The workday was over. It was Friday. My resignation email was sent. The earliest I’d hear back was Monday. I started clearing my desk, slowly erasing any trace of myself.
I didn’t expect the call from Chris on Sunday night. The background noise suggested he’d just gotten off a plane.
“Clara, your resignation letter. What are the ‘personal reasons‘?”
“Mr. Blackwood, I’m twenty–nine. It’s time for me to settle down.”
He was silent for a few seconds. This isn’t because you’re afraid I’ll try to set you up with my brother again, is it? Don’t overthink it.”
“No.” I said. “I met someone suitable through a dating app. I was planning to leave around this time anyway.”
“What’s his background?”
“No background to speak of. He’s an associate professor at a university.”
“I see. Alright. V
Work hard for the next thirty days, and I’ll give you a nice bonus. Consider it a wedding gift.”
“Thank you, Mr. Blackwood.”
“One more thing,” he said. “Pick out a few gifts for a little girl. You’re coming back to New York with me next Friday.”
A little girl.
I felt a pang in my chest
Of course, Mr. Blackwood,”
It was my first time inside the Blackwood family estate.
with 1-
The main hall was filled with laughter and conversation. Servants moved deftly, refilling tea and offering snacks. I followed behind Chris, carrying the gift boxes.
Every eye in the room swiveled past Chris and landed on me.
Chris’s fiancée, Tiffany, shot daggers at me. “And who is this?” she asked, her smile not reaching her eyes.
Chris squeezed in next to his grandmother on the sofa. “Just my secretary,” he said nonchalantly. “I had her pick out some gifts for Chloe. She’s just here to drop them off.”
The tension in the room eased slightly. I nodded politely to everyone and handed the gift boxes to a maid. “Well, Mr. Blackwood, I’ll be on my way.”
He waved a dismissive hand.
20 00
Chanter 1
I was about to turn and leave when my
my eyes met a little girl’s on the staircase. She looked about five or six, dressed in a little burg- undy plaid cape dress, hopping down the circular staircase.
e garters, the cuffs
The man behind her watched her with lowered eyes. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, just a crisp shirt with sleeve
rolled up to reveal strong, lean forearms. He gently held the collar of her dress with two fingers, steadying her.
My heart gave a sudden, painful jolt.
The girl stared at me, then suddenly bounded down the rest of the stairs and ran toward the living room.
On the sofa, the old matriarch opened her arms with a wide smile. “My sweet Chloe, come to Grandma.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her.
Chloe Blackwood.
That was Chloe.
