Page 22 of Escorting the CEO
I wokeup before my alarm, confused. It was still dark. I was warm, comfortable, peaceful… and I had my arm draped over someone.
She murmured, snuggling closer to me.
I sat bolt upright. At some point while I’d slept, Rory had joined me underneath the covers. We’d beenspooning.
What the fuck?Rhodes Barrington did not spoon.
I glanced at the clock: four a.m. I slid from the warm bed, determined to hit the gym and punish myself.
One night—a few hours—and I’d already made a mistake.
And Rhodes Barrington did not make mistakes.
COMPLICATIONS
RORY
I was confusedwhen I woke up.Where am I?I glimpsed the dim bedroom, noting the giant bed I was curled up in, the fancy wallpaper, the immaculate curtains. It looked like a room at the Four Seasons, but I’d never been to a Four Seasons.
And then I remembered.
I’d sold myself to a billionaire.
Where was Rhodes Barrington? The other side of the bed was empty, but it had been slept in. Panicked, I peered under the covers: I was still in my skirt suit. Relief washed over me, even as my emotions tumbled inside.
I slept next to a stranger last night.
Who happens to be my fiancé.
Now, the morning after, I grasped the full impact of what I’d done. I’d traded away the next five years of my freedom for an astronomical sum of money, more than I’d ever dreamed of. My grandmother’s beloved farm was saved. I’d be able to care for Josie and Bo for the rest of their lives.
And yet, it was a hollow victory.
I cared little about money. I valued what it could do for my family—I’d be a fool not to. But what I’d always valued most was my ability to be there for my brother and sister. When my momleft, their entire world could have been shattered. But I refused to let that happen. I took them to school, made their lunches, made sure that we had dinner as a family every night, and took them to the playground. They missed our mom, but I provided them with the stability and love of a real family.
I’d promised I’d always be there for them.
But now I was going to break their hearts, even as I saved us all from financial ruin.
There was a knock on the door.
“Yes?”
Philips opened it a crack. “I have coffee for you, Ms. Harris. And baked goods.”
“Thank you, Philips.”
The butler, immaculate in a fresh tuxedo, wheeled in a tray. He poured delicious-smelling coffee into a large mug. With a flourish, he removed a silver lid to reveal a tray-full of muffins, bagels, scones, and croissants. “From the Chef. He’s French—and so excited you’re here. He said you can eat carbs because you are young,” he said, eyes sparkling.
“Ha. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Philips smiled and bowed. “Mr. Barrington has requested your presence in his office in one hour. I will send one of the maids in after you’ve eaten to help you dress.”
“What? I don’t need help getting dressed.”
He arched an eyebrow. “At Barrington Manor, wedress. In other words, every day is a semi-formal occasion. Suits for the men, day dresses or tailored pants for the women.”
When I gaped at him, he held up the tray of baked goods. “Just focus on the treats. There is much good to be had here, even with all the formality.”
