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Fynn grabs away one of the papers, bringing it closer. He stares at it a second before turning to look at me. "Wife." The word carries a hint of irritation.
I give him a little smile. "Yes, husband?"
He sets the paper displaying my primary savings account down between us. "Why is there a million dollars in this account?"
I glance at the woman across the desk before looking back at Fynn. I don't necessarily want to explain this in front of her, so I hold up one finger. "Would you give us just a minute?"
Her smile is tight as she nods. "Of course."
I wait until she leaves and the door is closed before I begin. "I was in the process of moving some of my investment funds around when I left Minneapolis. I was concerned about needing to access them, so I arranged for everything to be liquidated and put into this account temporarily." It was the first phone call I made when I stopped my rental car to pick up a burner phone. After transferring over any important numbers, I took my old phone apart and destroyed it, leaving the pieces in random garbage cans when I stopped to pee.
I’d been stupid for many years, but I wasn't dumb enough to think my father wouldn't steal every penny of mine he could get his hand on.
Fynn’s eyes stay on my face as he reaches over to trap another of the papers under his finger, dragging it across the desk before finally glancing down at the numbers on it. "For the love of—"
“Again, I was very much in a rush and just had to put everything somewhere I knew my father would have the most difficult time getting to it." My father might not be as powerful as he wants to be, but I didn't put it past him to attempt to influence the man who handled my investments, so I pulled everything within an hour of driving away, sending it all straight into my bank accounts.
"These are only insured up to—"
"I know." I steal back my papers, stacking them together before tapping them into a neat line. "The money was never meant to be there for an extended period of time. It was just temporary."
Fynn scrubs one hand over his face as he lifts his phone, eyes on me as he makes a call. "It's Fynn Hadaway. I need your earliest appointment." He taps one finger against the desk. "Excellent. We will see you in a few hours." He sets his phone onto the desk. "Apparently, we will also be making a visit to my investment banker this afternoon."
I expect for him to reach for the door to let the banker back in, but instead he leans close, lips coasting against my ear. "I'm very proud of the amount of money you've accrued, my lovely wife. Feel free to do with it as you choose, as long as you don't leave it sitting in a savings account with an interest rate that is criminal."
After kissing my temple, he leans back and opens the door, leaving me grinning like an idiot for the rest of the appointment.
We finish our business with the bank, and when I leave I have a brand-new debit card for my own checking account, as well as one for Fynn’s coming in the mail. We stop for a quick lunch, and then go into the office. But instead of going up to Fynn’s floor when we reach the building, we head to an unmarked office at the back of the main floor. The man inside the small space stands as we enter. "Mr. Hadaway. Is everything okay with your office?"
"My office is beautiful, Jason, however I find myself in need of more space. Will there be anything larger opening up soon?"
Jason turns to his computer, scrolling through a few pages before giving Fynn options. "The space directly across the hall from you will be open three months from now, but it doesn't have as nice of a view as where you're at currently." He clicks a few more times. "However, the space directly above you is coming available next month. It is a significant amount more—"
"We'll take it." He laces his fingers with mine. "Is it available for my designer to come through and take measurements?"
Jason leans back in his seat, intertwining his fingers before hooking them behind his head. "I'm sure I can arrange for time after business hours with the current tenant."
"Excellent." Fynn is already halfway out the door, tugging me alongside him. "We'll be in touch." He leads me to the elevator.
I glance back at the building manager’s office as we wait for it to arrive. “Does he know you own the building?”
Fynn shrugs, like it’s an irrelevant fact.
I start to laugh. I can’t help it.
He lifts a brow at me. “What?”
The elevator arrives and we step inside. I turn to him as the doors close. “I just don’t understand how so many people believed Jessica’s bullshit. You don’t even pull rank in your own fucking building for God’s sake.”
Fynn appears genuinely puzzled. “Why would I?” The elevator doors open and we walk out into the hall. “A bigger office will be lovely, yes, but I can’t say being forced to share a desk would be a tragedy.” He shoots me a grin. “Especially if you plan to continue wearing dresses like that to work.”
“I actually prefer suits.” I purse my lips, pondering. “But I guess they probably won’t be as comfortable to wear here as they were up north.”
“Pity.” Fynn sighs dramatically, but his gaze is hungry as it skims down my body, hanging on the full fabric of my skirt. “I suppose you’ll simply have to continue wearing these much more accommodating sun dresses.”
My skin is fully flushed and my body is throbbing when we walk into Fynn’s office and discover his assistant, Brian, flailing around the space, looking distressed.
When his eyes come my way I’m pretty sure I’m the cause.
