Chapter 94
Emily's POV
The dealership Alex chose was exactly the kind of place I'd expected him to pick—all gleaming glass and polished concrete, with luxury vehicles arranged like museum pieces under perfect lighting. A salesman in a suit that probably cost more than my monthly rent spotted us the moment we walked through the door and made a beeline in our direction, his professional smile already locked in place.
"Mr. Monroe," he said, extending his hand to Alex with the kind of familiarity that told me this wasn't Alex's first visit. "Good to see you again. What can we help you with today?"
"My associate needs a vehicle," Alex said, gesturing toward me. "Something practical but well-made. Reliable for daily commuting, good safety ratings, efficient on gas."
The salesman's eyes flicked to me, reassessing. I could see him trying to figure out our relationship—employer and employee, or something else—and clearly deciding it didn't matter as long as Alex was the one paying. "Of course. We have several models that would fit those specifications. If you'll follow me?"
He led us through the showroom, past sports cars and SUVs that made my stomach clench just thinking about their price tags, toward a section in the back where the vehicles looked slightly more reasonable. More like something a normal person might actually drive.
"Now, given your requirements," the salesman was saying, "I'd recommend starting with our mid-size sedan line. Excellent fuel economy, top safety scores, and the maintenance costs are very manageable. This model here"—he gestured to a sleek silver car that still looked far too expensive—"is one of our most popular choices for professionals who want something dependable without sacrificing quality."
I stepped closer, running my hand along the hood. The paint was smooth and flawless under my fingers, the interior visible through the windows clean and modern without being ostentatious. It was nice. Really nice. Nicer than anything I'd ever imagined owning.
And that was exactly the problem.
"What about something... less?" I said, glancing at Alex. "This is beautiful, but I don't need beautiful. I need functional."
"This is functional," Alex said, his tone maddeningly reasonable. "It's also safe and reliable, which matters more than you wanting to downgrade out of some misplaced sense of modesty."
"I'm not being modest, I'm being practical. I'm going to be parking this thing on a college campus. I need something that won't get stolen or vandalized the first week I have it."
"Then get the security package," Alex said, nodding to the salesman, who immediately started making notes on his tablet. "Remote start, GPS tracking, alarm system. Problem solved."
I shot him a look that clearly said you're not helping, but he just smiled back at me with that infuriating confidence that meant he'd already decided how this was going to go and nothing I said would change his mind.
The salesman, sensing an opportunity, jumped in. "We also have this model available in several more understated colors—charcoal grey, navy blue, even black if you prefer. And the base trim level strips out some of the luxury features while keeping all the safety and performance specs. Would you like to see those options?"
I hesitated, glancing between him and Alex. The reasonable part of my brain was screaming that this was too much, that I should push back harder, that accepting something this expensive was crossing a line I'd told myself I wouldn't cross. But another part—the part that was so tired of struggling, of making do, of pretending I didn't want things I couldn't afford—was whispering that maybe it was okay to let someone help me. That maybe I'd earned this, at least a little bit.
"Charcoal grey," I said finally, my voice quiet. "And the base trim. I want to see what that looks like."
Alex's expression softened, just for a moment, like he understood exactly what that admission had cost me. Then he turned to the salesman and nodded. "Show us."
Twenty minutes later I was sitting in the driver's seat of a grey sedan that was still far nicer than anything I'd ever owned but at least didn't scream look at me quite as loudly. The salesman had walked Alex through financing options—or more accurately, Alex had declined financing entirely and asked about paying in full—while I sat there gripping the steering wheel and trying not to think too hard about what this meant.
"So?" Alex's voice came from beside the car, where he'd leaned down to look through the open window at me. "What do you think?"
I turned to face him, my hands still locked on the wheel. "I think you're insane."
"I think you're worth it," he said simply, and the sincerity in his voice made my throat tight.
I looked away, focusing on the dashboard instead of his face. "The rest of the team is getting bonuses too, right? You weren't just saying that?"
"I wasn't just saying that. Everyone who stayed through the turnaround and put in the extra work is getting something—cash bonuses for most of them, and a few other performance incentives for the senior staff. You're not special because I'm playing favorites, Emily. You're special because you did work that actually deserved this level of recognition."
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to accept that this was just business, just compensation for a job well done, and not another complicated thread in the increasingly tangled web of our relationship. But I also knew Alex well enough by now to recognize when he was telling me the truth and when he was telling me a version of the truth that would make me more comfortable. And this felt like the latter.
Still, I was too tired to fight it. Too tired to keep pushing back against every good thing that came my way like I didn't deserve it. And maybe, just this once, I could let myself have something without interrogating every possible motive behind it.
"Okay," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Okay. Thank you."
Alex's smile was genuine this time, warm and unguarded. "You're welcome. Now come on—you need to take it for a test drive before we finalize anything. Make sure you actually like how it handles."
I did like how it handled. The acceleration was smooth when I pressed the gas, and the steering responded to every small adjustment. The backup camera made parking easy, and I could actually connect my phone through Bluetooth instead of fumbling with aux cords.
When I pulled back into the dealership parking lot after driving careful circles through the surrounding streets, I sat there for a moment with my hands still on the wheel. I could picture myself behind it every day. Driving to campus, to work, to wherever I needed to go. And for once, I didn't feel like I was pretending to be someone I wasn't.
"We'll take it," Alex told the salesman before I'd even fully parked.