Ace eyed her because her voice was different; she sounded like she was on edge, as he took the paper bag from her. Inside it, he found a sandwich; the very same one he had taken from her days ago. A slow smile spread across his face, unfurling his contracted eyebrows.
“Ambrose,” he mused, “Are you worried about my stomach?”
Scarlett swallowed; her mind was still on the dread that had filled her a few minutes ago. “You hadn’t eaten.”
Ace lowered the bag and looked at Scarlett, who refused to meet his eye. He stood. “Are you alright, Ambrose?”
The usually bright girl looked like she had had a lot of colour drained from her face.
Scarlett nodded, but it didn’t convince Ace. “Great,” she said, “Eat.”
“Ambrose.”
Scarlett turned to leave. “I hope you like it.”
“Ambrose!”
Scarlett stopped abruptly, her shoulders tensed and her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable when she turned to Ace.
He had never seen the kind of fear in her eyes before then; not even when he had caught her in his office. He hadn’t the heart to demand anything from her. Instead, he said, softly, “Thank you for the lunch.”
Scarlett nodded and hurried out, and retreated into her office. She dropped her belongings on to the floor, kicked off her heels and began pacing up and down inside her office, trying to calm her breathing. She could feel a lump rise in her throat and tears prick the back of her eyes.
She couldn’t get herself to sit or even think of working. There was nothing she wanted to do other than pace up and down her office, telling herself that she was going to be alright.
Businessmen always seemed to have the worst effect on her; ever since…
Scarlett watched as her door opened very slowly and Ace stepped in. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, watching her.
He noted the discarded book and handbag and the stilettos that Scarlett seemed to live in just cast-off to a side. He knew something was wrong.
He went towards her very slowly as she stood behind her desk.
Gently, he asked, “Are you scared of me, Ambrose?”
Scarlett bit down on her lip as she gazed back at him. She didn’t answer; she didn’t have an answer.
Ace realized he was getting no response. “Did I do something? Did I say something?”
Scarlett shook her head, slowly, as Ace walked slowly towards her.
He looked at her, wanting to ask why she seemed so scared, but the fearful look in her eyes made him unable to push for anything.
When she softly asked, “Can I go home?”, he had no choice, but to allow it.
“Go,” he replied, just as softly, “I’ll be home soon.”
Scarlett looked at him for a moment longer before she scurried away, haphazardly picking up her belongings. She held it together as she endured the forty-floor elevator ride, the twenty-minute drive and the twenty-floor elevator ride to Ace’s penthouse. She walked into the house, shut the door behind her and slowly, slid to the floor, letting her shoes and bag fall from her hands, as the tears began to fall.
Scarlett buried her face in her hands and sobbed, her body shaking, until she felt like there were no more tears to cry. She stood, picking up her bag and taking out her phone.
She dialed the first number on her speed dial and Mrs. Grace Vanderpool answered immediately.
“Sky,” she said, softly.
Scarlett’s eyes squeezed shut as tears threatened to fall again. “Gracie,” she said in a shaky voice.
Grace had heard this tone before. “Tell me, my darling,” she said, in a motherly tone.
“I can’t. I can’t. I keep reliving it,” Scarlett sobbed, “I hate businessmen. I hate them.”
Grace listened.
“They’re the worst. The moment I think I’ve left the last one behind, the next one turns out to be even worse. Why do I keep doing this to myself, Gracie?”
“Because you’re the bravest, strongest girl I know, Sky. There’s nothing that can stop you. Did you see him?” Grace asked.
Scarlett shook her head. “I didn’t see anyone, but there’s this man, Brad. Ace tries to keep him away from me, but he ambushed me today. And now I can’t stop thinking of …”
“Say his name, my darling. A name cannot hurt you. You must not give the power to make to feel fear from a name. He is a worthless scoundrel. Say his name,” Grace urged.
“So many weeks ago,” Scarlett said, “When Dan first took me to the Chateau, I thought I saw him. I thought I saw him, I thought I saw Kai. Maybe it was my imagination, but it scared me. He still haunts me.”
“Kai Wickham is nothing but a bastard, who loves to assert his false dominance over people,” Grace spoke about the man with disdain, “He’s not a man. He hides behind false bravado. He put you through hell, my darling, and one day he will pay for that. But now, you must not fear him, for you are ten times the person he is. Look at you, my darling. How far you’ve come from that scared little girl I met on the waterfront.”
Hearing Grace’s voice and her encouragement always helped to calm Scarlett and clear her head.
“Not every man is Kai Wickham, Sky. And you are older, wiser and stronger now; no man can make you feel the way Kai Wickham did.”
Scarlett gave a mirthless chuckle. “And yet, whenever I’m around Brad, or even Terrence sometimes, I feel like that scared twenty-two-year old.”
“That inner scared twenty-two-year-old is the one who makes sure it never happens again, my darling.”
There was a silence as Scarlett thought of what she had been told.
“Tell me something, Sky. Does this man, Ace, not scare you?”
Scarlett thought.
Ace Hardwood had his scary moments, but he never made the hair on her neck stand; he didn’t make her cower when he touched her; her didn’t make her feel uneasy by simply being in the same room as her; when he smiled, it didn’t make her think that he was about to do something to her; looking at him and his unreadable expressions didn’t make Scarlett think that harm would come to her.
Ace didn’t seem to put her in harm’s way all the time; instead, he seemed to try and make sure she wasn’t in danger.
When Ace asked her questions, she didn’t feel like he was doing it for the sole purpose of finding out her weaknesses.
Ace conversed almost like he was normal; a pompous, egotistical prick, but normal.
“By your silence, I will assume that the billionaire does not scare you,” Grace chuckled, softly, “Be careful, my darling. The men who don’t scare you are the ones you must fear the most; they may do something far more powerful.”
Scarlett sighed and realized that she was seated on the winding staircase. She stood. “I know what you mean, Gracie,” she said, slowly, venturing upstairs, “I think I’m going to take a nice bubble bath and read for a while.”
“Alright, my darling. Call me anytime.”
“I love you, Gracie.”
Scarlett headed up to her room and did take a nice, long bubble bath to soak away the worries of the day and wandered over to the window seat on the landing and opened her book.
When Ace arrived home that evening and finally wandered upstairs, he found Scarlett sitting on the window seat, wearing a pair of cropped pants and sleeveless blouse, and a bandana tied around her head, watching the world outside. He wondered if she had realized that it was dark outside.
“Ambrose.”
She turned.
Ace motioned for her to follow him.
Scarlett left her book and followed him downstairs.
As she descended the staircase, the sound of soft jazz touched her ears, immediately intriguing her. She followed him into the TV room. The lights weren’t as bright as they usually were and on the coffee table, Ace had laid out some plates, along with pizza and some garlic bread.
“What’s this?” she asked, almost cracking a smile.
Ace smiled seeing her smile. “Well, you bought me lunch, so I assumed it was only fair that I buy you dinner.”
Scarlett smiled at her boss and went over to the coffee table. She sat on the floor and Ace followed suit, after removing his jacket, tie, waistcoat and shoes. He opened the pizza box and held it out to her.
She took a slice. “So, did the office fall apart without me?”
Ace took a slice himself. “You know, Ambrose, we went on just the way we did before you worked there.”
She laughed, her mouth full of pizza.
They lapsed into silence as they continued to eat, seated side by side on the floor.
“I met Brad,” Scarlett said, breaking the silence. Ace looked over at her. “He sort of ambushed me when I was coming from lunch. It freaked me out.”
Ace’s expression darkened, watching Scarlett. “What did he do to you?”
“Nothing,” Scarlett shook her head, “He was just being Brad. He said somethings, I don’t even remember. He’s the worst; he really gets under my skin. Why does he bother you so much?”
Ace sighed. “He’s underhanded in everything he does; business, sports, relationships.”
“He’s a cheater?”
Ace nodded.
“I hate cheaters.”
“Why is that, Ambrose? I’m not saying cheaters should be excused, but what is the vendetta you have against them?” Ace was intrigued.
Scarlett sighed. “When I was sixteen, I had this boyfriend: Jack Richards. He was my first boyfriend and I’d grown up in foster care, without much sense of being wanted and Jack, well, he gave me that. Albeit, for about seven months.”
“I doted on him because he gave me the attention I craved; I used to put up with him and his constant desire to sleep, and him never doing anything remotely nice for me than sweet-talking me. He used to say the most wonderful things, sometimes. He used to call me sweet names and tell me wonderful things, but a lot of the time that was it. I excused it, telling myself that we were young and if he could do for me, he would. If I ever told him I was upset about something, he would tell me that I’m trying to ruin a perfectly good thing or that I’m being annoying because I keep bringing up “things from the past” even though it happened literally three hours ago.”