Exposed by Fate (Serve #2)(52)

“I can’t. I can’t.” The need to get as far away from any reminder of this mistake weighed down on her. If she had the energy to sprint for the elevator, she would have. She shrugged off Caroline’s hand and dove out the door, pulling it closed behind her.

As Eliza bypassed the elevator and went for the stairs, the sounds of glass shattering followed behind her.

…

I’m going to hate every second of this job.

Eliza followed Conrad Sterns’ assistant through the frosted glass door leading to the über-modern, palatial estate. Pristine white marble floors spread out in front of her, reflecting the sunlight that beamed down from several skylights. Bobby Darin’s soothing voice played over unseen speakers, old clashing with new. Any other day, she would hum along, let herself get swept up in the music’s nostalgia, but it felt too contrived. Forced. Especially with the giant projection screen on the wall, showing where Conrad had apparently paused Grand Theft Auto in the middle of killing a civilian.

She wanted to go back to sleep. Not the kind of sleep people did in their beds, although that would work too. She wanted to go back to the zombie state she’d been hiding inside for two days, giving one word answers and excuses that she just needed coffee. In no way was she prepared to have actual discourse with another human being. A human being who could probably pay her salary for the next six months with this job. Earn her a promotion in the process.

How did one function when their insides felt demolished? By now, she should be an expert, but it only got harder with every step she took. Every breath she drew into lungs still sore from her crying jag Wednesday night. Friday morning had rolled around in the blink of an eye. She couldn’t remember a single second of what had transpired between stumbling from Oliver’s apartment until now. She only knew she hurt. So f*cking much. No way to bypass that.

Had it been her fault? It was as if her brain had placed a mental block on anything that could increase her pain out of self-preservation. The only thing she could process at this point was that she didn’t have Oliver anymore. In the back of her mind, she’d been holding out hope they would go beyond three stupid lessons. She was even woman enough to admit she’d hoped for it since that very first night at Serve, but had placed blinders on her true feelings.

She loved Oliver. She’d loved him forever. Now, that love was crushing her.

Caroline had been calling and leaving voicemails, but she hadn’t been brave enough to listen to a single one of them. If she had to hear her friend’s sympathy over falling for a man she’d known damn well was unattainable, it might be the final blow that would knock her down. As much as she wanted to wallow in a tub of Nutella, she worried that once she laid down, she’d stay there.

Conrad Sterns breezed in through the patio door wearing swim trunks, a towel thrown over his shoulder. “Miss Ballas. Right on time.”

She tried not to cringe when he gave her the once over. Knowing his eyes liked to roam, she’d dressed modestly today on purpose, pairing a light pink tunic dress with ballet flats. Putting on a professional smile, she walked toward him and extended the hand not holding her giant work portfolio. “Mr. Sterns. Good to see you again.”

He gave her a conspiratorial look, as if her innocent greeting had meant something intimate. “Same here. I wondered if Preston would come along to keep an eye on you.”

Her balance pitched at the mention of his name and it took her a moment to catch her breath. Irritation finally found enough room to wiggle in. “I assure you I don’t need anyone to keep an eye on me. Shall we go through the house and see what we’re working with?”

“She’s all business,” Conrad commented to the assistant still hovering behind Eliza, then laughed. “I guess you don’t want me to put a shirt on first.”

“By all means, get dressed,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’ll wait here.”

He leaned back against his black granite dining table and tapped his fingers on either side of his thighs. “I don’t take a meeting with anyone unless I’ve done my research. Your work is more than adequate. There’s no reason for a grand tour.”

Eliza frowned. “Then what am I doing here?”

He flicked a glance at his assistant who promptly left the room. “Our association will be advantageous to me.”

“I still don’t understand.”

There was a long pause before he spoke, but he finally sounded semi-sincere. “Let’s just say that I’m still the new kid in town. Certain social circles are still wary of the guy who earned his money doing things they don’t understand.” He ran the towel over his still-damp hair. “Having Oliver Preston’s girlfriend decorate my house, whatever the f*ck that entails, will give me a name to drop. Maybe more, depending on you.”

Eliza thought talking to Caroline or seeing Oliver would be the knockout blow to take her down, but this was coming dangerously close. “Me?”

“Yes.” He encompassed the room with his arms. “You work on my house and Preston gets me past the front door of the old boy’s club. The one he was born into. It’s a small price to pay for the money I’m going to be paying you.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said, sounding far-off.

Conrad smirked. “Your tongue in his mouth the other night said different.”