Filthy Promises: Chapter 10

Mom’s hospital room always smells the same.

Antiseptic. Stale air. The faint, lingering scent of whatever sad cafeteria food they brought her for lunch.

And flowers. Always flowers, because I can’t visit without bringing some. Today, it’s yellow daisies, cheap but cheerful. Mom loves daisies.

“There’s my girl!” Her face lights up when I walk in. Despite everything, she still has the brightest smile I’ve ever seen. “Two visits in one week? What did I do to deserve such special treatment?”

I lean down to kiss her forehead. “Just missed your face, that’s all.”

She looks better today. Her color is good, and she’s sitting up in bed. The doctors say the new treatment is working, slowing the cancer’s spread. Not eliminating it, but buying time.

Time costs money, though. A lot of it.

“Tell me everything,” she orders playfully, patting the edge of her bed. “How’s work? How’s that handsome boss of yours?”

I nearly choke.

If Mom only knew.

“Actually, that’s sort of why I’m here.” I perch on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the sleeves of my sweater. “I got a promotion.”

Her eyes widen. “Really? That’s wonderful, honey! What position?”

“Executive assistant.” I can’t keep the fear or the pride out of my voice. “To Mr. Akopov.”

Mom’s eyebrows shoot up. “The one you’ve been mooning over for⁠—”

“Five years, yes, thank you for the reminder.” I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. “It happened kind of suddenly.”

“How suddenly?” Her eyes narrow suspiciously. Mom’s always been good at sniffing out my half-truths.

I hesitate, carefully piecing together a version of events that won’t give her a heart attack. “He noticed some of my marketing work and thought I’d be a good fit for the position.” Not technically a lie. “His previous assistant got transferred, so there was an opening.”

“And he just happened to pick you out of the whole company?”

She’s not buying it. Of course she’s not. Mom’s bullshit detector is finely tuned after raising me alone for twenty-seven years.

I shrug, aiming for casual. “Right place, right time, I guess.”

“Mhmm.” She gives me that look—the one that says she knows I’m not telling her everything. “And how much of a raise comes with this promotion?”

This part I can be honest about. “Triple my previous salary.”

Mom gasps. “Triple? Rowan, that’s amazing!”

“I know.” I can feel my eyes getting watery. “It means we can finally get ahead of some of these bills.”

She reaches for my hand, squeezing it with surprising strength. “Honey, you don’t need to worry about⁠—”

“Don’t even start,” I interrupt. “We’re a team, remember? Besides, I already paid off a chunk of the hospital debt this morning.”

It’s true. My first paycheck landed in my account at midnight—a prorated amount for the rest of the month that still dwarfed anything I’ve ever seen in my bank account before. I was at the hospital billing office the moment they opened. The look on the administrator’s face when I handed over a check for eight grand was almost worth all the sleepless nights I’ve spent worrying about money.

Almost.

“Rowan Elizabeth,” Mom scolds, though her voice is thick with emotion, “you should be using that money on yourself. A better apartment. New clothes. A vacation, for heaven’s sake.”

I shake my head. “This is more important.”

“Your happiness is important, too.”

“I’m happy knowing you’re getting the care you need.” I squeeze her hand back. “And now, we can afford that live-in nurse we talked about.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “You’re too good to me.”

“Pretty sure it’s the other way around.”

We sit in comfortable silence for a moment. This is how it’s always been—just the two of us against the world. If only my dad—whoever he is, wherever he is—knew what he was missing.

“So,” Mom says, wiping her eyes, “tell me about working for Mr. Gorgeous CEO. Is he as intimidating up close as he is on the front page?”

I laugh, but it comes out strained. “You have no idea.”

“Have you talked to him much? Besides work stuff?”

I think about last night’s disaster. Shipments… no witnesses…

“Not really,” I mumble. “He’s pretty… focused on business.”

“And is he single?” Mom’s eyes twinkle mischievously.

“Mom!”

“What? I’m just asking for a friend. That friend being me.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, he’s single. No, he’s not interested in me. Yes, there’s a waiting list of supermodels and heiresses lined up to change that. No, I’m not on the list.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, sweetie. You’re beautiful and smart and⁠—”

“And his employee.” I pat her hand. “Let’s not get carried away.”

She sighs dramatically. “Fine. But promise me you’ll wear something other than those baggy pantsuits to work.”

“I wore a green dress yesterday,” I admit.

Mom’s face lights up. “The emerald one? From Christmas?”

I nod.

“And? Did he notice?”

I think of Vince’s parting words. That dress suits you. Green is your color.

My cheeks flush. “Maybe.”

“Ha! I knew it.” She looks way too pleased with herself. “Men might be complicated, but they’re also simple creatures. Show a little effort and they notice.”

“Can we please talk about something else? Anything else?” I beg. “How’s your new roommate?”

Mom rolls her eyes. “She watches game shows at full volume until midnight. But her granddaughter brings homemade cookies, so I tolerate her.”

“Very generous of you.”

We chat for another hour about normal, safe topics. Her doctors. My apartment. The nurse who Mom swears is stealing her pudding cups.

Not once do I mention my growing suspicion that I’m working for the Russian mafia.

Not once do I tell her about the overheard call.

Not once do I confess that, despite all the red flags, despite all the danger signs, I still can’t stop thinking about how it felt when Vince’s eyes lingered on me in that green dress.

Some things mothers don’t need to know.

When visiting hours end, I promise to return in a few days. I kiss her cheek and hug her carefully, mindful of the IV lines.

“Row?” she calls as I reach the door.

“Yeah?”

“Be careful, okay?” Her expression is serious. “I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me about this job.”

My heart stutters. “Mom⁠—”

“You don’t have to tell me. But whatever it is, be careful. I need you in one piece.”

I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

“And if that handsome boss tries anything fresh,” she adds with a wink, “remember I taught you where to aim.”

I laugh despite myself. “Grab between the legs, twist, and run. I remember.”

“That’s my girl.”

I blow her one last kiss and step out into the hospital corridor, my smile fading as soon as I’m out of sight.

The weight of everything I’m not telling her sits heavy on my chest. But what choice do I have? This job is going to save Mom’s life. It’s going to lift us out of the financial quicksand we’ve been drowning in for years. All I have to do is keep my head down, do my job, and pretend I didn’t hear anything I shouldn’t have.

Simple, right?

As I head for the elevator, my phone buzzes with a text message. Need you at the office. Car waiting outside hospital. —VA

My stomach does a somersault. How does he know where I am?

I glance out the lobby windows, and sure enough, there’s a sleek black car idling at the curb.

My finger hovers over the screen as I consider my options. I could ignore it. Go home. Pretend I never saw the message.

But Mom’s medical bills aren’t going to pay themselves. And if I’m being honest, there’s another reason I can’t ignore that text.

I want to see him again.

I take a deep breath and type my response. On my way, sir.

It’s a deal with the devil, indeed.

But at least this devil has blue eyes that make my knees weak, a smile that turns my insides to jelly, and a paycheck that might actually save my mother’s life.

As far as bargains go, I’ve made worse.

I square my shoulders and head for the waiting car. Whatever happens next, I’m walking into it with my eyes wide open.

Well, as wide open as they can be while I’m deliberately ignoring all the warning signs, anyway.

That’s kind of the same thing, right?