Undersold(44)

“What do you mean, extra careful?”

He sighed and looked away. I could still feel the touch linger like a ghost on my skin. He moved over to the windows and looked out over the city.

“I know we just declared our relationship for the company, but I’m still not ready to give up on my privacy.”

“I understand that.” I took a few steps closer.

He shook his head. “I’m not sure it’s fair. But this is something that I need.”

I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around him. He sighed and dipped his head.

“This is what I want. I don’t care what we have to do. I only care about you,” I whispered into his strong back.

He turned and wrapped his arms around me.

“I don’t deserve someone like you, Amy. Anyone else would have run away by now.”

I couldn’t believe he was saying that. Beautiful, rich billionaire Shane Green doesn’t deserve normal, boring Amy? I breathed his smell and thought about our bodies wrapped together, sweating and moving, our skin fused in points of agonizing pleasure. I couldn’t let him go, no matter what.

“Don’t say that. We both know I’m the plain one. Look, I’m in this. We’ll work out whatever we need to do,” I said.

He kissed my lips. His mouth opened and his tongue ran against mine. He turned, and pushed me up against the glass. The contrast between the cold and smooth behind me and his strong warmth in front was disorienting at first. He kissed me hard, then moved his lips to my ear.

“Don’t ever call yourself plain again, Amy Woodall. You’re far from plain. That’s an order.”

His body pressed against mine, and I felt his need. I wanted to give him whatever he wanted, for as long as he wanted it.





22.


The details of our relationship didn’t change much. We still saw each other most days at work, but I didn’t linger as long as I used to in his office. People whispered, and some even asked questions, but after a week or two another new scandal broke, and the office gossip shifted away. Everyone more or less dropped it, though people still whispered, and Linda still asked way-too-personal questions from time to time.

What changed was how we were able to meet. We always were at his house, and he never sent the car directly to my apartment. In order to keep the paparazzi away from my place, he had the car drop me off and pick me up at different spots within a block or so of my building. He always insisted on being in the car to make sure I was safe. It felt very spy-like, and it was fun at first, but quickly got frustrating. Since the paparazzi never knew where to wait, they had a hard time following me. That worked pretty well, and I never had to deal with the cameras hanging around outside my place. Shane said I was lucky, but I didn’t feel lucky when I had to hoof it three blocks in the cold to catch my ride.

Coming in and out of his house was a different story. Even when we left from the back, there were still cameras everywhere. He had private parking in the alley behind his house, but the paparazzi would sometimes try to look over the fence. For the most part, that system kept us out of the blogs, but we were never able to go anywhere public together. That suited me just fine; we spent our nights in bed, and ate whatever Shane felt like cooking. I wished I could help in the kitchen, but my skills were limited to Ramen Noodles and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He liked the joke that I should write a college student cookbook, and fill it with two-ingredient dishes made from cheap stuff. I may not have been any good in the kitchen, but I worked to make up for it in other places.

The biggest benefit of our relationship going public was being able to talk to Darcy about it. Almost every day I gushed about the details of everything, from Shane’s huge collection of antiques, to his amazing physique, to the small presents he kept buying for me. After a few days I could tell she was bored of it, and I understood why. Our relationship was pretty boring from the outside. We never went anywhere, and we never did anything but spend time together. He had a huge collection of movies, and had built a small home theater in the basement level of his townhouse. We spent hours down there going through all the classics, Citizen Kane to Gone with the Wind. Darcy was an amazing friend to listen to the same stories over and over, and I tried not to talk her ear off too much. I couldn’t help it though; the days flew by, and the nights did too, and all I could think about was Shane.

During this time, I went to see my Dad as much as possible. Time with Shane dominated most days, but at least once a week I used Shane’s driver to take me out to the suburbs. He insisted that I used the driver instead of the train, and it was hard to argue with his stern, perfect face. It didn’t mesh well with my innate sense of self-security, taking an expensive car instead of public transportation, but I always gave in. My dad was doing pretty well, or at least that’s what his caregiver Jasmine said. I was worried for a long time that I wouldn’t be able to afford Jasmine anymore, but after I sold the app and started working for Adstringo, I was able to increase her hours. She took care of Dad full time, and that was a huge relief for everyone. Dad looked thin, and I couldn’t tell if that was because I hadn’t seen him as often as I wanted to, or if he really was losing weight. When I asked Jasmine, she told me that he was as comfortable as he could be, and he was eating like usual. I suspected Jasmine was downplaying his condition, but I didn’t want to argue and potentially upset him. Instead, we sat in front of his television every time I visited. Dad would lay sprawled out in a hospital bed, and we watched whatever sports he felt like watching. I mentioned Shane, but I didn’t go into details.