Free Dangerously Big by Cleo Peitsche Page B

him. My heart beats faster because I know he could make it happen. “Please, Hawthorne.”
    His face goes blank. “It doesn’t seem to me that new starts are working for you all that well. How many times have you started over? How many people have you been?”
    I shrug. “I’m always Lindsay.”
    “You’re never Lindsay.” He turns and walks away, and all the fight just drains out of me.  
    After the door closes, I ask, “Why do you even care?”  
    But the silent room doesn’t offer any clues.

Chapter 11

    The next morning I’m early to the office. I have no idea when Hawthorne will be in, but I don’t want him to do something sneaky like swing by when I’m not there and then vanish for a week.
    Luckily, I don’t have long to wait before one of the receptionists buzzes my desk to let me know that he just arrived, and I practically run down to catch him before he can disappear.
    His mouth in a firm line, Hawthorne motions for me to follow him into a small, unused office. He closes the door.
    “You have my key?”
    He retrieves it from his pocket and holds it out.
    When I reach to take it, he raises his hand. “Not so fast,” he says.
    “You can’t hold my car hostage,” I point out. Thirty seconds and he’s already making me crazy.  
    “Romeo and Slade won’t want you to leave,” he says. As he speaks, his eyes stare into mine. The morning light, shining through the window, makes it easy to see the gold flecks in his blue irises.
    “They’ll be fine,” I say.
    “You do good work.” His jaw clenches. “You’re…”
    “Hawthorne Tarraget, are you saying that you don’t want me to leave?” I ask. I’m only teasing him, but then his gaze cuts away, then back. The wounded expression on his face practically drives the breath from my chest.
    “That’s also correct,” he says. He clears his throat. “I don’t want you to go.” It seems like he could say more, but apparently he’s done because he hands me the key.  
    I curl my fingers around it, my ticket to safety. “You don’t want me to leave because I do good work?” I ask.
    “And because my friends are very fond of you.” He smiles. “You’re growing on me, too.”
    “Like a fungus?”
    “We’d have to consult a mycologist.” His smile fades. “I wish you’d let us help you. You don’t have to tell everyone your business, but you should tell someone.”
    “I’ve got Bandit,” I say.
    “Tell someone who can help.”
    “If I thought someone could help me, I would. To be honest…” I trail off as I reconsider what I was about to say.
    “To be honest?” he prods.
    I purse my lips, then exhale, puffing out my cheeks. “I thought I would be safe here. But it’s not safe anymore.” How can I possibly explain who and what my grandfather really is?  
    “So rather than allow someone to help you, you’re going to take off.”
    “As I said last night.”  
    “Would you consider talking to Romeo before you go? He’s trustworthy, and in any event, he deserves to know what’s happening. He’s had a rough year, Lindsay. Don’t just disappear on him. Slade is resilient, and I’m an asshole—”
    “Jesus. Can I get that in writing?”
    “If you stay, I’ll have it inscribed on a plaque that you can hang in your living room.” His eyes penetrate mine. “Consider talking to Romeo.”
    My stomach twists, and I nod. “I will.”
    “That wasn’t convincing. You used to be a better liar.” Hawthorne extends his hand. “It’s been nice knowing you, Lindsay. I hope you find both what you want and what you need.”
    The handshake is weirdly formal considering how many ways this man has fucked me, but Hawthorne and I aren’t the type to hug our goodbyes.  
    It’s a shame, because I could really use a hug right now.
    He turns to leave, but I lightly touch his sleeve. “Wait. I have a question for you. If you weren’t planning to blackmail me, why did you lie to Romeo and Slade?”
    “Several reasons. For