A Hand to Hold

Chapter nine

~ Natalie

*

“Well… what now?” I asked my fiancé. Wow, my fiancé. My drop-dead gorgeous boss had somehow become my future husband. Was I crazy for agreeing to his proposal? I knew danger lurked around every corner, but was accepting Ronan’s offer really the safest option?

*

I’d been in a trance for the past few hours, ever since meeting Alexi face-to-face. The moment I saw my disheveled apartment, all I could think about was getting as far from Chicago as possible. But when Ronan made his case for marriage, my instincts screamed at me to accept. Now, all I could do was make the most out of the situation and hope for the best. So, if this marriage blew up in my face, I only had my own instincts to blame. Well, my instincts and Ronan’s damn salesmanship.

*

I knew exactly what Ronan was doing as he made the case for marriage. He was in sell mode. I’d witnessed Ronan’s skills too many times not to recognize his tactics. That didn’t necessarily mean it wasn’t a good idea. In over a year as his assistant, I’d never seen him pursue a deal that wasn’t beneficial to both parties. My trust in him remained the only thing I didn’t question. However, while trust was comforting, it also meant I’d have to be careful with my heart moving forward. I could love him if I let myself, but the possibility of him reciprocating that love was uncertain at best.

*

“Now, it’s time you got some rest,” Ronan answered, pulling me out of my reverie. “We can iron out the details tomorrow. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“What a coincidence, because I feel like I’m about to fall over,” I admitted. With my hands still securely in his, he stood and pulled me to my feet, saying, “Come with me.”

*

Ronan led me out of his office, through mine, and into the main lobby. We entered the building’s main elevator, and he pressed a button. “What’s on the sixteenth floor?” I asked curiously.

“You’ll see.” I remained silent as we rode the elevator down. It didn’t escape my notice that he never let go of my hand, and I didn’t object but gladly absorbed the warmth radiating through him.

*

When we reached the sixteenth floor, he automatically turned right, and we followed the long corridor all the way to the far end. I realized the doors we passed didn’t look like typical office doors but rather apartment doors. “Do people live on this floor?” He nodded and replied, “This one and the one below I had converted into apartments as a job perk for employees.”

“How did I not know this?”

“You don’t know about every project I take on.”

“Clearly.”

*

Outside the apartment at the end of the hall, Ronan turned to me and said, “This door opens with my thumbprint or a code.” I noticed the absence of a typical lock and found the scanner/keypad beside the door as he continued, “I’ve never set the code, as I am the only one who’s ever used this place. What four-digit code do you want me to set for the lock?”

“I suppose today’s date is as good a number as any.” I watched him set the code to 1130, and when the lock disengaged, he opened the door for me to enter first.

*

“Whoa,” I expressed at the sight of the impressive high-end apartment. Thanks to the open floor plan I could see straight past the kitchen where we entered, through the living room windows, showcasing a captivating view of downtown Chicago. The scent of new building materials wafted throughout the apartment, and the pristine white marble kitchen appeared entirely unused.

*

As I made my way to the living room, Ronan flipped a switch, turning on all the lights and the electric fireplace near the massive sectional sofa. “If you walk through that hallway,” Ronan pointed out, “you’ll find the bedroom. All the sheets on the bed are clean, and there’s fresh towels in the bathroom cabinet if you’d like a shower. I’ll bring your bag up before I go home.”

“Thank you, Ronan.” The sultry smile he revealed upon hearing me utter his first name made my stomach flip. We shared a brief moment of understanding. We were venturing into new territory. We may never be star-crossed lovers, but deep down, I didn’t feel like I was compromising my standards. I could be happy with a respected friend. And that friend being insanely attractive didn’t hurt anything either.

*

“Oh, um,” Ronan said, regaining focus. “Unfortunately, the kitchen isn’t well-stocked at the moment. But if you tell me what you want for breakfast, I’ll bring it to you in the morning.”

“Is there bread in that bread box?” I asked, pointing to the container next to the toaster.

“Whole wheat, yes. It’s one of the few things in this place.” I ventured to the sleek, stainless-steel refrigerator and peeked inside.

*

“I’m good,” I declared once I saw the butter.

“Are you sure?” he questioned. “I’ll bring you whatever you want.”

“What I want is toast, and you already have what I need.”

“Toast? Really? At least let me bring you some eggs and syrup so you can make French toast.”

“No, thanks. The plain ol’ buttery kind is just fine.”

“Jam?”

“Nope.”

“Alright. But I’ll be bringing your disgusting nutty coffee first thing in the morning, so if you change your mind about breakfast, let me know.”

“It’s a hazelnut latte, and I think you meant delicious.” He leaned toward me, daring to venture closer than he ever had in the past, as he replied in a deep bedroom voice, “One thing you should know about me by now, lass… I always mean what I say.”

*

To conceal the effect Ronan’s dreamy, yet subtle, Irish accent had on me, I quickly rolled my eyes at his comment, and he sent me another handsome smile. What had I gotten myself into? He could unravel me with nothing but a look. His smiles were like Cupid’s arrows, each one different but equally powerful. I needed some armor if I hoped to avoid ending up broken-hearted.

*

“Do me a favor,” Ronan said, breaking the spell over me, “as my future bride, try to get some rest.”

“I’ll try,” I replied. “No promises, though. It’s been a rough day, to say the least.” For a moment, it seemed he considered offering me a hug… but decided against it. “There’s melatonin in the bathroom cabinet if you need help falling asleep. Oh, and please don’t leave the apartment. Until we know more about what Alexi wants with you, it’s best you stay put. Just text me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

*

I walked him back to the entrance. He stopped at the door, turned, and said, “Before I leave, I need to ask… are you sure?”

“About marrying you?” When he nodded, I continued, “I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t.”

“Good. Sleep well. We have an important day tomorrow.”

“We do?”

“Yes. We’re getting married.”

~~*~~

While soaking in the deep bathtub of Ronan’s luxurious apartment, I thought about the last thing he told me. I was still processing his intentions to get married the very next day. I had no objections but was thrown by his urgency. He’d explained that he knew a good deal when he found one and didn’t see any point in delaying. Typical Ronan, when he made a decision, he charged ahead. I admired this about him, though it didn’t help me figure out how I would tell Trina, or Aunt Mel for that matter.

*

When the water began to cool, I pulled the plug and wrapped myself in a fluffy grey towel. I never knew towels so soft existed. I could definitely appreciate this lifestyle. Ronan’s wealth in no way factored into my acceptance of his proposal, apart from the fact more money meant more security. But if marrying a billionaire meant more fluffy towels, then I’d consider that a welcome silver lining to my situation.

*

Once dry, I donned a cotton robe and suddenly realized I had no clothes but the ones I’d taken off. Resolving to sleep in the robe, I made my way into the kitchen for a glass of water. By the front door, I spotted the bag I’d left in Ronan’s car. So, he’d remembered after all. I still planned to sleep in the robe, though. Unless… hmm, I wondered.

*

I returned to the bedroom and opened a few dresser drawers. Bingo. Men’s pajamas. I made myself comfortable in one of his sleep shirts, which was so oversized on me it fit like a nightgown. I placed my glass of water on the nightstand, retrieved my phone, and climbed into the king bed, relishing the comfort of quality bedding.

*

Phone in hand, I debated who to contact first. I surrendered to my cowardly side by choosing to delay the conversation with Aunt Mel til morning. I wasn’t ready to explain myself to her. I opened the message app and began composing a text to Trina.

TEXT

Me: So… I’m getting married tomorrow.

Bestie: Ha! Good one! ;)

Me: I’m serious.

Bestie: Have you been drinking???

Me: No

Bestie: You’re really getting married?

Me: I am

Bestie: Who the hell to?!?!

Me: Ronan

Bestie: Ronan your BOSS Ronan?!

Me: yup

*

A three-dot bubble appeared, indicating Trina was typing something. It disappeared, reappeared… and disappeared again. The box stayed blank for a full two minutes when suddenly her picture appeared on my screen, announcing her incoming FaceTime. Oh Lord, here we go, I thought.

*

I answered with a cheery, “Hey, Trin.”

“Don’t ‘Hey, Trin’ me, you ungrateful wench!” she responded in irritation. “How long have you been seeing your hunky boss and not telling me?!”

“It’s not like that, Katrina. Let me explain.”

“Why do you think I’m calling? You damn well better explain!”

*

I shared with my best friend the events of my day. When I finished, she was speechless. Katrina Anderson was NEVER rendered speechless. I tried to gauge her expression on the tiny phone screen. However, she looked away, staring offscreen, deep in thought. She took several moments before finding her voice again, like I knew she would.

*

Trina met my eyes again, saying, “I’m going online the minute we hang up and getting the first available flight to Chicago.”

“No, you are not,” I responded.

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Nat! I’m coming. And if you ever want to call me your best friend again, you won’t argue with me.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll text you the flight details once I have them. If possible, have that fiancé of yours send a car to pick me up.”

“Consider if done.”

With a heavy sigh Trina’s voice dropped low as she said, “I love you, Natalie.”

“I know. You too. See you soon.”

“Damn right,” with that, she hung up.

*

My mind was reeling after my conversation with Trina. If this was how she reacted, what could I expect from Aunt Mel? Unable to quiet my thoughts long enough to fall asleep, I went into the bathroom to find the melatonin. Half an hour later, I was sound asleep, blissfully unaware of drastic changes the next day would bring.

~~*~~

~ Ronan

*

After I left Natalie’s bag in the entryway of the apartment, I retreated to the top floor. Upon entering my office, I pulled out my cell and sent a brief text message.

TEXT

Me: I need you here ASAP

CC: You have that expensive Irish whiskey?

Me: what do you think?

CC: c u in ten

*

I chucked my phone onto the couch and approached the drink cart, where I proceeded to pour two drinks— one over ice and one neat.

*

At my desk, I reached for the phone and pressed a saved number. “Desmond, it’s Ronan,” I said. “I have a matter of top priority that requires your attention.” My private investigator knew whenever I said top priority, it implied double pay. “I need all the information you can find on Anatoli Alexeyev.” I wouldn’t wait around for the man to come after Natalie. A large part of my business success came from knowing exactly with whom I was dealing.

*

“Yes, as soon as possible,” I told Desmond. “And one more thing; see what information you can dig up about the origins of Natasha Novikov, born in Denver, Colorado. I specifically need whatever you can find on her parents.” If I planned to successfully protect my new fiancé, I needed to know the source of Alexi’s motivations, and it all began with her parents. She wouldn’t be too pleased with me digging into her past without her knowledge, but it had to be done. “Oh, and Des? Be careful. Alexi is not the kind of man to appreciate being investigated. Talk soon.”

*

I hung up the phone the exact moment my door opened. “You got here quick,” I said.

“I don’t mess around when you’re the one supplying the whiskey,” Callum replied as I handed him the whiskey over ice and sat across from him.

*

Callum Conway had pitch-black, shaggy hair, caramel eyes, and olive skin. On the surface, he came off as shallow and self-serving. But in reality, he was one of the most loyal friends a person could hope to have.

*

“Far be it from me to look a gift horse in the mouth,” Callum began, “but could the reason we’re drinking have anything to do with the owner of those shoes?” He pointed out Natalie’s forgotten footwear under the coffee table. She must’ve been in a rougher mental state than I previously thought, if she’d walked through the building barefoot without noticing. In response, I simply nodded as he reminded me, “You never bring women into your home or office.”

*

I swallowed a bracing gulp of Irish whiskey, welcoming the burn that came with it.

“What’s up, Ronan?” Callum asked in concern. “Women trouble or business?”

“I suppose you could say it’s a bit of both.”

“Color me intrigued.”

“I’m getting married,” I said flatly.

“I already knew that, but seeing as you’ve dragged me here because you needed a drinking buddy, does that mean you’ve finally chosen the female?”

“My PA.”

“You’re PA?!” he spat. I merely nodded.

*

“F*ck, Ro! Are you insane?” Callum asked in alarm. “The public is going to string you up by your balls; you do know that, right?” I finished off my drink and replied, “The public is the least of my worries. She’s been targeted by Anatoli Alexeyev.”

“The Russian?” I nodded sharply and clarified, “Which is why I need to marry her tomorrow.”

“f*****g hell, Ronan,” he muttered in shock. “Why in hell’s name would you choose a female with so much baggage?”

“It’s simple, really; I need a wife, and she needs protection. We each have something to gain from the arrangement as well as something to lose if it fails. In short, we are equally motivated. What’s more, she isn’t motivated by money, and I challenge you to find another woman half-appealing as her who isn’t.”

*

Callum tapped the glass with his index finger, absorbing my situation. “Ok, you’ve made your point,” he finally said, “but hear mine.” He downed the remaining alcohol in his glass and placed it on the coffee table before continuing, “You have a hell of a lot to lose if the Russian decides to get to her through you. Do you even know why she’s on his radar?”

*

I moved to the drink cart and refilled our glasses as I answered, “I have Desmond looking into it.” Back in the sitting area, I went on, “The reason has something to do with her parents. Alexi should back off once he learns she’s my wife. If not, I’ll ensure he gets the message that she’s under my protection.”

“Don’t you think it’s worth waiting to hear from Desmond before tying the knot?”

“I don’t have that kind of time, Cal.”

“Is there something I’m missing? There’s still nearly two years before your clock runs out.”

“I can’t leave anything to chance. According to the will, having a pregnant wife is not enough. My child has to be born by the deadline.”

“Damn, your dad sure was thorough,” he replied sympathetically.

“Tell me about it.” I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. “I don’t know whether to be pissed off or impressed.”

“I still say you have plenty of time. Especially if you guys start screwing tomorrow.” It was a good thing the man was loyal because he certainly wasn’t tactful.

*

I ran my hands through my hair as I said, “Natalie’s not like the usual women I engage with. She isn’t the type to have s*x with someone she doesn’t know well and trust completely. She doesn’t see me that way… yet. I need time to change her view of me before broaching this topic. Which is why I didn’t tell her about needing a child to claim my inheritance.” Callum nearly choked on his whiskey. “You didn’t tell her?!”

“I didn’t want to put even more pressure on her. She already had enough on her plate today.”

*

After I explained the events of the day, Callum looked at me with genuine sympathy and muttered, “Damn, Ronan.”

“So … will you be my best man?” I asked in an effort to lighten the mood.

“I’ll do whatever you need, you know that.” This was Callum’s true character. When life got down to the nitty-gritty, there was no one I could count on more than him.

*

We consumed the entire bottle of whiskey, though it was only half full when we’d begun. We left my office drunk but not wasted, taking an Uber to my place, where he passed out in one of my guest rooms. Thanks to the alcohol’s effects, I quickly fell asleep. However, just before the sun rose, I found myself awake again. As I lay in bed, I contemplated the changes my life was about to undergo. I appreciated my space and preferred solitude. I considered my home to be sacred ground. For that reason, I never brought women there. Now, I was going to have a wife who would always be there, for better or for worse. I could only hope that with Natalie, the better would outweigh the worse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~