“You can take all the vacation time you want,” he offered.
“Thanks.”
Another pause entered the conversation. What was it? Was it really just a family phone call? Maybe she was upset her sister was engaged when they were keeping things casual. If that was the problem, he didn’t know how to help her. Hearing from her family must have reminded her of the road not traveled. Was she regretting the choices that had brought them together?
“My mother was pestering me about my relationship status, so I might be a bit testy.”
“Did you mention me?” he asked.
She laughed. “Do you really think I’d tell my extremely conservative mother about our relationship? How would that go, exactly? ‘No worries, Mom, I’m just engaging in some hot casual sex with a billionaire playboy. See you at Christmas.’”
“Probably not the best idea.”
“No, I’ll be keeping you to myself.”
A pain shot through him. Because she was treating him as her dirty little secret? He should be thrilled, not insulted.
“Yes, sounds like a plan,” he forced himself to say. “I’ll finish up as fast as I can, and you can vent in person.”
“Nah, I’ll be fine. Just making a sandwich. Want me to leave you one on the counter?”
He smiled at her thoughtfulness. “Please. I haven’t eaten yet.”
“Okay, will do. Don’t work too hard. I’m missing you over here.”
“I’ll be there soon. Promise.” He disconnected, tossing his phone onto his desk. If only he could say to hell with his work and rush over to Allison’s place. He could help her take her mind off her family.
He’d never resented that his job demanded long hours of him. Not until now, when he finally had somewhere he’d rather be.
Maybe I should review my business model, he mused. Would it kill me to cut back a little?
Everyone needed a life outside the office. Not that he’d ever felt that drive before, but there was a first time for everything.
He sighed, tipping his face up toward the ceiling. Allison was changing him. As much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t think what they had was as temporary as he’d wanted it to be.
Dragging a hand down his face, he focused back on his work. Those were dangerous thoughts better left for after the wedding. Then they’d have time to figure out just what their relationship was evolving into.
Right now, however, he needed to keep his eye on the target. The wedding was just over a week away. What could possibly go wrong?
Chapter Seventeen
“I appreciate you staying late,” he said again.
Allison smiled up at him. “Two heads are better than one. I don’t mind helping out.” She stretched her arms over her head. “But I do think I’ll make a vending machine run. If I have to examine any more of these prospective deals, I need a sugar infusion.”
“Hitting up the good one in the lobby?”
“Absolutely.” She rose to her feet.
“Let me guess, salt and vinegar chips.”
She leaned down to give him a quick kiss. “You know me so well.”
He smiled at that. “Can you grab me a—”
“Kit Kat. I’ve got you covered, lover.” Grabbing her purse, she strode from the office.
Darian leaned back against the couch, following her lead and taking a break. Not for the first time he was struck by how comfortable it was to work with her. Be with her. They really were the perfect team in so many ways.
Glancing at the paper strewn coffee table, he sighed. There was probably another hour or two of work ahead of him. Maybe they should have skipped the vending machine and gone straight for ordering in.
The buzzing of his cell interrupted his musings.
“King, here,” he said, putting the phone to his ear.
“I’m so glad I caught you. This is Sam Lewis from Sahra. Sorry for the late call.”
He pushed forward, glancing at his watch. “Not at all. I’m still at the office. What can I do for you, Sam?”
“We’re having some trouble with our endive deliveries. I’m worried they wouldn’t be up to our standards for the wedding.”
He frowned. “So what are the options?”
“I’d like to ask if we could substitute another appetizer. Our chef makes incredible French onion soup.”
Pushing to his feet, he paced away from the couch. “You’re sure the salad is impossible?”
Sam made a distressed sound. “Trust me, we at Sahra want things to run as smoothly as possible. I truly believe this is the best course of action. I’d be happy to give you a discount for the inconvenience.”
“All right,” he said, running a hand down his face. “If there are no other alternatives, then let’s go with that.”