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“What are you talking about, Mylee?” Kai asked slowly. “Come down here so we can talk about this.”
“No,” she snapped. “You know what you did. I’m still going to honor my contract, but that’s all I’m doing. Please don’t bother me on my off time.”
She spun back toward her bedroom as we all called out to her in unison, but the door closed again, leaving us all to stare helplessly at one another.
“You still think it’s PMS?” Lincoln asked me sarcastically, and I gave him the finger.
“What did you two do?” Kai barked, but I honestly had no answer for him.
* * *
For the next two days, I didn’t see Mylee at all. She purposely avoided us, ensuring she only came downstairs when we were out of the condo or in our rooms. She didn’t use the driver, either, and I had no idea where she spent her days when I was at the office. I missed her silly banter and hot body and wanted her to just talk to me.
I tried texting her, but she didn’t respond. I was starting to have mixed feelings about her presence there under contract. I had no idea how she was going to act once we were in public, and it worried me.
And lucky me, I was just the one to find out because she was on the schedule next with me.
At eight o’clock on Thursday night, she waited for me in the foyer, wearing a gorgeous black gown with a ruffled hem. The pearls around her neck made her cleavage look so inviting. I resisted the urge to kiss the curve of her neck when she offered me a stony look.
“Are you sure you’re going to be able to do this?” I asked her warily. “Because if you’re not up for it—”
Like a switch had been flipped, her face shifted, and a warm, brilliant smile formed on her lips. “Of course I can do this,” she said sweetly. “It’s my job, isn’t it? Haven’t you seen?”
I frowned, unsure about what she meant, but I didn’t want to pick a fight with her just before attending the dinner. She lost the charismatic smile and took my arm, allowing me to lead her down the hallway to the elevator.
Lyndon scowled openly at her now, and I frowned at him. “Bad night, Lyndon?” I asked pointedly.
“No, sir, Mr. Webb.”
“Then why do you look like you swallowed a lemon?”
Through my peripheral vision, I saw Mylee smirk, but it was gone by the time I looked at her directly.
Charlie ushered us into the car, but Mylee hesitated at the door, taking a deep, shuddering breath.
“You okay?” I asked again, concern creeping through me. I realized this was the first time she had been back in a car since the accident. “Hey, do you want to forget about this tonight?”
“I’m fine,” she grumbled, sliding inside without looking at me.
I stared after her, my jaw twitching, but she had already turned her head to look out the window.
“The Sandington, Charlie,” I informed him.
As we took off, Mylee’s hands curled into fists around her clutch, and she kept her eyes down in her lap. Instinctively, I reached for her hand, half expecting her to wrench it away. But she allowed me to take it, her palms clammy.
“Babe, we can go home,” I told her quietly. “I really don’t mind.”
“It’s fine, Paxton.”
I chewed on the insides of my cheeks, unsure of what else to say.
“It’s not far,” I told her softly. “But we don’t have to do this.”
She didn’t answer but closed her eyes, her breath evening.
“Charlie, slow down. We’re not in a rush,” I told the driver.
He wasn’t driving that fast, but it wouldn’t kill him to go slower. Mylee gave me a veiled, grateful look.
