“It is beauty and discipline. You will fly, my bird, high above the rest.”

His cane hit the floor again, and its sharp stamp woke me from reverie.

“First girl, en avant!”

I flickered with the candles and moved forward. The divertissement began.

Katherine made Charlie’s job easy. Her work was stunningly beautiful. The prose painted tender yet dark imagery, and she knew Declan would be willing to offer a contract. Of course, he could never know Katherine had actually written it.

There was still snow in the air as the car wove through morning traffic. Charlie’s cell phone beeped, and she retrieved it from the pocket of her coat.

Unknown: Meet me at your home today. 1 PM. Don’t be late.

Charlie swallowed hard. She knew Katherine would follow through with her plan if Charlie didn’t follow her instructions to the letter. Clicking the phone off, Charlie caught a glimpse of the bruises Katherine had left on her wrist. The night before, when they’d gone to bed, Charlie left on her long sleeved Steelers shirt, citing that she was still cold. In reality, she hadn’t wanted Declan to take note of the bruises on her wrist from Katherine’s fingers. Declan would have most certainly noticed, forcing her to explain things before she had a chance to work out the details of her plan and come to peace with her decision.

Now she knew another plan was necessary. She didn’t trust Katherine and was concerned she might do her harm. She needed a way to let Declan know what was going on without Katherine knowing, and not before she had left to meet her. She pulled out the manuscript and quickly started marking it with her red Sharpie. When the driver pulled in front of the Pearse building, Charlie’s anxiety gave way to resolve. When she walked into the reception area in front of Declan’s office, she felt confident of her choice.

“Natalie, could you see to it that Mr. Pearse and I aren’t disturbed until he tells you otherwise,” Charlie said in a quiet voice. “I need his full attention this morning.”

“Of course,” Natalie replied.

Charlie headed in the direction of Declan’s office. The dread of what Katherine might do to her intensified with every step. Still, she needed to protect her family; she needed to protect Declan.

When she opened Declan’s door, he glanced up. When he realized it was her, he immediately rose from his desk. “Charlie, you could have stayed home. I know you aren’t feeling well. You should be in bed.”

Declan placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling her into his chest.

“I’m feeling better. Very rested thanks to your amazing bedside manner,” she spoke calmly. “I do need to talk to you about something … About what really happened.”

Declan led her to the couch “Come sit, talk to me.”

As they moved toward the other side of the room, Charlie pulled her hand from his grasp.

“I can’t sit still, Declan. I’m too excited, too nervous. I just need to tell you and pray you aren’t too pissed off at me.”

“Tell me then, Charlotte.” He slid his arms up the sleeves of her coat, giving her a gentle squeeze. Charlie flinched, moving her arms away from his grasp.

“Take off your coat, Charlotte.” His brows furrowed.

Charlie hesitated, her breath blowing through her lips. Damn pale skin. You’re going to give it away, aren’t you?

Unwilling to wait, Declan stripped the coat from her shoulders and held her arm out so he could slide the sleeves down. As soon as the coat was off, he saw her wrist. He dragged her to the window where he could get a better look at the marks. “What the hell happened, Charlotte?” He demanded. “Who did this to you?”

“It is nothing really. You know how clumsy I am.”

“Charlotte, you and I both know your gracefully challenged status didn’t produce finger-sized bruises on your wrist.” His voice was low and menacing. “What the fuck is going on?”

“No. Of course not. I suppose I better start at the beginning,” she said barely above a whisper.

Charlie moved to place her hand on Declan’s chest. He was percolating with fury and she knew it.

“Yesterday, when I went to pick up our lunch, one of our authors stopped me on the street. I had been in contact with her several times without your knowledge. I am afraid I went behind your back and contacted an author of a manuscript that’s been sitting on your slush pile for months.”

“Is that why you have bruises on you?” Declan demanded. “Were you telling her that we weren’t going to publish it?”

“No, that’s not it. Her manuscript is amazing. I think we should publish it. I want to offer her a contract,” she choked out in frustration.

“Fuck, Charlotte, I don’t give a damn about a manuscript,” he responded explosively. “I’m more concerned about you. How did you get the bruises, Charlotte?”

“We got to talking in front of the building. I slipped on a patch of black ice, wearing my heels out instead of sensible footwear, and Ms. Rouseault was kind enough to stop my fall.” Charlotte pushed forward then, her expression pleading and earnest. “I think you haven’t been giving her a fair shake. I want you to look at her manuscript today. I want to be able to tell her the good news this afternoon.”

“Charlotte, my sweet darling Charlotte.” He spoke more calmly. “I’m not angry with you in the least. You should have just let me know. I would have gladly handed you everything in that pile on my desk.”

“I didn’t want to go behind your back,” she choked out. “You were out of the office that week, in Toronto, and Ms. Rouseault was so persistent. And her writing is so incredible, I just had to …” she swallowed hard, visibly making an effort to maintain composure. “I was worried you’d punish me for not asking permission.”

“Charlotte, work is not an area for me to assert my control over you,” Declan said quietly. “I don’t want you to feel that you can’t do your job properly because you’re worried I will retaliate when you push the envelope a bit.”

Declan leaned in and kissed her. As he pulled away, a sob erupted from Charlie’s throat. She could no longer hold it together. Tears flooded her eyes.

“Charlotte, my sweet girl, please don’t cry,” he said, reaching for her again.

“I was so scared.” She sobbed, “I didn’t want you to be disappointed with me.”

“Shhh, I could never be disappointed in you. Damn it. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I should have made it clear. In business matters, you are my employee not my submissive. You wouldn’t have had to go behind my back if I hadn’t been such a damned fool.”

“Will you consider my recommendation? I left you some notes in the manuscript.” Her face was blotchy and red from crying.

He cupped her head against him, stroking her hair. “I will. I promise. Right after my lunch meeting. You have my word on it.”

“Thank you, Declan.”

Declan kissed her hair, and then carefully pulled her upright. “Charlotte, go freshen up. Take as long as you need. I don’t want anyone seeing you upset like this. It would raise a lot of questions. As soon as you’re ready, I want you to go back home and rest. I will pick you up after work.”

***

The ride home was uneventful. Was this a bad idea? That’s all she could think about at the moment. A parade could have passed in front of them, and it wouldn’t have caught her attention. Katherine had texted her during the commute, and she asked if Charlie was on her way yet so she could wait across the street for her.

Or rather, she hadn’t asked. She demanded Charlie already be on her way. “You better be on your way or else,” she texted. A brief thought flitted through Charlie’s mind. If she told someone and they caught Katherine across the street, how could she publish the photos to the Internet? The thought dissolved as soon as it had appeared though. Charlie didn’t want to underestimate Katherine. She had no idea if the publishing contract was Katherine’s goal or if it was part of some elaborate scheme. Did she have a partner? What if all it took was a quick phone call to insure the photos went public if something went wrong on Katherine’s end?