The Employer

Chapter 12

Marc Nassar

"You have such a lovely home, Marc," Vivian says while glancing around the foyer. She fiddles with her diamond necklace and...shit. I should have just canceled with her tonight. I kept going back and forth. But now, with the way her eyes are glittering, taking in every surface, I may have made the wrong decision.

It was supposed to just be a casual dinner out, introducing her to the girls. Low key.

But this right now? This feels high key. Showcasing my home promises so much to someone I've only been on two dinner dates with. Right?

Also, only three weeks ago I was telling Celeste I don't bring random women home. And here I am, bringing a woman no one in my house knows about, home.

I sigh and shake off the nerves, the clink of my keys on the side table rooting me back into reality.

This is my home. And Vivian isn't random. And it isn't too soon. I need to know what the twins think of her sooner rather than later.

Vivian, as it turned out, shows a lot of potential for being a wife and a mother. She's attractive, smart, amiable, seems to be good with kids, and comes from a good family. Objectively, it makes sense for us to continue down this path of going on dates and getting to know each other. Plus, all that talk about sex a few weeks ago made me realize I do need to get back out there. If the kids approve of Vivian, I could see myself taking those next steps soon.

And our dates have been good. More vanilla compared to other dates I've been on in the past with conversation that wasn't anything to write home about, but that's exactly what I need.

What I'm doing is what's best for me and my family. Especially since I haven't managed to get Celeste out of my mind since our meet up over coffee. These past three weeks I've had to stop myself from asking for more updates from Kristina about Celeste than what's reasonable. After getting her set up with every gadget available in her room, and setting up her car insurance, I told myself to back down.

And bringing Vivian here sends a message to not only Celeste but to every single one of my staff— I'm a man with interests elsewhere.

Still, dread fills me like a heavy barbell pressed against my chest as we walk toward the kitchen. My fingers turn cold against the metaphorical metal but I work hard to push it up.

It's eerily quiet here.

We reach the kitchen and find it empty, except for Celeste, who's in a rod-like stance and has her arms folded across her chest, facing the entryway. My heart skips frantically and I smile. She is, without question, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. "Hey, Celeste. Where are the girls?"

"They're upstairs, getting ready for bed," she bites out, unsmiling and with nostrils flaring a little.

"I thought we were having dinner."

She scoffs, eyes still trained on me and not veering toward the woman quiet on my left. "That was nearly an hour ago."

I glance at my watch. It's been about twenty minutes since I texted. "I texted I was going to be late."

"Not forty five fuuuuu-" She catches herself and slams her mouth together tight, her jaw feathering before she speaks again, "Not forty five minutes late!" Her face is glowing slightly red and my pulse shoots up.

"Oh, hon, it was my fault!" Vivian chimes in. "I asked Marc for a little extra time to get ready."

Celeste doesn't pay her any attention and continues to stare at me with her frown deepening, alerting every nerve ending in my body, including the ones near my dick. "The food that's left is on the table. Enjoy your dinner, Mr. Nassar," she says with disdain dripping off each syllable before leaving the kitchen.