“Sorry. I was just—”
“Enjoying your down time. I’m sorry I interrupted.”
She should be, too. Except it was rather nice to have someone to talk to. Hell, maybe she needed to get a cat to keep her company. Or a goldfish. Work her way up.
“I don’t mind,” she said, even though she knew she should be drawing the line. Making it a point that she was off the clock.
“Thank you,” he said. “For today. I really do appreciate you helping me with this.”
She closed her eyes. “How could I say no?”
His soft chuckle filled her ears. “You are my one in a million, Ali.”
I’m not your anything, she thought with a touch more melancholy than she’d ever admit to.
“But I shouldn’t intrude on your home time. Forgive me, I shouldn’t have called.”
She heard the shift in his voice, from relaxed to business in the blink of an eye, and stifled a sigh. “I’ll email you some of the more pertinent articles tomorrow and we can go from there.”
“Excellent.” He paused.
She returned to the couch, reaching for her wine.
“Thanks again. I owe you one.”
Her fingers froze on the glass stem. “I’m sure I’ll think of something,” she said, the pit in her stomach tightening.
Tell him. Tell him about the letter. Tell him you want out.
The words were impossible to vocalize.
“Sleep well.”
She closed her eyes, enjoying the way his voice rolled out into the air around her. “And you.”
The call ended and she let the phone drop onto the cushions beside her, her request to leave still unvoiced.
He’s just my boss, she told herself. So what if she felt like smiling just because he’d checked in on her? It was a perfectly normal reaction to someone being nice.
Except one phone call from Darian had her feeling more butterflies than the last date she’d been on.
“Dammit,” she sighed, lolling her head against the back of the couch. “He’s not my type.”
Maybe if she said it enough times the words would start to ring true.
…
He shouldn’t have called.
Darian sighed, running his hand down his face. What was wrong with him? Sentimentality wasn’t in his nature. Today was no different from any other day. Jenny getting married shouldn’t send him running to his assistant for…
What exactly? Companionship? Comfort? That wasn’t her job, and he needed to remember it. Some lines shouldn’t ever be blurred.
He couldn’t afford to make mistakes with Allison. He’d never sacrifice what they had.
She’s too important for that.
Too necessary. He needed to keep things professional.
But when he’d come home to his dark, empty house he’d had an uncharacteristic pang of discontent.
Jenny was getting on with her life and starting a family. The closest thing he had to a stable relationship was with a woman he paid to assist him.
“Get it together,” he told himself, striding through his living room. The house was too big for one person. In all honesty, he should have put it on the market years ago.
But one of the many bedrooms upstairs was Jenny’s, and in the back of his mind he’d always assumed she’d end up back here. Some scheme would fall through or she’d get tired of her nomadic ways and she’d need a place to go.
Now, it seemed that excuse would disappear. His sister had a partner. She didn’t need to rely on him any more.
Stepping into his fully renovated kitchen, he didn’t bother turning on the light before he headed straight for the fridge. His housekeeper kept it fully stocked, despite the fact that he couldn’t cook to save his soul. Ignoring the fresh produce, he grabbed a beer and shut the door. Leaning back against the counter, he twisted off the cap and raised it to his lips.
This is a house for a family, big bro.
Those had been Jenny’s parting words the last time she’d stayed here. And she wasn’t wrong. The spacious home was ideally located, close to everything one would ever need. Lord knew the square footage alone ensured more than enough space to accommodate a growing family.
He’d bought it years ago. When other people his age had been crashing on friends’ couches and living with too many roommates he’d been making his first million. And it hadn’t been his last.
After the years of scrimping to keep a roof over Jenny’s head, they’d finally had money. So he’d bought this place in a gamble to try and reclaim that sense of family, of belonging, that had been torn from their lives.
He wasn’t sure he’d been successful in that attempt.
Maybe Ali can help me find a great realtor, he mused, taking another swig of beer. A man like him didn’t need a family home. A bachelor pad with a brilliant view would be far more in line with his lifestyle.