His To Love Part 15

Her hands paused on the keyboard and hovered. "I meant what I said earlier. I might be giving you this opportunity because of your father, but you'll have to earn your spot."

I got it. I actually liked that. "Understood."

Her red lips stretched into a small smile. "I also want you to know that based on what you've shown me today, I have no doubt you'll do just that."

"Thank you," I said, my voice a bit breathy. Stress that I hadn't realized I was carrying melted from shoulders.

"Don't thank me. Just continue to work hard. We'll see you tomorrow."

Without another glance, her fingers began moving and her eyes refocused on her computer screen. Earlier, I had learned that she usually worked long into the night and was often at the office hours before anyone else. The woman was a workhorse.

With a slight pep to my step, I left the office and boarded the elevator. As soon as I started my car, I grabbed my phone from my purse and checked the screen while I let the car cool down from the humid heat it had sat in all day.

Three missed calls. One from my father. Two from Malik.

One text from Tyson: Blackbird: Fireside at 7?

I typed out a response letting him know I'd meet him there and then put the phone in my cup holder. My father and Malik could wait a while.

I had a new home to go find.

- The apartment was perfect. I spun in a slow circle, taking in the beautiful architecture of the old-style building. Peace flooded my veins. How was it possible that in a matter of hours, everything I had wanted seemed to be falling into place?

This place felt like home.

There wasn't a single thing about this apartment, the first I'd seen, that didn't meet every qualification I had for a home. Secure entrance with a doorman-while I wanted my freedom, I knew my family had enemies. Security was important.

The complex had been recently built but the architecture kept the feel of historic Latham Hills. Doorways were curved, the woodwork a deep, rich oak that could have come straight from the 1920s, but the kitchen was outfitted with the most top-of-the-line appliances, new cupboards, and a modern worktop. Everything about the place screamed elegance.

I absolutely loved it.

"I'll take it." Finishing my slow spin, I looked at the apartment manager.

Nancy Maskin had been nothing but helpful and kind. "Excellent." She opened a file folder filled with information along with a leasing contract. "We can take care of this now, if you're not in a hurry."

"I'm not." I was. It was getting close to seven and I was anxious to share all of my good fortune from the day with Tyson over a burger. This time, I was getting the one loaded with bacon. But I also wanted to get this taken care of. There were only two, two-bedroom apartments currently available and I didn't want to lose one.

I met Nancy at the kitchen island and pulled out my checkbook, ready to give her a deposit and first month's rent after she rambled off her necessary spiel. It was only a few moments before I handed her my check, emptying the rest of my savings, and signed on several dotted lines.

I did it.

I just rented my first home. It was in a convenient location, close to the quaint downtown of Latham Hills as well as the freeway that would take me to downtown Detroit. With my father's house on the south side of Detroit and my new, albeit temporary, office and Latham Hills on the northern edge, I was extending my commute to the house, but this place was worth it.

"Thank you," I told Nancy as we shook hands at the front door.

My phone buzzed in my purse like it had done several times while I was touring the apartment but until then, I'd ignored it.

"I'll call you as soon as your approval goes through," Nancy said. She locked the door behind us as we exited. "It should only be a day or two, but I don't see anything stopping this."

"That'd be kind of you."

I reached for my phone in my purse and pulled it out as we stepped into the elevator. It buzzed in my hand again, and I frowned when I saw my father's name lighting up the screen.

A weight fell in my stomach.

He never called me this incessantly.

"Excuse me," I muttered to Nancy and unlocked my phone. "I have to take this call. Is there anything else we need?"

"Not at all. I'll send your information in as soon as I get back to the office."

"Thank you." I tried to smile but it felt forced.

As soon as I stepped into the lobby of the apartment complex's main building, I sat down on a red leather couch and hit the redial b.u.t.ton. My father answered halfway through the first ring.

"Where are you?" he snapped.

"I'm in Latham Hills looking at apartments. What's going on?"

"You need to come home."

My breath stalled in my chest for a moment, but I fought through my fear. "Is it Mom?"

"Just get home. Immediately."

The click of him hanging up echoed in my ear and I closed my eyes. My shoulders heaved. I just ate dinner there last night. I spent most of the day before over at the house helping Clarissa bake more pies. My mother slept most of the day but was awake and alert for small intervals. How could she already be doing so poorly that I needed to hurry home?

With what felt like sludge weighing down my legs, I pushed off the couch and managed a weak wave to the doorman, Billie. He looked ancient-late sixties, at best, and his hair was completely gray. He sported what had to be the world's worst comb-over, but he seemed friendly.

I reached my car, parked in a visitor's spot directly outside the leasing center's Clubhouse. The complex also housed a small workout room which I would most likely rarely see, but I also knew it had a pool and hot tub, which I was looking forward to using often once summer hit.

Once I started the car, I remembered my dinner plans with Tyson. The easiest thing would be to send him a text, but I wanted to hear his voice. Thankfully, once I dialed his number he answered almost as quickly as my father had.

"Blue?"

I sighed and my eyes closed. I really liked his voice and the way he said my name. "Hey. Listen, I'm going to have to cancel on dinner."

"Okay...I thought you had news for me."

"I do." I fidgeted and ran my hands through my hair before I began tapping on the steering wheel. "Unfortunately my father just called and I need to see him."

"I see." His tone was clipped.

My lips pulled to one side. "I'm sorry. Raincheck for tomorrow?"

"How about drinks when you're done at home?"

"I don't know how long that will be."

"I'll wait up. Just come to my place."

Driving all the way to my parents' house, then back to Latham Hills meant I had to pa.s.s my hotel twice. It wasn't the longest trip, but I had no idea how long it would take with my father. Already, I felt the adrenaline I'd most likely been running on all day begin to dissipate. I was going to be exhausted later. Too tired for a drink.

I also realized I didn't care.

My hand twisted around the steering wheel, and I smiled softly. "Okay, Tyson. I'll see you later."

I agreed to call him as soon as I was on my way, and then I hung up the phone, pulled out of the parking lot, and headed straight home.

The entire time, I was praying that my mother hadn't taken a drastic turn for the worse.

- My heart pumped wildly against my chest as I climbed out of the car in my parents' driveway. Gathering up my courage, imagining the worst-case scenario, I hurried up the stairs and pushed open the front door. The clamor of pots and pans in the kitchen echoed down the hallway toward me, and Claude was nowhere in sight.

I should have run to my mother. Seen how she was. My fear instead moved me toward the kitchen, where I knew I would first see Clarissa. My heels clicked along the tiled floor until I stopped in the doorway of the kitchen. Everything appeared as it should. Clarissa stood in the kitchen facing the stove and stirring a sauce that had steam wafting from the top. It smelled delicious-like marinara seasoned with her special spices.

"How is she?" I asked, stepping into Clarissa's domain. It was also the one room in the house where I knew I was always welcome.

Clarissa's head jerked back at the shock at my voice. "How is who?"

"Mother. Father called me several times this afternoon and said I had to get home." I stopped and ran a hand through my hair. I tried to catch my breath but it was useless. I was terrified. "I came as quickly as I could."

A line appeared between her brows. "She's fine, bella. She's been resting all day like usual, and nothing bad has happened."

A sigh of relief escaped me and I leaned forward, bracing myself on the edge of the counter. Tears formed in my eyes as I accepted the news. She wasn't dying. Not today, anyway. I should have been grateful. I was only more confused.

Lifting my gaze only to see concern shining in Clarissa's eyes, I asked, "Where's my father?"

"He's in his study."

"Ugh." I stood up and fixed my hair and then took the time to make sure my clothes weren't horribly wrinkled. The last thing I needed was an argument with my father over my appearance. If he didn't call me home in such a hurry to see my mom, I had no idea what he wanted. "I'll be back soon."

"Gabriella?"

"Yes?" I turned and looked at Clarissa over my shoulder.

"He's not alone."

I frowned when she began wiggling her eyebrows.

My shoulders drooped.

"Malik is with him?" I asked on a defeated sigh. This wasn't good. Both men had called me earlier and my father's insistence had to mean a horrible thing.

"Have fun."

I snorted, earning me an unladylike look from Clarissa, and hoofed it to my father's office.

I should have ignored his call and just gone to dinner with Tyson. But now I was thinking I couldn't wait for a drink at his place later. I figured that after this conversation, I was going to need one.

Or six.

Chapter 13.

To my surprise, the door to my father's office was wide open. I didn't bother knocking on the doorframe to make my presence known. His head snapped up as soon as he saw me. He was sitting behind his desk, a gla.s.s of whiskey held gingerly in his hand. His lips pressed into a straight line barely masking his annoyance that it had taken me so long to get here.

I couldn't help Detroit traffic.

"Come in."

I obeyed and stepped into his office and immediately saw Malik in a chair to the side of my father's desk where he couldn't be seen from the doorway. He turned to face me and then pushed to his feet, setting his own gla.s.s down on the desk. I fought the urge to crinkle my nose. I despised whiskey.

"Good evening, Gabriella," Malik said, stepping forward and doing that proprietary thing he did that I was beginning to also despise. With one of his hands low on my hip, he leaned forward and brushed his lips across my cheek.

"Evening," I muttered, glancing down to my feet.

When Malik had dropped his hand from my hip and stepped away, I slowly brought my gaze up to meet my father's. Irritation bubbled beneath my skin. This was the man who had allowed me to believe that something was wrong with Mom, all under the guise of getting me to the house. The man had no shame when it came to getting what he wanted.

A lumped formed in my throat at the thought. I knew what he wanted. Malik's presence made that clear.

"Before you get started with why I've been summoned," I started, unable to hide the anger from my voice, "I thought you should know that I took your advice and spoke with Ms. Pillar. I began my position with DPA this morning. And I've placed a deposit on a new home, apartment, really." My father's lips thinned further. His frustration with me rippled through the room.

I almost wanted to smile. Maybe curtsy.

"Is that all?" he asked, his lips twisting into a sneer.

No. But it was enough.

At the small nod of my head, he relaxed slightly. "Very well, then." He continued. "Malik will escort you to the benefit next Sat.u.r.day."

I gritted my teeth. I should have known I would be railroaded into this after I dismissed Malik's invitation. Malik was just as cunning as my father. I might have underestimated his interest in me.

Before I could think of the appropriate words to say, to tell him that I had already asked Tyson to accompany me, Malik stepped forward and took my hand. "It will be pleasure to have you on my arm."

I bet. I barely spared Malik a glance before looking back to my father. He looked rather pleased with himself as he sipped his whiskey. I knew better. His current relaxed state only hid the cogs working in his mind, trying to find a way to trap me.

"I would like to speak with Malik for a few minutes. In private," I said, stressing the words at the end.

"Whatever you have to say-"

For the first time in my life that I could remember, I interrupted him. "Will be said in private. Either here or later."

Both men tensed.