Page 91 of Bought

I turned from the windows and met my friend’s black gaze.

Then I strode from the room without a word.

35

Zara

I met Isabel in a lovely cafe in downtown. After moping on Jay’s couch for a couple of days, I’d finally sent her a very long, confessional text that morning, telling her everything. About how I’d lied to her when I’d worked for Cross and how it had all been for the Hamiltons. About how sorry I was and how I’d understand if she never wanted to see me again.

And oh, yeah, I was in love with her father.

I only got one text back. Let’s talk. Then she named a cafe and a time, and I would have been the world’s biggest coward if I hadn’t gone to meet her. I was broken hearted and just plain broken, and I didn’t want to have to face her. But when all was said and done, she’d been a good friend to me, so I pulled myself together and met her.

Now we sat out on the sidewalk under an umbrella, and she looked so happy it made my heart hurt and yet feel good at the same time. Bittersweet.

We’d talked about my job for the Hamiltons and about me working at Cross, and I’d begged her forgiveness several times. She’d been gracious about the whole thing, shrugging it off as if it didn’t matter. And I had the impression that, for her, it didn’t. Nothing could shake her good mood, because the man she loved, loved her and nothing mattered but that.

That was why my heart hurt. The man I loved didn’t love me, and didn’t want to, and that was an agony I’d never get over.

“So,” Isabel said at last, leaning forward, elbows on the table. “Come on. What’s the lowdown on Dad?”

We hadn’t spoken about it yet and I’d almost been hoping she wouldn’t mention it. Looked like I was destined for disappointment.

I let out a breath, trying to figure out what to say. “Well…uh…. like I said in my text, he….was the one who bought me at the auction in Arcadia.”

“Oh, ugh.” Isabel pulled a face. “I don’t want details, obviously, but what the hell?”

“He was going to let me go — he does that with virgins apparently — but I…um …convinced him otherwise.”

She frowned. “Why?”

Great. I didn’t want to talk about the whys, since that would mean revealing certain things such as Fox’s role in Sir George Wyndham’s death and that wasn’t my secret to tell.

I toyed with my wine glass. “There were reasons. Like you said, you don’t want details.”

“Okay, fair. So, what? You’ve been with him all week?”

“Yeah, and I….” My throat closed and I couldn’t finish.

Isabel’s green gaze was very level. “You’re in love with him, you said.”

I picked up my wineglass and took a long sip of the crisp chardonnay we were drinking. “I’m sorry,” I said after a moment. “I know, it’s weird. But you don’t have to worry. He doesn’t feel the same way.”

She eyed me. “Well, he’s a dick then, isn’t he?”

“Yes Isabel,” Fox’s deep, cool voice came unexpectedly from behind my chair. “I most certainly am.”

Shock spread like an icy wave through me, and I nearly dropped my wine.

Opposite, Isabel’s green eyes had gone very wide. “Dad? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I imagine you can guess,” he said.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to turn and see him. Why he was here, I had no idea, but I didn’t want to know.

It couldn’t be for me. It was never for me.

Isabel looked at me then she glanced back at him. “I’ll leave you to it then.” She shoved back her chair and got to her feet. “But if you’re mean to her again, I swear to God, I’ll throttle you, understand?”