Chapter 3
His phone rang. He didn't answer, but put down the supplies and stood.
“Take the rest of the day off. Go home and rest.”
He walked out. A moment later, Summer heard Vivian's petulant voice outside.
“Where did you go, Adrian? My stomach hurts. Come rub it for me.”
“Then why are you running around?” he asked gently. “I'll carry you back so you can rest.”
Summer looked away, finished tending her wounds, and left for her rented apartment.
The next day was Saturday. Around noon, Adrian called.
“You left some things at the house. Come get them. Be here in half an hour.”
When she arrived at his mansion, he had already packed everything into a cardboard box.
She picked it up to leave just as Vivian's car stopped outside. Vivian walked over.
“Why are you here, Ms. Bennett? What's in the box?”
Adrian answered before Summer could.
“I asked her to bring some documents. She's taking out a little trash on her way.”
Summer's breath caught. She glanced into the box.
The cup she'd bought to match his. Her slippers. The apron she always wore. All the little things she'd once so carefully chosen to leave in his home.
She kept her expression neutral and turned to go.
“Wait,” Vivian called. “I'm having friends over. We're short a pair of hands. Stay and help.”
“Ms. Hart, I'm Mr. Cole's assistant, not party staff.”
Vivian turned a wounded look on Adrian.
He immediately frowned.
“Stay. Don't forget you're paid separately for your work as my executive assistant and my personal assistant.”
Summer had to stay. Vivian and her friends deliberately kept her running, ignoring the housekeeper and insisting she do everything herself.
Sweat soaked her clothes and stung her injuries.
Adrian noticed how pale she was.
“Sit down—”
“Sit down and peel my shrimp,” Vivian finished.
“I have a severe shellfish allergy,” Summer said.
The woman beside Vivian scoffed. “It's an allergy. It's not going to kill you.”
Summer frowned and looked toward Adrian.
“Why are you looking at him?” the woman demanded. “We asked you to peel shrimp.”
Another guest snickered. “Don't tell me you're trying to seduce him. Have you seen yourself? You could stand in front of him naked and he wouldn't look twice.”
“Exactly. He's only ever loved Vivian. Right, Adrian?”
“Of course. Vivian's the only one.” He looked at her. “I'll peel them for you.”
Vivian put her hand over his.
“You shouldn't have to do that. I want Summer to do it. Can't you give me what I want?”
He studied her, then smiled indulgently.
“Whatever you say.”
He fetched the first-aid kit, found an antihistamine, and offered it to Summer.
“Take one first.”
Summer looked at the packet and remembered a dinner three years earlier. The housekeeper had served shrimp, and Adrian had peeled one for her—something he'd never done before.
She had been so happy that she'd eaten it despite knowing she was allergic.
Her severe reaction had frightened him. It was the first time he'd shown real concern for her. Afterward, he had always kept allergy medicine in the house.
Summer gave a faint smile, took the pill, and started peeling.
Adrian saw that smile. A strange uneasiness passed through him.
Something had changed.
The reaction came quickly. Summer broke out in swollen red patches. She grew dizzy and found it difficult to breathe.
Vivian's friends kept laughing.
“She was ugly before. Now look at her—her face is huge.”
“I can't look again. How does someone get that ugly?”
Summer's vision began to darken. She heard anger in Adrian's voice.
“Enough—”
Then she lost consciousness.
When she woke in the hospital, Adrian was sitting beside her, looking guilty and concerned.
He held her hand.
“I'm sorry you had to go through that, Summer. Vivian's always been spoiled. Don't hold it against her…”
Without changing expression, Summer slowly withdrew her hand.
“I won't, Mr. Cole. It's the weekend. Just make sure I'm paid double.”
He stared at her.
Her eyes were completely still. His hand was empty. Once again, he felt as though something had slipped away.
