Chapter 3 - THE COST OF STAYING
Alexander sent for Mrs. Bell.
She arrived in less than five minutes, still wearing the black suit she wore for formal events. Her silver hair was pinned neatly behind her head. She stopped when she saw the folder.
“I warned you tonight would upset him,” she told Eleanor.
Alexander stepped between them. “Did you tell my son Emma was leaving because of his choice?”
Mrs. Bell glanced at Noah.
“I told him Miss Ward had submitted her resignation.”
“You told me to pick someone else,” Noah said.
Mrs. Bell’s expression flickered. “I said the evening would be easier if you gave the ladies a chance.”
“You said Emma would stay if I was good.”
I felt as if someone had knocked the air from my chest.
Mrs. Bell looked at me. “I’m sorry if he misunderstood.”
“He didn’t,” Alexander said.
Noah clung to my hand while Alexander asked a security guard to take Mrs. Bell to her office and keep her there until he finished reviewing the staff files. Eleanor called that excessive. Alexander ignored her.
By midnight, photographs from the ballroom were everywhere online.
One showed Noah wrapped around me beneath the roses. Another caught Alexander looking at us. A caption called me a maid who had “crashed a billionaire’s bride search.”
I went upstairs to Noah’s room and sat on the floor while he held Bunny under his chin.
“I shouldn’t have said you would stay,” I told him.
“You said people stay when they love you.”
“I said people can stay when things get hard.”
“You’re leaving.”
“I was going to.”
“Because of me?”
“No.” My voice broke. “Never because of you.”
He stared at the rabbit.
“Grown-ups say that,” he whispered.
I couldn’t blame him for doubting me.
Alexander appeared in the doorway after Noah fell asleep. He had taken off his jacket and loosened his tie.
“I found the agency invoice,” he said. “My mother paid New Start directly.”
“I need to go,” I told him.
“I know.”
He leaned against the doorframe, exhausted.
“But if you leave tonight, he’ll wake up and think Mrs. Bell was right.”
I looked at Noah’s sleeping face.
Alexander said, “Stay through the weekend. I’ll pay you for the time, whether you work or not. Then we’ll explain your decision to him together.”
“That sounds like you’re asking me to postpone hurting him.”
“I’m asking for two days to learn what happened in my house.”
I wanted to refuse. I also wanted to know who had forged my signature.
“Two days,” I said.
Alexander nodded.
Then his phone buzzed. He read the message, and his face changed.
“What is it?” I asked.
He turned the screen toward me.
The photograph showed my packed suitcase in the servants’ hallway.
May you like
Under it, an unknown sender had written:
Ask Emma why she was in Noah’s room at 2:13 this morning.
