His Forbidden Heart: A Billionaire Marriage of Convenience Romance by Aimee Bishop

Author:Aimee Bishop [Bishop, Aimee]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2018-06-04T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 9

ONE WEEK LATER

The letter hadn't left my desk since it was handed to me. I'd read it a hundred times, getting angrier and angrier every time I cast my eyes over the words.

"Hey, are you still there?" asked Cheryl on the phone.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm just still in shock."

It had been all I'd talked about all week, the one thought that eclipsed all others.

"Try not to worry about it. They have no right to take her away," she tried to reassure me.

"Well, they seem to think they can. Listen to this... As a close-knit family, we feel that we could provide a more stable environment for Gracie as opposed to Stephanie, a single mother who is unfamiliar with the area and lacks a foundation and stable working environment... I mean, nonsense. Total nonsense! Christian and David weren't even close! It makes no sense. What the hell is going on here? I've never met anyone with the absolute audacity to behave like this. I'm so livid, Cheryl, absolutely beside myself with anger about this."

"Shhh... it's okay. You'll get through this. You've been through worse."

First I had to lose Suzanna and David, and now this. I felt as though my mind was unraveling, as though I was struggling to cope.

"Look, I gotta go," I said as I looked up at the clock. "I have my big meeting with the boss in a couple of minutes."

"Good luck!" she beamed. "You'll be fine."

I hung up with a heavy heart. I missed having her nearby.

Waiting until the clock hit one on the dot, I made my way through to Maxwell's desk where he was waiting for me, chewing on the end of his gold pen.

"Nice and on time," he said. "Take a seat."

Things were less awkward between us, and his cool demeanor had warmed up, but hadn't dissolved completely over the week. He remained distant, still keeping up the appearance that he was better than everyone around him. Even so, we got along quite nicely. I was feeling a growing fondness for him. I noticed my heart skip a beat whenever he walked into the room.

"So tell me, how have things here been for you this week?"

"Erm... good. I think. I've been enjoying it here."

He nodded and tapped his pen against the side of his desk.

"Okay, let's get to it. I think you've been good here too. You're a solid worker; you're on time, you're polite, people like you and you make an excellent macchiato. I say you stay. You’d make a fine assistant."

I let out a little squeal then reigned it in.

“I say we celebrate,” he said. “How about dinner? My place at eight?”

"Tonight?"

"No, tomorrow morning."

That deadpan look was back on his face again.

"Eight tonight," I said. "Sure, I'll be there."

I found it a little odd that he invited me to his house for dinner. But they did things a bit differently in this tiny town than they did in the city. And if I was being honest with myself, I was looking forward to it.

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