Uncovering You: The Contract by Scarlett Edwards

booked months in advance. I’ve never been. But, I hear it’s magnificent. You’re so lucky. And lovely. If you excuse my candor. It’ll be the most perfect dinner date.”
    “Look, I know you think that Mr. Stonehart wants me there,” I try, “but honestly, after the way he dismissed me, I’m fairly certain he doesn’t want to see me again.”
    Or I him .
    “No, no, no. You have to understand, Miss Ryder. Mr. Stonehart is a very busy man. He asked me to call you to set up today’s meeting. I’ve only been here a few weeks, but I know this morning was just a chance for him to gauge your personality. Dinner tonight is when he really made time for you. If he didn’t want to see you again,” she adds conspiratorially, “he would have sent you out through the main office entrance.”
    “So you were just out here waiting for me?” I ask. “Who else comes through the elevator?”
    “Only Mr. Stonehart.”
    “Then, why is your desk there?”
    The girl’s eyes dart to her feet. “Mr. Stonehart prefers his secretaries to have privacy while still in, um… training.”
    An uncomfortable shiver runs down my spine. I have a strong suspicion about the type of training she is talking about.
    “Anyway,” she perks back up, “6:40 tonight. Don’t forget. The driver will be waiting for you. Oh, and there’s a certain dress code…” She trails off. “Here, let me just write it down for you.”
    She runs back to her desk, and I see no choice but to follow. She takes out a business card from the drawer and writes on the back:
     
    6:40PM. Today. Dress code: Professional .
     
    She beams when she hands the card to me. I stuff it into my pocket without any further thought. It’s not like I’m dumb enough to forget those instructions.
    “Thanks,” I mutter. “I wonder. Does Mr. Stonehart expect such compliance from everyone he meets?”
    “Oh yes,” the girl nods. “Jeremy always gets what he wants.”
     

Chapter Twenty-One
    (Present day)
     
    Jeremy.
    Jeremy Stonehart .
    My hand trembles as I reach into the pocket I’d forgotten all about. I feel the edges of the card in the dark.
    The one I was not supposed to be given.
    My trembling thumbs slide over the slightly-raised letters of his signature. The letters imprinted in my mind are the same ones I feel under my fingers:
    J.S.
     

Chapter Twenty-Two
    (Three weeks ago)
     
    I rush after the hostess as she leads me through a maze of tables. I’d only decided to come at the last minute—and only after I saw the black limousine waiting for me outside.
    In fact, all day I was certain I’d blow Stonehart off.
    It was not curiosity that changed my mind, but desperation. Tonight is the last night I am allowed to stay at the apartment. Tomorrow I get evicted, with only a half-baked plan for what I will do next.
    Maybe Stonehart has something to offer other than stark arrogance.
    I see him alone in a secluded corner. His eyes are dark and his jaw is set. He does not dignify me with a greeting as I sit down.
    “Can I offer you…” the hostess starts.
    “No,” Stonehart barks. His tone makes the hostess swallow and turn away.
    “You’re late,” he growls at me.
    “Your driver—”
    “Was at your door at precisely 6:40.” Stonehart’s entire body is like a coiled spring. It makes me fidget uncomfortably. “You came to the car at 6:58. Eighteen minutes , Lilly. That’s how long I’ve been waiting here for you.”
    I glance at my watch. It shows six minutes after eight. “Reservations were for eight…” I begin.
    “Which still makes you late,” Stonehart snaps. “Precision is important to me. Do you know how many people I have waited for as long as I’ve waited for you in the last ten years?” He looks up, then, and his dark eyes burn with a rage unlike any I’ve seen contained in another human. It shocks me how little of it seeps into his voice.
    The contrast of it to his manner, cold as ice, frightens me.
    “I—”
    “ Two ,” he