Chapter 16: Chapter 16

JAMIE

Mason turned the key in the lock of the penthouse suite, the satisfying click reverberating off the marble hallway. He pushed the door open and rolled my wheelchair inside.

Penelope, a bundle of energy, didn’t waste a second before she darted past us, her tiny footsteps tapping a joyful rhythm on the hardwood floor. Her wide, inquisitive eyes scanned the room, soaking in every detail.

I was told this was her first time in a hotel, so everything was new and exciting.

“Wow!” she exclaimed, her voice bouncing off the walls of the spacious living area. “It’s so big.”

Mason chuckled, a warm, rich sound that echoed the laughter bubbling up in my own chest. “Someone’s definitely excited,” he said.

“Maybe it has something to do with the sugar-glazed doughnut you insisted on getting her at the bakery,” I teased, a playful smile pulling at my lips.

“Well…,” he drawled, pretending to be innocent. “We can’t deny her a little sugar rush every now and then. Plus, she’ll be out like a light from a sugar crash soon enough, giving us some peace and quiet.”

His words held a suggestive undertone, a silent promise of stolen moments once Penelope was down for her nap. She’d need one for the night ahead.

The penthouse suite was the epitome of luxury, like something straight out of a magazine. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a stunning view of the city, a dazzling display of light and sunshine. The sky was cloudless.

The crisp white interior was softened by plush, jewel-toned furniture and the artwork that decorated the walls. The living room was the centerpiece of the suite, featuring a plush U-shaped sofa that invited relaxation, a sleek entertainment center with the latest technology, and a bar area stocked with every type of liquor you could imagine.

Several doors led off from the living area, presumably to bedrooms, bathrooms, or a private study.

“This is amazing, Mason. I hope it didn’t cost you too much?” I asked, a little nervously.

Our home in New York City was ridiculously large, with five bedrooms and a sprawling flower garden. It was a far cry from the cozy family home where I grew up, sharing a bathroom with my boisterous older brother.

Traveling on a private jet, staying in fancy hotels, not worrying about money—it was all still new to me. This was Mason’s world, and I guessed it was mine now too.

Mason chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Just an arm and a leg,” he joked. “You do remember that I’m a billionaire, right, Jamie? Don’t worry about money. We’re good.”

Don’t worry about money… The words came easily to him. I’d always been independent, sometimes scraping together pennies for a night out with friends. But that was before I started working at Knight & Son.

Things were different now… Financial worries were a thing of the past. Sure, part of me missed having a job, being independent, contributing in some way. But for now, my focus was on recovery—both physical and emotional. And that included rebuilding my relationship with Mason and Penelope.

I laughed softly. “All right, Mr. Billionaire,” I replied, a teasing smile on my lips. “Just don’t start throwing money around like it’s confetti. I don’t need grand things to make me happy, just so you know.”

His eyes met mine, a warmth radiating from them that sent a familiar flutter through my stomach. Mason leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver up my spine.

“You deserve grand things, Jamie.”

“Mr. Knight…,” Ezra interrupted, clearing his throat. “Your lunch order will be here soon.” He glanced down at Penelope, who was running circles around him.

“Thank you, Ezra,” Mason replied, scooping Penelope up and hoisting her over his shoulder, a move that always elicited squeals of delight.

Ezra nodded curtly and retreated to the front door, where he took up his post. Mason’s sudden decision to ramp up security had me puzzled. Ezra, our ever-watchful protector, was now a constant presence at our side.

And then there was Eric, the latest addition to our security team, who seemed to be Mason’s shadow, following him wherever he went. In the months I’ve spent living with Mason, I’ve come to understand his need for security.

But this sudden increase felt a bit much, even for him. What could have triggered this sudden change?

A professional makeup artist and hairstylist had come and gone, leaving Penelope and me looking picture-perfect. Penelope was initially excited about the idea of getting pampered alongside me, but her interest quickly waned.

Nevertheless, we managed to style her brunette hair into a braid that crossed the front of her head, with loose curls cascading down her back. Tiny pink flowers were tucked into her braid, giving her a look fit for a princess.

I had dressed Penelope in the cutest outfit—a pink dress adorned with flowers, shimmering white tights that caught the light, and tiny pink pumps that sparkled with jewels. She looked absolutely precious.

A soft knock echoed from the bedroom door, a door that Mason hadn’t entered since we started getting ready.

“Jamie, are you ready to go?” Mason’s voice echoed from the other side, tinged with worry.

I knew why he was worried—I had told him I’d be ready half an hour ago.

“Um, no,” I stuttered from my spot on the massive queen-sized bed. “I’m going to follow you two down, if that’s okay. I just need a bit more time.”

There was a moment of silence. Then, “Are you sure?” His question was gentle yet filled with concern.

“If you need help with anything…” He trailed off, as if he wasn’t sure how to continue.

“No… I’m okay. Thank you, though.” My eyes flicked to the bold red dress hanging on the bathroom door. It was a daring choice. Sure, I could use some help getting into it, maybe with the zipper.

But I wanted to face this challenge alone. I didn’t want him to see me until my look was complete.

“All right…” His voice echoed. “Ezra will be waiting by the door when you’re ready. Penelope and I will see you down there. Don’t take too long.”

The sound of his retreating footsteps, Penelope’s giggles, and finally the front door opening and closing brought me a sense of relief. It took me twenty minutes to wrangle the dress onto my body.

Underneath, I wore a new lingerie set I had treated myself to the day before. Stilettos were out of the question—I already had enough trouble walking. I didn’t need to add heels to the equation.

Instead, I opted for a pair of sling-back flats that added elegance to my look without compromising my ability to walk.

As I reached for the cane at the foot of the bed, a wave of frustration washed over me. I hadn’t wanted to use it, only sometimes, but tonight I wanted to enjoy the event without my wheelchair.

Taking a deep breath, I used the cane to help myself stand. I shuffled toward the floor-length mirror, my reflection immediately taking my breath away.

The dress, a stunning shade of crimson, hugged my body in all the right places before flowing down in waves that skimmed the floor. You couldn’t even tell I wasn’t wearing heels.

My shoulder-length blonde hair, highlighted and expertly curled, framed my face. The makeup was a work of art—smoky eyes, flawless skin, and a bold swipe of blood-red lipstick.

Despite the unfamiliar strength radiating from my reflection, a pang of sadness tugged at my heart. Sometimes I miss the old Jamie, the woman who could do things and go places on her own.

I hope I can find her again someday!

Finally, with a deep breath, I pushed open the bedroom door, the red dress swishing dramatically behind me. Ezra, stationed by the front door like a silent guardian, snapped to attention when he heard me.

Relief flickered across his stoic features, quickly replaced by surprise as he took in my appearance.

“Are you ready to go, miss?” he asked in a low rumble.

“I’m ready,” I replied, my voice stronger than I had expected it to be.

I noticed his eyes dart to the walking cane. I met his gaze, holding it steady. “I won’t be needing my chair tonight.”

He gave me a quiet nod, a silent promise to be there if I needed support. “All right, let’s get you downstairs.”

The red dress swirled around me as I stepped into the event room, Ezra a quiet guardian at my side. The room was alive with the hum of pre-event excitement, a stark contrast to the tranquility of my hotel suite just moments ago.

Tables were scattered around, dressed in pristine white linens and gleaming silverware, awaiting their guests. People were arriving in waves, their low chatter punctuated by occasional laughter.

Some guests, already seated, turned to stare as I made my entrance, their whispers washing over me. Waitstaff moved effortlessly through the crowd, carrying silver trays loaded with champagne flutes and delicate appetizers.

My stomach grumbled, but I brushed it off. ~Food can wait, Jamie!~

Across the room, a stage was buzzing with activity as technicians prepared for the evening’s fundraiser. To my left, tall white doors led to a private garden, a haven for anyone seeking a quiet conversation.

I didn’t plan on escaping, but it might be necessary if things got too loud. I scanned the room, looking for Mason and Penelope.

Then, a flash of pink in the distance caught my attention. Penelope, looking lovely in a little pink dress, was seated between Barbara and Sid, a broad smile on her face.

And then I saw him… Mason. He stood out in the crowd. I hadn’t seen him dressed before he left the hotel suite, so this was my first glimpse of him in a tuxedo.

It was black and flawlessly tailored to his broad frame. His dark hair was styled perfectly, although I had a soft spot for his tousled look.

He was engaged in conversation with a group of men. His hazel eyes met mine from across the room. A hint of surprise flashed across his face, quickly replaced by a smile that reached his eyes.

Mason quickly excused himself from the group with a quiet apology. My heart began to race.

With each step he took toward me, his gaze took in every detail of my red dress, my hair, and my bold makeup. A slow warmth spread through my chest.

Finally, he was in front of me, the scent of his cologne, a comforting blend of wood and spice, enveloping me. He paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on my face before he spoke.

Mason leaned in, his warm breath tickling my ear as he spoke. “Wow, Jamie,” he murmured. “You look incredible.”

His hand on my waist tightened slightly, a silent question in his touch. The feel of his body against mine was comforting, solid and warm.

“So, you like the dress?” I asked playfully, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.

A slow smile spread across his face, a genuine warmth that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I didn’t think it was possible…,” he confessed, his voice a low rumble that sent a chill down my spine. “But it’s even more stunning than the first time you tried it on.”

His words were a soothing balm to my nerves. The unfamiliar setting seemed a little less intimidating with Mason by my side.

I smirked a little. “Mission accomplished then,” I replied. “Though, I must say,” I continued, letting my gaze drop to take in the lines of his tuxedo. “I’m liking this James Bond look on you.”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, a sound as comforting as his cologne. “Is that so?” he murmured, and I nodded in response.

“Perhaps that’s the effect I was going for. To distract a beautiful woman from any pre-event jitters.”

“Consider me thoroughly distracted,” I replied.