Precious Gems - Sierra Hill Page 0,26
happened? It sounds like you enjoyed your job. Why did Roman transfer you?”
I slip out of my pajamas and step into a pair of shorts and a vintage concert T-shirt I’d brought with me, and I follow Serene out of the room and toward the staircase landing. As we hit the top step, she sighs.
“I don’t know, exactly. But one night, an important client tried to…well, he made advances on me that...”
She stops, placing a hand clutching her throat, her fingers curling around the banister to hold her up, obviously recalling something painful. I touch her forearm and feel the tremble of her fear.
“You’re okay now, Serene. Were you hurt?”
She nods. “I was taken to the hospital. When Roman found out, he was furious. And the next day, I was told I’d be working for Mr. Blake at his home as his personal assistant. And Roman avoids me now. Won’t look at me. I think he…”
We take the last step to the landing and I embrace her tightly. There’s something about Serene that I connect with. In another life, I know we’d be friends.
“Shh…I think he must care about you an awful lot if he moved you. He’s trying to protect you.”
As I look over her beautiful ebony skin, her dark hair swept behind her head and plaited in a complex braid flowing down the middle of her back, I now notice a scar that runs along the side of her neck, beginning at her throat where her hand just covered. She sees where my gaze has gone and turns away, shielding it protectively with a hand.
“He is ashamed of my appearance. My imperfection and that is why I no longer work there and can no longer model.”
Pushing through a glass door that opens up onto an expansive terrace overlooking a lush private garden below, surrounded by a fortified wall of stone, she offers with a wave for me to enter, as she remains at the door.
“I’ll leave you now. Enjoy your breakfast.” Serene dips her head, and I catch her eye as we exchange a shared glance.
Faron, Roman and West are all eating breakfast, the table filled with a lavish spread of sweet breads, coffee, fruit and platters of cheese. I notice the way Roman stares off over my shoulder, in the direction Serene has gone. His gaze reflects longing, certainly not shame that Serene believes he harbors.
But then I see Faron, whose stare penetrates me like a hot stoker right from the fire. It burns and sizzles every cell in my body. It eats me up like a wildfire on the rampage.
“We’ve been waiting for you. There’s business to discuss this morning.”
His tone is icy cold intonation, lacking any of the passion we shared last night. Now I wonder if it was a figment of my imagination because the warmth has disappeared, like it never even happened.
I take the seat offered to me, saying good morning to everyone. The only one who seems particularly generous in his greeting is Roman, who returns his attention immediately to eating the massive plate of food while West is distracted by his phone.
A member of the house staff pours my coffee, asking if there’s anything else I’d prefer to drink, ticking off several fresh squeezed juices to select from. I ask for a peach Bellini and begin to load my plate with a flaky croissant and some fruit.
Faron clears his throat to gain my attention, a serious inflection in his tone that has my nerves on end.
“Gemma, as you know, we've been trying to get in touch with your father to continue our negotiations, but he wasn’t returning any of our attempts to reconnect."
I fold a napkin over my lap, pinching my brows together as I stare down at my hands.
“Gemma, look at me.”
Slowly, I raise my head and see the hard lines of frustration in Faron’s inscrutable expression.
“Do you want me to call him?”
Faron’s lips purse together tightly, as if whatever he’s about to say is bitter.
Weston pipes in. “I don’t think that would do much good.”
My head snaps to him, a man I don’t know at all, but who clearly dislikes me. He’s been nothing but rude and contentious toward me since we met.
“Why not? I am his daughter, after all.” I say it with conviction, although I’m not convinced of it myself.
West mumbles under his breath. “A daughter he sold…”
“Enough,” Faron barks, his demand aimed at West. “Gemma, that won’t be necessary at this point. We reached out to