Chapter 12 - GUNTHER HATED THE MAN WHO NEVER GAVE HIM A REASON TO
Elias Ward did not flirt with Kayla.
That was the problem.
If Elias had been inappropriate, Gunther could have disliked him comfortably.
Instead, Elias was respectful.
Calm.
Competent.
And apparently incapable of being intimidated by a man whose name had once emptied restaurants.
Their first actual meeting happened Friday afternoon.
Kayla had invited Gunther to a fundraising event at the rehabilitation center.
Not because he was donating.
She had made that painfully clear.
“You are attending as my guest.”
“I understand.”
“No checks.”
“Yes.”
“No surprise endowments.”
“Yes.”
“No cornering board members.”
Gunther frowned.
“I don’t corner people.”
Kayla stared.
“Fine.”
“No cornering.”
Gunther arrived wearing a dark suit without entourage inside the building.
One security man waited outside under prior agreement.
Growth.
Elias approached.
“Mr. Woods.”
“Dr. Ward.”
They shook hands.
Elias looked him directly in the eye.
Interesting.
Most men either overcompensated or looked away.
“You’ve done good work here,” Gunther said.
Elias smiled.
“Kayla has.”
Gunther glanced at her.
Kayla gave Elias a look.
“I’m standing right here.”
“I know.”
Elias turned back.
“She rebuilt our insurance advocacy pipeline in five months.”
Gunther felt pride.
Then immediate suspicion at his own pride.
He had to stop treating her accomplishments as something reflected on him.
“I know she’s good.”
Kayla heard the restraint.
She also heard what he did not say.
I’m proud of you.
Later, while Gunther spoke with Sam near the food table, Elias joined Kayla by the windows.
“Your boyfriend is less terrifying than advertised.”
Kayla nearly choked.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
Elias raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“I mean—”
She stopped.
That sounded worse.
Gunther and Kayla had been together nearly a year in practical terms.
Dates.
Nights together.
Arguments.
Letters.
Seventeen months of prison separation.
But they had never named it.
Not officially.
Elias noticed.
“Complicated?”
Kayla sighed.
“Extremely.”
Across the room, Gunther watched.
Sam followed his gaze.
“Don’t.”
Gunther looked at him.
“Don’t what?”
“Do whatever your face is planning.”
“My face isn’t planning anything.”
“Your face looks like it wants to buy the hospital and fire the doctor.”
Gunther turned.
“I wouldn’t.”
Sam snorted.
“That was almost believable.”
A few minutes later, Kayla came over.
Elias beside her.
“Gunther, Elias is helping create the new adaptive employment program.”
“Good.”
“We’re going to Detroit next month to meet another center.”
Gunther looked at her.
“You’re traveling together?”
Kayla’s eyes narrowed.
There.
Too sharp.
Gunther corrected.
“Work trip?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Two nights.”
He nodded.
“That sounds useful.”
Kayla studied him.
He meant it.
Mostly.
Elias smiled.
“We promise to return her.”
Gunther looked at him.
Kayla closed her eyes.
“Elias.”
“What?”
“Don’t poke the former crime boss.”
Gunther said, “I’m not that fragile.”
Elias grinned.
“Good.”
Gunther disliked him even more.
That night, Kayla and Gunther sat in his living room.
She kicked off her shoes.
“You behaved.”
“I always behave.”
She looked at him.
“Today.”
“Fine.”
Gunther handed her tea.
“I have a question.”
“About Elias?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Kayla smiled.
“Ask.”
“Why did you say I wasn’t your boyfriend?”
She froze.
So he had heard.
“You were listening?”
“I was fifteen feet away.”
“That’s not surveillance.”
“No.”
Fair.
Kayla took a breath.
“Because I don’t know what to call you.”
Gunther leaned back.
“Gunther works.”
She laughed.
“You know what I mean.”
He did.
“What do you want to call me?”
“That’s not how this works.”
“Why?”
“Because a relationship label requires two people.”
Gunther thought.
“My girlfriend sounds adolescent.”
“Your maid sounds worse.”
He flinched.
Good.
“My partner?”
Kayla looked at him.
The word landed differently.
Equal.
Chosen.
Not owned.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“You don’t get a promotion because you selected appropriate vocabulary.”
He almost smiled.
“What do you call me?”
She thought.
“My partner.”
Simple.
Gunther nodded.
“Then you are mine.”
Kayla’s eyebrow rose.
He caught himself immediately.
“You are my partner.”
“Better.”
He sighed.
“You enjoy this too much.”
“I really do.”
For the first time, they named it.
Not boyfriend.
Not lover.
Not billionaire and maid.
Partners.
The word should have settled them.
Instead, it made what happened next more dangerous.
Because the following Monday, Kayla received an anonymous email.
No message.
One attachment.
A photograph.
Jacqueline Mercer entering Gunther’s house.
Another photograph.
Victor Romano entering from the rear entrance twenty minutes later.
May you like
And beneath them:
ASK HIM WHICH ONE OF THEM HE’S LYING TO YOU ABOUT.
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