A Bossy Roommate (Next Door to a Billionaire #2)

28. Eden

28

EDEN

T he boardroom erupts after Carter leaves. I’m stuck there in shock, trying to process what the hell has just happened. I had been more than prepared to deny everything, to tell them that Carter and I were simply employee and employer. After all, that was what we had said we would do in case we were busted. And yet, Carter had blown me away. He’d not only admitted that we had been fake married, but he’d also said he didn’t regret it.

He had stood up for me, and even praised me for everybody to hear.

My heart is racing and my mind is being torn in different directions.

I want to run after Carter, to talk to him about what just happened. He was fired, that much is clear. But what about me? Am I going to be let go? None of the board members have said anything specifically, except for Mr. Bernie who urged me to stay and wait. Do they plan on discussing my fate now? Should I quit? Do I even want to stay?

I look around the room, trying to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to be doing. The board members are now hunched together, discussing with Mr. Bernie and Huxley, not loud enough for me to hear.

When he catches my eye, Mr. Bernie quiets everyone down. “You two are not married?” he asks, probably double-checking on Mr. Huxley’s request.

“We’re not.”

“And your apartment, when will it be available?”

“In a few days.” As fate and Hattie will have it, but that’s none of Mr. Bernie’s business.

He exchanges glances with the board, then turns back to me. “Eden, you may return to your desk. I will meet with you in a few to go over the next steps.”

“I’m…not fired?” I have to ask because I can’t quite believe what he’s saying.

“No, you’re not. If you were married to Mr. Bancroft, we would have to reconsider your employment. It seems to me that circumstances led to your involvement in a situation that was beyond your control. You only followed Mr. Bancroft’s orders…and since we don’t question your ability to carry out your duties effectively without him, and there have been no performance or misconduct issues on your part, you are permitted to remain employed with us.”

I desperately want to get out of there. The moment Mr. Bernie dismisses me, I slowly get up from my chair and walk out of the room. Then I book it. I have to catch Carter and talk to him before he leaves. I need to know what he wants to do next.

Also, did he really mean what he had said? That he didn’t regret anything? I’ve never known him to say something he didn’t believe in, but I need to know.

Unfortunately, when I get to the office, Carter is nowhere to be found. His office is just like he’d left it.

I grab my phone and fire off a text.

Me:

Where are you?

Him:

Going home. We’ll talk later.

Me:

Wait for me. I’m coming with you.

Him:

No, stay. Don’t throw the job away because of me. I’m fine.

The three dots appear, indicating to me that he’s writing another message.

I wait. Those are the longest twenty seconds of my life.

Him:

You remember our conversation? Always look forward. Maybe this is the kick in the ass I needed.

I briefly close my eyes. As much as I want to believe that Carter will get over the fact that he’s just lost the job he’d lived for, it’s unlikely. Yes, he’s incredible, and I don’t put it past him that not even fifteen minutes later, he’s able to roll up his sleeves and move on. But even he has to feel that the rug has just been pulled out from under him under absolutely unfair conditions that force him to start from zero again. The way those idiots in the executive suite had treated him makes me unbelievably angry.

I’d bet my last cupcake that by tomorrow he’ll have at least five serious job offers, that everything he’s done for Legacy up until this moment—and that’s a damn lot—will pay off.

That doesn’t make things any better.

I sink onto my chair, staring off into space. Now, I’ve been in several meetings with Carter since I started working here and admire the way he easily navigates speaking with clients and staff. The way he handles himself is another level entirely.

Then, after he’d walked out of the meeting room, he didn’t even stop at his office.

He’d just left the building.

What a man.

Of course, now I’m left with a spinning mind and no one to talk to.

That doesn’t last long. About two minutes later, Gretchen swings the glass doors open and rushes into the lobby, her blonde hair almost unraveling from its knot, looking concerned, her eyes huge behind her red-framed glasses.

“Hey, what happened?” she asks. “I saw Mr. Bancroft leave a few minutes ago and then you ran out and back. Everything okay?”

“Nope, it’s really not.” I figure she’ll find out sooner rather than later, and wanting her to hear it from me, I say, “Mr. Bancroft’s gone.”

Gretchen’s eyes go even wider. “ What ? They fired him? You’ve got to be kidding me. Why?”

“It’s a long story, and I don’t know how much time there is before Mr. Bernie comes, but you remember when Aunt Eleanor called me Carter’s wife?”

She nods right away. “Yeah…”

“She wasn’t entirely wrong. We were pretending to be married to make her happy.”

Concern morphs into shock as Gretchen slams her hands on her face, causing her glasses to nearly slide off her nose. She swiftly pushes them back into place. “Oh. My. God. I have so many questions.”

“And I’ll answer them as soon as I can. Not right now though. I still have my job, but I’m hanging on by a thread here. I don’t want to be caught gossiping when Mr. Bernie comes back.”

“Man, if it were me, I’d grab my stuff and go.”

“Don’t think I didn’t want to. I nearly did, but Carter was insistent I stay.”

So is Mr. Bernie.

The more I calm down and think about the whole situation, the odder it feels. I’m not entirely certain why Mr. Bernie hadn’t let me go, and why he’d made himself strong for me during the meeting, but I know this: I have to use my chance. I want to know who has made it seem as if Carter is at fault for the lost accounts.

I won’t tell anybody—including Gretchen—about my plan to investigate the setup. Because that’s what this is—a setup. I need to clear Carter’s name.

I’d bet my next month’s salary that the miserable bastard Huxley is behind it, but…under no circumstances can I be biased. I need solid evidence that will withstand Mr. Bernie’s critical gaze, because if he hasn’t put Huxley in his place so far, the accusations from Carter’s fake wife certainly won’t either. No, I have to follow Carter’s lead and, with a cool head but iron determination, uncover the essential proof.

Point is, I have to stay at Legacy until I accomplish this task. For whatever reason, I can’t shake off the suspicion that Mr. Bernie has allowed me to stay on for this exact reason, despite his inability to make it overtly apparent. Not that I can be certain of that. It’s possible that the reason behind his decision is straightforward, such as having sympathy toward me or recognizing that retaining me will benefit the firm. It’s no secret that I have a good relationship with our clients, and getting rid of both Carter and me at the same time might have raised too many concerns.

Either way, I’m ready to hold the person who’s responsible for this whole mess accountable.

Huxley. Based on everything I know about him so far, he’s a despicable individual, but he doesn’t have the energy to dig up the things about Carter that he put on the table today. Besides, nobody, and I mean nobody, likes him enough to casually exchange gossip with him.

There’s unmistakable evidence of someone within the company aiding him.

The three people who witnessed Auntie’s slip about us being married were Gretchen, Lexi, and Jaylin. One of them must have informed Huxley. I doubt that Gretchen has any involvement, but I could be wrong. Heck, I’ve been wrong and too trusting on many occasions… cough— Rob— cough .

The million-dollar question is: out of these three women, who is most likely to be a spy for Huxley?

It could be any of them.

I really hope it’s not Gretchen, even though some of the evidence points to her. She’s Huxley’s assistant. And I’d told her about my living situation with Carter. My shoulders fall. Oh, no.

Gretchen shakes her head, still in shock. “Okay, but I want to know all the details as soon as possible. How about lunch later?”

“Sorry, Gretchen, can’t,” I inform her, masking the dawning suspicion with a casual shrug. “I really need to get all this work done. I can text you when I have a second.”

“Don’t use the office messenger though, it’s been on the fritz.”

“Good to know. Weird. It was working fine yesterday.”

“Yeah, not sure what’s up. I’ve already called IT.”

“All right, thanks.”

“Now get back to work!” Affectionately, she shoots me a grin over her shoulder as she heads for the door.

Despite the intense situation, I attempt a smile. “I’m on it!”

I try to take the advice and get back to work. However, it’s next to impossible to think of anything other than that meeting. About ten minutes after Gretchen leaves, Mr. Bernie enters the office lobby. I try to keep my cool and act professional. It’s difficult to be faced with one of the men who had fired Carter, but again, he’d stood up for me against the board, and without him, I would now be jobless.

“I am sorry you were dragged into this mess, Ms. Ryan.”

I immediately get up. “Sir, I need you to know that everything that was said about Mr. Bancroft was done to paint him in a bad light,” I say firmly. “I know I’ve only been here a short time, but he loves this company and has always put work before his own personal feelings or matters. Nothing that’s been happening lately is his fault.”

“I appreciate what you’re saying, but as I said previously, my hands are tied,” Mr. Bernie says firmly. “Other information has come to light that wasn’t mentioned in the meeting. We had no other choice. We had to let him go.”

“What information?” Probably some BS Huxley conjured up out of the blue.

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Yes, I do,” I insist. “I’m his assistant, I know his day-to-day better than anyone else. Whatever you think you know, I guarantee is wrong.”

I know I’m treading on thin ice, but what else am I supposed to do? I can’t sit here and be quiet while Carter’s good name is smeared.

“I appreciate your dedication to your former boss,” Bernie says, his tone taking on a sharpness that lets me know I’ve pushed my luck, and he doesn’t intend to explain himself any further. “Now, in the interim, Mr. Bradley Everhart is on his way from Connecticut and will be filling in Mr. Bancroft’s vacant position until further notice.”

That amazes me. Everyone knows Carter and Bradley are close associates. It confirms my suspicion that Mr. Bernie is taking advantage of the opportunity to discredit the allegations against Carter and bring him back.

“In the meantime,” he continues, “cancel all of Mr. Bancroft’s appointments and tell them you’ll be rescheduling at a later date. They don’t need to know just yet that Mr. Bancroft was let go. Am I understood?”

I bite my tongue. There are so many words I want to say to him, and if I had any evidence, I absolutely would. Instead, thinking about my self-imposed quest to redeem Carter, I swallow them down and nod. “Understood.”

He leaves after that, and all I can do is sit and stare at the computer screen.

Unsurprisingly, I have a challenging time getting much of anything done. I keep checking my phone on the off chance Carter has texted. He does, only to ask what I want for dinner. It’s such an innocent question yet speaks volumes. If I were in his shoes, dinner choices would be the last thing on my mind.

Mr. Everhart comes a few hours later. He walks through the glass double doors, talking to Mr. Bernie. They continue speaking as if I’m not there. “If you find anything out of the ordinary, compile it all, and we will go through it,” Mr. Bernie is telling him in a hushed voice.

“Understood.”

Mr. Bernie leaves, and Mr. Everhart sighs deeply as he turns to acknowledge me. “We’re a team here, and I want us to be on equal footing. No ‘sir’ or ‘Mr. Everhart.’ Just Bradley will do,” he offers. “Carter and I are friends, and I know about the fake marriage agreement.”

“You have to know that Carter is innocent,” I blurt without acknowledging anything else he said. “He would never do anything to jeopardize this company.”

“Trust me, I know that better than anyone. This is all bullshit—it has to be. The problem is, we need proof.”

I sigh with relief. “Thank God you see that. I don’t know why the board can’t.”

“Because you and I know him personally.” Bradley shrugs. “We both know how much this place means to him and what he’s sacrificed.”

“Mr. Huxley has to have something to do with it.”

“Of course he does. The thing is, we need evidence.”

“What should we do first?”

Bradley looks at his watch. “Start fresh in the morning,” he says when he realizes the time. I’m startled to see it as well. My mind had been spinning so fast I’d lost track. “I’m sure you’re dying to get home. Tomorrow, you and I will go through all these files one at a time and see what we can find.” He points at a bunch of folders of Carter’s clients that have decided to not renew their contracts with Legacy Builders.

Feeling relieved that there’s some semblance of a plan, I nod with understanding. “Sounds good to me. I’m glad you’re taking over the position for now. At least I know I can trust you.”

“Likewise,” Bradley states firmly. “We’re going to figure this out.”

The elevator doors open on our floor and Hattie’s door is already ajar. She comes out to meet me. “I have to ask—is everything quite all right? It seems like Carter has returned home early, but he doesn’t seem to be in a terribly chatty mood, I’m afraid. And you, love, you’ve never got home quite so late!”

“Everything’s fine.” I try to rush her along while still being polite. “How’s the move going?”

At that, Hattie winces. “Ah. Actually, I’ve been meaning to speak to you about that. Bit awkward, I’m afraid… but after careful consideration, I’ve come to the decision that I won’t be moving, after all.”

Oh.

Well, of course she isn’t. Because why would anything go according to plan? I can’t even begin to wrap my head around anything. My mind is already consumed with other more important things.

“What happened?” I ask. “You were so excited.”

“Oh, my dear, I just thought ‘why on earth am I uprooting myself?’ The thing is, my feline companions have a distinct aversion to change—and, truth be told, so do I. Relocating to a bigger place just so I can accommodate more cats may have been rather an ill-advised idea, I must admit.”

I can understand that. Honestly, I don’t fault her for it. “As long as you’re happy, Hattie. That’s all that matters.”

“I do apologize, my dear. I’m completely aware that my decision means you won’t be able to have the apartment.”

“I’ll figure something out. Have a nice evening, Hattie,” I say, turning to unlock my door.

“Oh wait, there is another little thing I should probably tell you…”

“Can it wait until later, please? I really need to talk to Carter.”

She nods. “Of course, it’s probably of little consequence… or so I hope, anyway. It may well be quite trivial, in fact. Well, I must get on with unpacking now. But should you see Eleanor, please do convey my heartfelt thanks. It was her persuasive words that convinced me to stay, you see.”

My jaw falls open, but Hattie doesn’t give me time to respond. She steps into the apartment and closes the door behind her.

I’m more than a little distracted going into Carter’s place. First Carter was fired—possibly because of me, because I’d entrusted Gretchen with info I shouldn’t have—and now the apartment I was supposed to stay in isn’t going to be available anymore.

My conversation with Hattie is forgotten when I walk inside.

Carter stands waiting, two glasses of wine in his hands.

“There you are! Welcome home,” he says.

The kitchen table is decorated with a large bouquet of vibrant roses and white calla lilies.

My heart skips a beat. Maybe even two. “What’s this?”

Carter looks at the table and then back at me. “Well, we have a lot to talk about, and I figured we were overdue for a proper date. The kind with flowers, good food, and not just moonlight as an added perk.”

“You didn’t have to go to all the trouble. Especially not after what happened today…”

“Yeah, I did. Come, sit down.”

My feet carry me to him even while my brain races to process what’s going on. The loving way he smiles takes my breath away, and my hand shakes when I reach for the wineglass. “I take it you meant everything you said in the meeting?” I ask, my throat suddenly dry. “That you had no regrets and would do it all over again?”

“You know me by now, Eden. When have I ever said something I didn’t mean?”

He’s right. I know he wouldn’t have said the things he’d said if he didn’t absolutely mean them. My question probably came from deep insecurities left over from what Rob did to me, a lingering scar that had started to heal the moment I met the man standing in front of me. Carter is nothing like Rob. I know I can trust him, that what he says is one hundred percent true (except for that one time he told me there were two beds in his room).

“I…don’t know what to say.”

Carter puts his glass down and holds the chair out for me. “Sit.”

I do. Carter takes the chair next to me and lifts his glass, clinks it with mine in a small toast before we take a sip. “There’s a lot we need to talk about.” He reaches over to take my hand. “Let me get straight to the point.”

“You could have denied it!” I blurt out.

Briefly, he finds himself uncertain of my implication. “What do you mean?” he asks.

I know I’ve interrupted him, but I need to get it out, to come clean. “I would have gone along with you. Because now I think it’s my fau?—”

“Eden, I don’t have any intention of talking about work right now. I just got off the phone with Bradley, and he’s keeping me in the loop. There’s something else I need to tell you. Something important.”

“Uh-oh…what?”