“Chloe? Mr. Sutton was looking for you. You’d better get back out here,” a loud male voice called through the sliding door.
Chloe panicked, jumping to her feet and shoving them into her sandals. “Shit! I’ve been in here so long, everyone is going to know,” she muttered, shoving things in her locker.
I stood up. “So what if they do?”
“Said like a man who isn’t desperate for his paycheck.” She scowled at me.
I took her arm as she went to hurry past me and pulled her close. “I can guarantee you aren’t getting fired. And why are you desperate for your paycheck? If you needhelp, ask me.”
“Right, because sleeping with the new boss isn’t scandalous enough, I should add getting paid for it to the mix,” she said, her huge brown eyes warm enough to sink into forever.
Guilt clenched my gut, an awkward mix of arrogance and lack of empathy warring with the anxiety that Chloe might regret what happened between us. Had I pushed her? Did she feel obligated?
“I’m not paying you for anything, and even if you have slapped me in the face, you’d still have your job. You’re the most qualified lifeguard and responsible worker. You’ve earned your job, Chloe, and nothing that happens between us changes that. The money is something personal between us, and no one would ever know about it. Lean on me, sweetheart. I want you to.”
Chloe looked torn, relieved, but still troubled. Stuart banged again on the door. “Chloe? Come on!”
“I have to get out there,” Chloe muttered.
I let her go. I watched with a troubled heart as she rushed into the hot sunlight, closing the door behind her to hide my presence. It was an odd, uncomfortable feeling, being someone’s dirty little secret and quite a novel one. I’d always been a catch, especially for social climbing, money-hungry mercenary women. But it seemed the one woman I wanted considered me a guilty secret rather than a catch.
That was something I would have to remedy.