Chapter 2 - The Rules of the House
Emma quickly learned the rules of Danny Hale’s mansion.
Never use the elevator after midnight.
Never ask about the locked west wing.
Never mention the shooting.
And never pity Danny.
That last rule was unnecessary. Emma did not pity him.
One morning, she found him struggling to move from his wheelchair to the sofa.
“Do you need help?” she asked.
“No.”
He tried again.
His arms shook. His jaw tightened.
Emma placed the laundry basket down. “You’re about to fall.”
“I said no.”
“Fine.”
She stepped back.
Danny glared at her. “You’re leaving?”
“You said you didn’t need help.”
His hand slipped from the armrest.
Emma moved instantly, catching his shoulder before he hit the floor.
For a second, his entire weight leaned against her.
“Let go,” he snapped.
“I will when you’re safe.”
“I don’t need saving.”
“Then stop making it look so necessary.”
She helped him back into the chair.
Danny’s face burned with humiliation.
“You could have called one of the guards.”
“You would have hated that more.”
He looked at her.
She was right.
Emma picked up the laundry basket. “You should eat something.”
“Are you my maid or my doctor?”
“Tonight? Apparently both.”
For the first time in two years, Danny laughed.
It was quiet and rough, as if the sound had been trapped inside him.
May you like
Emma pretended not to notice.
But Danny noticed her pretending.
