7. Colton Cold

Jane

This is a nightmare. What did I get myself into? I need to make money and soon. Between rent, the vet visit, and the grocery shopping I did for the week, there isn't much left of the advance Colton gave me. And now, I have to give everything back.

I was so close to solving all my problems. But I won't do it if it means abandoning a defenseless being in the process.

Where is the front door of this place again? Damn it. I knew it would be a mansion, but this is ridiculous. It's the biggest house I've ever stepped into.

Finally, I recognize the large corridor I entered through earlier. The walls are painted a cool slate gray that reminds me of Colton's eyes. Like his office, the decoration is very clinical, with abstract paintings and scant decorations. We could call it Colton Cold.

When I reach the front door, Colton's voice thunders behind me. "Jane. Please, wait."

I don't want to stop. I'm mad at him, since he was completely irrational. Never once in the interview process was this mentioned as a requirement. But I force my feet to a halt anyway. Because if there's any chance of this getting back on track, I need to seize it.

Turning around, I meet his gaze. "What is it?"

"You can bring your cat," he says quickly, as if to get it over with.

"Truffles."

"Yes. You can bring Truffles, but she'll have to stay on your side of the house. Is that okay? Will she have enough space?"

I prop a hand on my hip. "Look at you, all concerned about my cat."

He scratches his forehead, his expression still worried. "Well? Will she?"

"Given that she currently lives in a 250-square-foot studio apartment, I'm thinking she'll do just fine with an entire mansion wing," I reply.

"Fine. Just make sure she doesn't chew on things, or pee, or scratch the furniture, and we're good."

I chuckle. "She's a cat, not a lion."

He gives me a sharp look.

"All right. I'll make sure she doesn't destroy your house."

"Great." He gives me a tight smile. "Now, can we please go back and sign that contract?"

With a nod, I follow him back to his home office, noticing with a blush that his route was a lot quicker than the one I took. I can't help but feel a tiny bit excited about exploring this house. I guess curiosity has always been one of my biggest flaws.

Once we sit down, I add the part about Truffles staying in my space and behaving to the list of rules. Then, I draft two other copies, and we both sign them. Finally, I sign the numerous pages of the main contract and give two copies back to Colton, shoving mine into my bag. "There you go."

"Thank you," he says, tapping the documents into a neat stack. "We are officially in business. Max will be in touch concerning our first public date. I think he's scheduled it for Friday. When would you be available to move in?"

I snort internally. Let's see. When do I want to leave my crappy apartment to come live in this giant mansion? Yesterday? But before I say anything, I remember I'm supposed to act professional. "Whenever is convenient for you."

"We were thinking about a month from now? Just so we're seen in public together beforehand, and it doesn't seem too quick."

"That works," I say with a nod.

"Do you have enough to cover rent until then? Otherwise, I can help you out."

My heart swells at his generous offer, but then I remember it's just a part of my salary, and he's my employer. "I do. You gave me more than necessary."

He swallows hard, glancing away. "Good. Well." He springs to his feet, clasping his hands. "I'll walk you out."

"Good plan. Otherwise, I'll end up taking the scenic route again," I say, following him out of the spacious room. "Do you have a map of this place?"

"Don't tell me you're the cliché girl who's directionally challenged?"

I roll my eyes at him, even though he's walking in front of me. "I'm not. This place just seems . . . endless."

"It's not that big, I promise," he says, turning to me with an earnest expression.

I can't contain the goofy laugh that bubbles out of me. "Thanks for letting me know."

He shakes his head slightly, but his face breaks into a genuine smile. What I see next catches me off guard. Colton Green hid them well, but his large grin betrays the two large dimples dotting his cheeks. And, if that weren't enough, I'm pretty sure his smile is his superpower. One second, he's all cold and brooding, and the next, it's like the entire world has just shifted under his radiant smile.

You know how the dementors in Harry Potter freeze up everything around them and make plants fade? Colton's smile has the opposite effect. It warms everything it touches, and I wouldn't be surprised if a bed of flowers sprouted up right here in the corridor. His grin sends my heart on a bungee jump, a feeling I both welcome and hate.

Catching my breath, I spin around and reach for the door handle. "We'll talk soon."

The shadow of his smile still crinkles the corners of his eyes. "See you."

And just like that, he closes the door behind me. I want to sit for a second to digest all this, maybe read the contract again. But I have to go. He's probably watching me from his security room, wondering what the hell I'm still doing on his front stoop.

Truffles trots up to greet me the moment I get home. After rubbing against my legs, she rolls on the floor so I can pet her. I pick her up and kiss her all over. I love how cats are always soft as a pillow and smell so nice. Well, she does now that I gave her a bath with the cat shampoo I got at the pet store. Garbage wasn't my favorite scent.

Once she's sucked up enough attention, she curls up in the little bed I got her. It's shaped like a banana, and I might have splurged a little because it was so cute. She looks so comfy snuggled up in the yellow cushion.

After eating a quick lunch, I rummage through my closet to find what I was looking for—my old duffel bag. It's dark blue with stains of God-knows-what and a fair number of holes. One of the straps is missing, and the zipper doesn't close anymore. I haven't seen it since I first set foot in this studio five years ago, having shoved it under a pile of clothes. My breath catches in my throat as I open the top, and I shiver at the memory of when I last used it.

It's over, Jane. You got out, I remind myself.

Shaking the dark memories away, I pick up my clothes and start packing. But soon enough, the bag is bursting at the seams. I didn't have much when I came here, but it looks like I bought more stuff than I realized. I'm going to need another bag.

Grabbing my keys, I walk down to the dollar store a few blocks away to purchase some moving boxes. On the way back, I pass in front of the cybercafé, and curiosity gets the best of me. After ordering a cappuccino, I sit down at a computer and open the search engine. I type "Colton Green Love Connected" and wait for the results to load. If I'm going to be this guy's housemate, I need some background information. Sure, we have a contract, but it doesn't reveal much about the man I'm going to marry. And he doesn't seem to be the sharing type. Luckily, even a recluse can't escape the investigative power of the Internet.