CHAPTER TWO

Sarah knew he wanted her to leave. It was written all over his face, in the tension of his shoulders. The offer was only temporary, and so was the room. Her pride was screaming at her to say no. But what other choices did she have? He was giving her not only a job, but also a warm place to sleep at night.

While she thought it over, she asked, “Aren’t all of your rooms booked? Because of the convention?”

He swung back and stared at her. “Some of the guests are checking out. Or you can stay in the housekeeping storage room if you want. There are rollaway beds.”

That made more sense, and she nodded. “I would be grateful for a few days more. But please don’t tell anyone I’m here. If Ben calls, let him believe that I checked out.” It would buy her a little more time, until she figured out where to go next.

“Was he the one who hit you?”

Sarah didn’t want to admit the truth, but there was no point in trying to deny it. “It was my fault for making Ben angry. I should have kept my mouth shut.” She pushed back the memory, reminding herself that it was over now. Even so, it was harder to push back the fear. A part of her wished that he hadn’t hit her. She could have forgiven him for angry words. She could have blotted them out, choosing to remember the good moments in their marriage instead. It hurt to realize that there was no turning back—he wasn’t the man she’d thought he was.

Her heart ached with denial. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined that the handsome, charming man she’d married would become someone else. But when they were alone, the mask had come off, and Ben had started reshaping her into the wife he thought he deserved. She’d tried so hard to please him, telling herself that his demands were only meant to help her fit into his life.

Now, she no longer knew who she was. A shell of a woman, erased by a man who wanted her to become someone else. It took every last bit of strength left within her to face Alec and admit she needed help.

When she met his gaze, she saw bridled fury in it. “It wasn’t your fault. No man should ever hit a woman. There’s no excuse.”

She couldn’t answer him. Although a part of her knew he was right, he didn’t understand that she had lived with Ben’s behavior for so long, she was used to it.

“I know,” she said, because it was the expected answer. But it was hard to believe it.

In the past, after Ben had yelled at her, he would apologize and bring her flowers, promising never to do it again. “It’s just that you’re better than this,” he would say to her. “I look at you and see how beautiful you are. How perfect. I don’t want you to ever be less than you should be.”

She had been a possession to him, not a person. When they’d married in secret, he hadn’t wanted her to take his last name. At the time, she hadn’t protested, for what did it matter? Now, she wondered if he’d wanted to distance himself from her.

The thought of going home made her stomach twist with nausea. Sarah took a hesitant step backwards and then said, “Where should I wait for Mr. Green? I can’t stay here in the lobby or Ben might find me.”

“You can wait in the office behind the desk,” Alec suggested. “If you keep the door closed, no one will see you. But even if he does know that you’re here, you don’t have to leave with him. I have my own security.”

His offer made Sarah feel slightly better. She was starting to think that Alec was the general manager of the hotel. He had the air of superiority, as if everything was within his command. But it wasn’t threatening—instead, it made her feel protected.

“Thank you,” she said. Her nerves were still twisting within her, but at least she had a place to stay for another night or two. The promise of a job gave her the chance to earn a little money. Even the smallest amount would help.

She was grateful that breakfast was included for all guests, and she’d eaten as much as she could this morning. That way, she could ignore lunch and wait until dinner tonight to save even more money.

Alec opened the door to the office behind the front desk, and Sarah went inside. She chose a seat across from the desk but decided to leave the door slightly cracked. It made it possible to stay out of view but still see who was arriving.

A moment later, a well-dressed man carrying a briefcase strode behind the front desk. His black hair was shaved close, and his skin was a rich brown. “Mr. Harrow,” the man greeted Alec, shaking his hand. “It’s always a pleasure to have you visit our property.”

Harrow? No wonder Alec hadn’t given his last name. Alec Harrow wasn’t the general manager of the hotel—he was the billionaire owner of Harrow Suites. His hotels spanned the east coast, and he also owned properties overseas.

Oh God. She’d escaped one wealthy powerful man, only to run into another one. Her gut clenched, though she knew the fear was irrational. Alec had done nothing at all except offer her a safe haven. But she wasn’t used to men being nice without wanting something in return. She gripped her hands together, trying to center herself and push back the fear.

“Dawson.” Alec greeted the man with a handshake. “It’s good to see you.”

“How long will you be staying with us, Mr. Harrow?” Although the words were spoken with a pleasant tone, Sarah understood that it was a subtle way of inquiring why Alec had come.

“Another day or two,” he answered. At that, Alec closed the door and lowered his voice, making it impossible for her to eavesdrop on their conversation.

She stayed hidden for the next few minutes, awaiting her fate. Her heart was pounding, and even the scent of fresh coffee made her stomach churn. She hated not being in command of her life. Sitting in an office, waiting on other men to make decisions about a job or shelter, made her feel utterly helpless. And she loathed that feeling. She promised herself that once she earned a little money, she would find a way to support herself.

The door to the office opened, and both men approached her. Sarah gripped her hands together, not knowing what to expect.

“Ms. Walsh, this is Dawson Green, general manager of the hotel.”

Sarah wished she were wearing more appropriate clothes than the raggedy sweatshirt and jeans, but she managed a nod. “Hello.”

“I was telling Ms. Walsh that she could stay here for a few days and fill in for any of our housekeepers who want time off.”

Mr. Green smiled warmly. “We would be glad of the extra help. I’ve called Jasmine and she’ll bring you a housekeeping uniform to wear.”

She didn’t know what else Alec had said to him, but there was no trace of pity or annoyance on the general manager’s face. He didn’t ask why she needed a place to stay, nor did his gaze linger on the bruise upon her cheek. The kindly smile on his face threatened to break apart her fragile emotions. “Thank you.”

Alec held out his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Walsh. I wish you well.” She shook his hand, and he held it for a moment before releasing her fingers. The warmth lingered upon her palm, and she pushed back the wellspring of emotion. She had learned her lesson about getting involved with wealthy, powerful men, even if his actions were only meant in sympathy.

Though Alec’s tone was formal, completely devoid of any personal involvement, there was still no denying that he had given up his room for her. His actions went above and beyond charity. He had given her a way of keeping her pride, and even if that meant scrubbing toilets, she would do whatever was necessary.

Mr. Green guided her away from the front desk and toward the housekeeping staff room. Before he opened it, he stopped. “I wouldn’t share anything about your living arrangements with other staff members,” he said. “Mr. Harrow arranged for a complimentary room as a courtesy, but he’s never done that for any other employee. Keep it to yourself.”

She nodded and promised she would. Then the manager opened the door and introduced her to a woman named Jasmine. Jasmine was in her mid-thirties with a sturdy build and a riot of black and red curls crammed into a bun. She eyed Sarah as if she didn’t think she’d ever cleaned a room in her life.

“This is Sarah,” Mr. Green told Jasmine. “I want you to find a uniform for her and train her. She’ll be helping out, doing some temp work.” He added, “If you or Maria want some time off for the holidays, make sure Sarah knows what she’s doing first.”

The wary expression on Jasmine’s face didn’t change, but she nodded. “Yes, sir.”

As soon as he’d gone, Jasmine eyed her. “You ever cleaned rooms before?”

Sarah met her gaze evenly. “I cleaned my apartment every day before I was married. Just show me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

Jasmine glanced at her cheek. “Did your husband give you that?”

She nodded. There was no point in trying to pretend otherwise. “It’s why I’m here. I left him.”

At that, the woman’s eyes softened with sympathy. “Been there myself.” With a sigh, she said, “Let’s get you a uniform.”

Alec already knew this was a bad idea, letting her stay. One wrong move, and everything would unravel. But when she’d said it was her fault that Carnell had struck her, it was like hearing the echoes of his past. He’d tried not to interfere the last time, but his mother Eva had paid the price. There was no neutral ground in this. He couldn’t stand back, no matter how hard he wanted to stay out of Sarah Walsh’s private battle. All he could do was offer her the means of fighting back.

When he’d given her a job this morning, hope had blazed in her eyes, and it had softened a dormant part of his heart. It was impossible to ignore his instincts to rescue a woman in trouble. But he was treading on the edge of something else, a greater threat to his business, if he didn’t close himself off.

A black sedan pulled up to the curb and his instincts went on alert. He immediately recognized Ben Carnell striding across the salted sidewalk. He wore a woolen overcoat, leather gloves, and a tweed flat cap. A flare of anger caught Alec when he saw the man walk inside, but he masked it. There was a look of self-importance on Carnell’s face as he approached the front desk.

Alec remained in his office with the door cracked. Jasmine should have taken Sarah up to the third floor. There was no reason they should return to the lobby, but even so, he remained wary.

Dawson greeted the man at the front desk, and Alec overheard him say, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Carnell, but your wife left a few hours ago. We called her a cab.”

“And where, exactly, did she go?” Carnell kept his voice pleasant, but there was an undertone of fury beneath it.

“I have no idea. I’m sorry.” Dawson waited for him to leave, but Carnell didn’t move.

Instead he said, “I want to speak with your general manager.”

“I am the general manager,” Dawson replied. “Is there something else I can help you with?”

The annoyance deepened on Carnell’s face, though he kept a thin smile. “I want to talk with Harrow. He should be here since we have a meeting this week.”

“I will see if he’s available,” Dawson answered. He knocked upon the door, though it was still cracked open.

“Come in.” As soon as Dawson opened the door, Alec added, “Close the door behind you.”

His general manager obeyed, and Alec said in a low voice, “I want you to page Housekeeping and make sure Sarah doesn’t come downstairs under any circumstances.” He met Dawson’s gaze, and understanding passed between them. This was a fragile situation, one that could erupt in his face and threaten his hotel chain if he didn’t handle it properly.

He stood from the desk and opened the door, striding toward the front desk. He faced Carnell and greeted him. “Hello, Ben. I thought our meeting was scheduled for Friday. But if you’d like, I can arrange for us to have coffee in the restaurant, and we can discuss our business now.”

“I’m not here about the hotel contract,” Carnell said in a clipped tone. “My wife went missing, and she checked into this hotel last night.”

He had to be careful in the way he chose his words. “Did she? I wasn’t aware.”

Dawson met his gaze in a silent alliance. “I was telling Mr. Carnell that she checked out of the hotel hours ago. She took a cab and left.”

“I want to see your security footage,” Carnell insisted. He had a look of rage on his face, as if someone had stolen his prized possession, like a dog had run away, instead of a wife.

Alec’s resolve tightened, though he kept his expression impassive. He wasn’t about to endanger Sarah by revealing her whereabouts.

“It may be best to let the police handle a domestic dispute,” he said. “I’d be happy to call them on your behalf.”

The irritation only heightened on Carnell’s face. “No. Not yet. But if she returns…”

“I’ll call,” Alec said. Though he had no intention of doing so whatsoever. He looked the man in the eye and said, “I’ll see you on Friday at our meeting.”

Carnell straightened and met his gaze. “Until Friday.”

There was something mind-numbing about cleaning. After ten hours of scrubbing bathtubs, vacuuming, and dusting, Sarah was exhausted and ready to drop. She had scrounged up lunch by taking an apple from the breakfast lounge, but her stomach was roaring for food now. Jasmine had already clocked out, and Sarah sat down for a moment, trying to decide what to do. All her money was in their joint bank account, and she had no means of touching it. She cursed herself that she’d left her ATM card and driver’s license behind. Fear was a powerful motivation for leaving, but it had left her reeling, unable to think clearly. With no phone, no money, and no identification, she had cornered herself. If only she could send someone to get them, it would help.

The phone rang, and she answered. “Housekeeping, may I help you?”

“This is Dawson Green. Is this Sarah?”

“Yes, it is.” The familiar twist of fear caught in her stomach. She had finished her work for the day, but now she wondered if there was a problem.

“Mr. Harrow has asked to meet with you. Could you come down to the front desk, please?”

“I’ll be right there.”

But the familiar nerves gathered within her, snowballing into the fear of being forced to leave. She knew she couldn’t stay here for very long. It wasn’t possible. And yet, her terror of the unknown stretched out before her. Although Mr. Green had warned her not to come downstairs when Ben had arrived, she couldn’t hide indefinitely. She had no doubt that her husband would find her. What then?

She took the elevator downstairs and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror behind her. Jasmine had given her the gray housekeeping uniform, and the outfit sagged on her, though Sarah had cinched the waist with the white sash.

The elevator doors opened, and she glanced around before she approached the front desk. Mr. Green was waiting for her, and he held a manila envelope in one hand. “Mr. Harrow asked me to give you this. Then he wants to meet with you in Barnaby’s at 7:00.”

Barnaby’s was the hotel’s upscale restaurant. Why would he want to meet with her there? She was about to ask, but her stomach reminded her that the meeting would likely involve free food. And that wasn’t something to be ignored. Given the choice between a meal and vending machine snacks, it was really the only option. She took the envelope, uncertain of what it was.

She went to sit down in the lobby lounge, choosing the chair farthest away from the front door. When she opened the manila envelope, she saw a room key card, a hundred dollars in cash, and a note.

Enclosed is your salary for today’s work, along with a room where you can stay. I saw your husband this morning. We need to talk.

Her heart froze at the news, though she should have been expecting this. No doubt Alec—no, she should call him Mr. Harrow—would ask her to leave soon. This couldn’t go on for very long…but then, she refused to think of that now. She could only handle one day at a time. And for tonight, a hot shower would feel amazing after the day’s work. Over a hundred guests had checked out of the hotel, so there were plenty of spare rooms now that the convention was over.

She was torn between her desire to see the room and wondering what he wanted from her. Her suspicions darkened, but she returned to the elevator and pressed the button for the fourth floor. It wasn’t the same room she’d stayed in the night before, and she didn’t know what to expect.

When she walked down the hallway, she found room 412 and inserted the key card into the lock. It opened, and she entered the darkened room with a king-sized bed. She flipped on the light switch and saw a large square box on the bed. Was that supposed to be there? Or had they accidentally given her the wrong room?

She found a tag with her name on the box, so that answered her question. Inside the box was a pair of black trousers and a peacock blue silk long-sleeved blouse, along with a pair of black leather heels. There was also a gift card to Chatham’s department store on Fifth Avenue with a phone number to call for a delivery of any necessary undergarments.

A tightness clutched her gut from deep inside, and it reminded her of all the clothes Ben had chosen for her. There were endless rules about what to wear and when. If she dared to choose something the stylist hadn’t already selected, her husband had sent her upstairs like a wayward teenager. When she had asked why she couldn’t attend parties or galas with him, the answer was always the same—I want to keep you all to myself and enjoy our privacy. If the media finds out about our marriage, you’ll never have any freedom again.

But those two years of marriage had been little more than a prison. She’d felt like a doll, dressed up and put away in the house, waiting for someone to take her out.

Anger gathered within her, and she shoved the box off the bed, feeling the rise of hot tears. No. She would not wear the clothes selected for her. She would not become another man’s puppet.

Her stomach growled again, but she pushed back the hunger. Right now, she wanted a hot shower, and then she would confront Alec Harrow. Though maybe he believed he was helping her by giving her clothes, she could never accept such a gift.

Alec was surprised when Sarah arrived at Barnaby’s wearing the housekeeping uniform. He stood up from the table and gestured for her to sit, but there was no mistaking the tension in her expression.

“Thank you for joining me,” he said.

She did sit across from him, but she looked as if she were choosing her words carefully. “You said Ben came to the hotel this morning.”

“He did.” Alec tried to keep all emotions from his face, though he couldn’t quite ignore the surge of anger at the thought of Ben Carnell. It brought back memories of his father’s abusive behavior.

“Did you tell him I was here?” There was a note of fear in Sarah’s voice, and her gaze drifted downward.

He shook his head. “Dawson and I told him you checked out of the hotel and took a cab. You should be safe for another night or two.”

She reached for a pencil-thin breadstick, and he noted the slight tremor in her fingers. “Thank you.” Despite the words, her eyes held a fear so deep, it made him uneasy. “Was there anything else you wanted to see me about?”

“There is.” He kept his voice neutral, recognizing her fear. “Jasmine told me you didn’t have lunch, and I thought we could talk over dinner.”

“Do you always invite your housekeepers to dinner?”

“No,” he answered honestly. There was no mistaking the wariness in her voice. And normally, he wouldn’t place an employee in this position. He didn’t want her to feel obligated or threatened in any way. However, in this case, her very presence could threaten the business deal.

“But your circumstances are different than everyone else,” he continued. “You are running from abuse, aren’t you?”

She took a sip from her water glass and reached for a second breadstick, studying it as she chose her words. “I’m grateful for the job and for a place to stay. But while I appreciate the gesture, I can’t let you choose clothes for me.”

He reached for his own glass. It wasn’t meant to be inappropriate, but he understood why she would think that. He’d asked Cora to pick out some clothes and have them delivered to Sarah’s room. At the time, he’d only been thinking of necessities, but his front desk clerk adored shopping and was only too glad to spend his money. “You have nothing else of your own.”

“I have my sweatshirt and jeans. Or I can take the money I earned today and buy something from a thrift store. If you don’t buy clothes for Jasmine or any of the other housekeepers, you shouldn’t do it for me.”

He understood her annoyance, but everything about this situation was different. “Jasmine isn’t married to Ben Carnell, one of the most powerful businessmen in New York.”

Her face remained shielded, and she snapped the breadstick in half. “How well do you know Ben?”

“Our paths have crossed a time or two,” he hedged. It wasn’t a good idea to reveal too much about his impending business relationship—especially given the circumstances. “But I’ll admit, I’m surprised that I never saw you with him.” He had seen the man out with several other women, however, a fact that he wouldn’t disclose. She’d endured enough.

“Ben wanted to protect our privacy.” She took a sip of water and then met his gaze. “I appreciate your help, Mr. Harrow. But I can take care of myself and buy my own clothes.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be here now.” The words weren’t kind, but they were true. He wanted to help her, but he couldn’t do it unless she set aside her pride.

She took a sip of water, but her face was as pale as the cloth napkin. “I don’t understand why you’re helping me. This isn’t your fight.”

Alec debated what to tell her. He couldn’t reveal that he was involved in business dealings with her husband or she would only think he was using her. In her eyes, he saw the broken fear that mirrored his own past. He knew what she was feeling. The helplessness. The sense that every decision was the wrong one. And the inherent doubts that overshadowed everything else.

Instead, he gave her abbreviated version of the truth. “I knew someone who suffered, just as you have. And I couldn’t save her.”

At that, she raised her eyes to his. He didn’t bother hiding any of the pain he’d felt, and for a moment, there was a connection between them. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, but she gathered her strength, and murmured, “So you’re trying to save me, instead.”

“I’m only doing what I wish someone had done for her. If you don’t want the clothes, don’t take them.” He finished by saying, “If you don’t want the job, you can leave at any time. It’s your choice.”

One of the waiters saved Sarah from answering by telling them about the evening’s specials. Alec ordered a bottle of Prosecco and an appetizer of assorted cheeses and olives. Sarah ordered iced tea and a Caesar salad. When the drinks arrived, she studied him again and said, “I apologize if I misinterpreted your generosity. But you must understand how it seemed.”

“It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable. I only thought you might need more clothes to wear, since you arrived with nothing. If you want to send them back and exchange them for something else, go ahead.”

She eyed him with open suspicion but said nothing. “I’m thankful for the gesture. But… I don’t want you to get the wrong impression about me.” She took a sip of the iced tea, as if steeling herself. “I’m a married woman.”

Did she really think he was expecting her to offer herself in exchange for the charity he’d given? The idea was appalling. “I would never ask that of you or any other employee. Besides that, I’m leaving for France in a few days. We won’t see each other again.”

She visibly relaxed at his admission. For a long moment, she seemed to be thinking about what to do. “I am grateful for your help in avoiding Ben.”

He gave a nod, uncertain of what to say. An awkward silence stretched between them before she finally said, “Would you excuse me for a moment? When the waiter returns, you can tell him that I’ll have the filet mignon in Béarnaise sauce, cooked medium.” Without waiting for him to answer, she stood and pushed her chair in, departing the restaurant. He wasn’t certain why she’d left, but when the waiter returned with the appetizer, he gave her order, as well as his own.

Sarah returned in fifteen minutes, this time wearing the black trousers and the blue silk blouse. She’d pulled her hair out of the ponytail and the blond strands had a natural wave as they tumbled across her shoulders. Despite the bruise on her cheek, she had her own inner strength that he admired. Sarah Walsh was a survivor.

Her salad was waiting for her, and she smiled as she sat down. “The clothes fit. I’ll pay you back for them, once I get my finances sorted.”

He had no intention of taking her money, but a nod was the easiest response. He raised his glass of Prosecco in a toast. “To freedom.”

Sarah echoed the toast and clinked his glass. After she took a small sip, she began eating the salad, savoring each bite. With a rueful smile, she added, “It’s better than the potato chips and candy bar I was planning to eat.”

Her ability to maintain a sense of humor amid this crisis was admirable. If she weren’t already uncomfortable with his earlier gesture, not to mention married, he might have told her that she looked beautiful. But he wouldn’t cross that line. Instead, he wanted her to have a decent meal, clothes to wear, and a chance to feel safe.

“The clothes suit you.” He saw the moment her expression faltered, as if she believed he was hitting on her. To counteract it, he said, “I hope today wasn’t too difficult for you.”

She shook her head. “Jasmine was very helpful. And it was good to be busy…to keep my mind off the situation.”

“Do you want me to call a women’s shelter for you?” he offered. “Or you may also consult with my attorney, if you like.”

She toyed with her salad a moment and then set the fork down. “I appreciate all that you’ve done for me, Mr. Harrow. But I know I’ll have to face Ben sooner or later. I’d rather wait until later.”

Their entrees arrived, and for a time, they spoke of mindless topics. He learned that she had a degree in interior design, but she’d never had the chance to use it. “Ben cancelled my interviews,” she admitted. “He didn’t want me to work.”

“And you’ve lived here ever since your marriage?” he asked. When she nodded, he asked, “Did he ever take you out to L.A.?” Most of Ben’s business dealings were based out of California.

“No, he never did. He flies out there often.” Her expression softened. “It was always more peaceful when he was gone. I felt like I could breathe again.” She sliced a piece off her meat and added, “I never thought when I married him that it would be like this.”

“Do you have any family nearby?”

She shook her head. “My brother lives in Florida, but we haven’t spoken in years. My mother died of cancer, and my father died in a car accident when I was ten.” With a shrug, she said, “So it’s just me, myself, and I.”

“Don’t you have friends in the city?”

“I had friends back home, but I didn’t know anyone here. I went to a small college in the Midwest, and I met Ben there a few months before I graduated. He had some business in Columbus, and we dated while he was in town.” She finished her glass of Prosecco. “He claimed he wanted to spend all his time with me, since he was only there for a month. We had a whirlwind romance, I guess you could say. I could tell he didn’t like it when I went out with friends. After a while, I stopped going. And they stopped asking when I kept saying no.”

She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, as if she were used to the isolation. “It’s all right, Mr. Harrow. I’ll save the money I earn in these few days, and I’ll go to a homeless shelter if I have to.”

A part of him knew that if he let her walk out and Ben found out about it, his business deal would burn into ashes. But if he picked up the phone and told Ben Carnell where she was, Harrow Suites would have millions of dollars in profits for the next three years.

All he had to do was throw an innocent woman back into the arms of an abuser. And God help him, he knew he could never do it.