Chapter 3 He Found Me
ADALINE
A soft knock on the door pulled my attention away from the TV show.
Dropping the wine glass carefully on the small coffee table, I hurried over to the door, unlatched the lock, but left the security chain, and pushed it open slightly, staring through the narrow space at the man standing outside.
My first reaction when I saw him was shock. I almost staggered back, because how the hell did he locate this place?
“You’re not supposed to know where I live.”
Things like this reminded me that opting to stay away from this brooding man was a very good idea.
“You didn’t exactly make it difficult to find.”
Well, I never thought it was a foolish idea to live right above my office studio. It was convenient, safe, and saved me the stress of commuting every day. Apparently, it also made me ridiculously easy to find.
He lifted the coffee cup in his hand, one from my favorite store, if I might add, and held it out slightly.
“Can I come in, or are we doing this on the doorstep?”
I stared at him for a moment, trying to decide if I should be impressed or alarmed that he knew my address and my favorite coffee order. Probably alarmed. Definitely alarmed.
A man you rejected over an email suddenly showing up at your house, holding your favourite coffee, was more than enough reason to bang the door in his face and call the cops.
Any sane woman would have done exactly that.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I took the chain off completely and opened the door wider, because something in me told me this man wasn’t going to give up until I’d listened to whatever he had to say.
And, if I was being honest with myself, a small part of me was curious enough to hear it.
Walking back into the living room, I made my way over to the dining table, leaning against the standing drawer that contained a few personal defence devices, pepper spray and a taser being among them.
Just in case.
With my arms crossed over my chest, I watched Kane take a seat on one of the decent chairs, the broadness of his body somehow making my living room feel a lot smaller than it actually was.
“What are you doing here?” The earlier we started this conversation, the faster it would end.
“I am not here for another session.”
Obviously. Tracking me down at my house didn’t exactly scream, I want another therapy session. This was him demanding my time, whether or not I was willing to offer it.
“Coffee?” he offered, gesturing towards the cup now sitting next to my wine glass.
“I’m more interested in finding out why you’re in my house.” That coffee could be spiked for all I knew. “Time is of the essence, but then I feel you’re a man who values time more than I do, so please get to the reason you’re here.”
Taking a sip of his coffee, Kane kept his gaze fixed on my face, studying me in that unsettling way of his.
“I want to hire you for two months.”
I blinked.
Didn’t he get the memo in that email?
“Bloom & Co. doesn’t do two months.” I would have laughed in his face at the absurdity of the idea if this entire situation wasn’t growing increasingly uncomfortable. “We do galas, weddings, business dinners, and occasional excruciating family events. Two months is a relationship, and I don’t sell those.”
“I don’t want a relationship.” His bored tone made it clear he wasn’t interested in that. “I want a fiancée, one who will follow me to galas and excruciating family events. You will be compensated at a rate that will make your usual clients look like they’re paying in coupons.”
Okay… now that’s tempting.
I mean, what if he’s not the threat I’m making him out to be? What if he’s only chasing me down because I rejected him over email and he desperately needs a professional for this job, which I clearly am?
“Why?”
His head tilted slightly. “Does it matter?”
“It matters to me because I am stepping into your life for eight weeks, Mr. Kane.”
He chuckled, amused by a joke I clearly didn’t get.
“Family business,” he finally answered. “There are people I need to convince that I’ve settled down. It’s complicated, and it’s not up for discussion beyond that.”
I studied him for a moment, trying to decide if he was lying or simply being annoyingly mysterious.
Okay, this isn’t far-fetched from what I do.
I’ve pretended to be girlfriends for corporate dinners, fake dates for family gatherings, and once attended a three-day destination wedding because a client didn’t want his ex-wife thinking he was still single. Compared to that, pretending to be someone’s fiancée for family functions wasn’t exactly outrageous.
Exhaling deeply, I decided to give this a chance.
The first thing I did was walk back to the coffee table, pick up the coffee he’d offered earlier, and take a cautious sip.
It tasted exactly like my usual order.
Hopefully, I won’t end up on an operating table with my kidney gone.
Although, judging by the price he was willing to pay and the wristwatch on his wrist, I’d like to believe he could afford to buy one legally.
After a few minutes of taking cautious sips of the coffee, nothing changed in my system.
No dizziness. No blurred vision.
“If I wanted to drug you, Ms. Norah, it wouldn’t be through coffee.”
Shit! How did he know I was suspecting him?
“I have terms.”
He gave me a short nod. “I assumed you would.”
Licking my lips, I took a seat on the sofa directly facing him. “No touching beyond what’s necessary for the performance. No questions about my family. And if at any point I want to walk out, I walk out and you won’t chase me.”
Drumming his index finger against his coffee cup, he stared at me unblinkingly, his gaze unnerving in a way I was slowly beginning to realise was natural for him.
Silence stretched between us for a few seconds, long enough for me to wonder which of my conditions he was about to reject.
“If you don’t agree to these terms, then I am not_”
“Agreed.”
I blinked in surprise. That was easier than I expected.
“I am going to need that on paper.”
He chuckled once again, which was beginning to get on my nerves.
“Something funny?”
“You want to draft the papers, or should I?”
“I will.” It makes me feel safer that way. If I was signing my life away for eight weeks, I intended to write every single line of that contract myself.
“So, where am I performing?”
Kane stood to his feet and adjusted his suit jacket.
“New York,” he smirked. “Pack for a party. We leave on Friday.”
