truth was today, Luli must have felt isolated at the time.
“She spoke a little English, but it was the patch that was the problem. I had to remove it from her tongue. I had completely forgotten about that,” the nurse said with a distant frown.
“What kind of patch?” he asked sharply.
“For weight loss. It makes it painful to eat solids. She was already stick thin, but young women will do the stupidest things to themselves in the name of fashion. Mrs. Chen saved her from herself, if you want my opinion.”
A CRISP RAP on her door snapped her awake.
Luli glanced at her alarm clock, but it wouldn’t go off for another hour. She had set it so she wouldn’t oversleep resetting the timer on the laptop.
“Luli,” he said. “Open the door or I’m coming in.”
She quickly rose and brushed her hands down her wrinkled dress, then opened the door to Gabriel’s glower.
He glanced past her to the dented pillow on the single bed, the plain walls and utilitarian night table with only a clock and hairbrush upon it.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Sleeping.”
“You’re supposed to be eating dinner with me. Why did you tell the butler I wanted to eat with him?”
“You said, Tell the butler to prepare us dinner. I presumed us meant him.”
“No, you didn’t,” he said flatly.
It had been open for interpretation and she’d been dead on her feet. Also, there was no way the butler would believe the new master of the house wanted to eat with her unless he heard it directly from Gabriel himself. He and all the rest of the staff had given her apprehensive looks, everyone asking, What did you tell him?
And, exactly as she did when it came to her closed-door conversations with Mrs. Chen, she had given up nothing—earning zero friends in the process.
Now she’d made Gabriel angry. She’d fallen asleep thinking about his nearly kissing her, imagining things she barely understood. What would it feel like to have his lips on hers, his hand moving to her bottom? Her breasts. Between her legs.
Fresh heat pressed there, disconcerting her. How was it that all she had to do was think about him, stand before him, and quivers shook her abdomen and her mouth watered? It was mortifying.
“I’m not hungry,” she tried in a voice that scraped.
“I’m not requesting.”
His hard tone told her that all the work she’d put into giving herself leverage had left her with virtually