And the news had just broken. I said, "Get out!" Evelyn screamed, grabbing a crystal paper weight and hurling it. It missed Bruno by a foot, smashing into the doorframe. Bruno didn't flinch. He had dealt with a grieving six-year-old.
He knew that anger was just sadness with a shield. He walked forward slowly. Hands up. "I'm not leaving," Evelyn, he said. He didn't use her title.
She stared at him, shocked by the audacity. She looked like she was about to fire him, execute him, or collapse. She chose the latter. Her knees gave way. Bruno moved fast.
He caught her before she hit the floor. his arms going around her waist. She was shockingly light. She felt fragile, trembling like a bird against his chest. "I can't I can't breathe," she gasped, clutching the lapels of his cheap, rain damp trench coat. "You can [clears throat] look at me," Bruno commanded, his voice dropping into that calm, steady register he used when Sophie woke up from a nightmare.
"In. [clears throat] out. Just follow me." He guided her to the leather sofa in the corner and sat her down. He didn't hover. He went to the wet bar, poured a glass of water, and brought it back. He knelt in front of her, forcing her to look down at him rather than up at the world that was crushing her.
"Drink," he said. She obeyed, her hands shaking so badly he had to help her hold the glass. She took a sip, then another. The hyperventilating slowed. The room felt less like a disaster zone and more like a tomb.
"You're Bennett," she whispered after a long minute. She wiped her face, smearing the mascara further. "Junior draftsman, widower, one kid." Bruno blinked. He didn't know she even knew his name, let alone his history. Yes, you're late," she said, her voice regaining a fraction of its steel.
My daughter was sick. Also, there's traffic. Evelyn let out a laugh, but it sounded hollow, like dry leaves crunching. Traffic: My sister is marrying the only man I ever loved. And my father is announcing the merger of our companies at their engagement party today. and you're talking about traffic.
She looked at him, really looked at him for the first time. She saw the kindness in his brown eyes. She saw the weariness that matched her own. She saw a man who had walked through hell and was still standing. She looked at the clock on the wall.
9 to the engagement brunch started at 10:30 at the St. James estate. Everyone would be there. Her father, Arthur, who always preferred Clara. Clara, who took everything Evelyn built, and Preston. If Evelyn showed up alone, she [clears throat] would look like the bitter, defeated spinster sister.
The ice queen melting into a puddle of pity. She couldn't survive that. She would rather die than let them see her bleed. She needed armor. She needed a distraction.
Evelyn reached out and grabbed Bruno's tie. She pulled him closer until their faces were inches apart. He could smell her perfume. Jasmine and rain. "Bennett," she whispered, her eyes searching his.
"Do you want to keep your job?" "Miss St. James, I do you want a promotion? Do you want your daughter's medical bills paid? Do you want to never worry about money again?" Bruno's heart hammered against his ribs. What are you asking? She tightened her grip on his tie.
I can't go there alone. I can't let them see me broken. I need someone. Someone who doesn't know them. Someone who looks decent.
She looked him up and down. He was scruffy, wearing a cheap suit, but he was tall, broadshouldered. He had a jawline that could cut glass if he wasn't always hiding it behind exhaustion. Be my date today, she whispered. It wasn't a request.
It was a plea. Just for today. Be the man who loves me. Make Preston jealous. Make my father respect me.
Do this and I change your life. Bruno stared at her. This was insanity. This was the plot of a bad movie. But then he thought of the stack of bills.
He thought of Sophie's eye surgery that the insurance had denied last week. He looked at the most powerful woman in his world trembling in front of him. I don't have a tuxedo, Bruno said softly. Evelyn exhaled a long shuddering breath. She stood up, smoothing her skirt, the mask of the CEO sliding back into place, though the cracks were still visible.
"Get up, Bennett," she said, grabbing her purse. "We're going shopping." The ride down in the private elevator was silent. "Evelyn St. James didn't just have a car. She had a blackedout SUV with a driver named Henry, who looked like he used to break fingers for the CIA. Bruno sat as far away from her as the leather bench allowed.
He texted his sister. "Work emergency. Going to a site visit. Might be late." "Give me your phone," Evelyn said, extending a manicured hand. "What?
Why?" "Because if you're going to be my boyfriend, you can't have a cracked iPhone 8 with a world's best dad case. It ruins the aesthetic." Bruno handed it over. Feeling strangely violated. She dropped it into her purse and handed him a sleek, brand new device from her bag. Burner.
My number is the only one in it. Keep it. Evelyn, this is business. She cut him off, but her voice lacked its usual bite. She was staring out the window, watching the rain blur the city.
Preston and I were together for 5 years. He was the CFO of Hayes Tech. My father, Arthur, pushed for the relationship. It was good for business. But I I actually loved him.
She turned to Bruno. The vulnerability was back just for a second. He told me I was too cold, too focused on work. He wanted a wife who would stay home and host parties. Clara, my sister.
She's everything I'm not. Warm, bubbly, malleable. He sounds like an idiot, Bruno said honestly. Evelyn looked surprised. He's a genius, but he's weak.