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“I’m glad that you didn’t take the money,” he whispered as we embraced.
“Why? Between the accidental death money and the settlement, I would’ve made out eighty grand richer than before. I could do a little something with that.”
“Because despite all that shit Walter Burgess was talking, I have him running scared. He’s afraid of something.”
“He didn’t sound afraid.”
“Mind games, Kierra. The fact that Walter Burgess left his penthouse corner office suite to see me in person was his first mistake. His second mistake was doubling their initial offer. They know they’re liable for something. Companies like that? They treat us little guys like a speck of dust in the wind when they know they’ll win by a landslide. Those hotshot lawyers don’t show their faces for no reason.”
What Jonathan said made sense. Something had to drive Mr. Burgess down here in person.
“I’m sorry for overreacting,” I murmured, finally noticing how we swayed gently from side to side and how comfortable I felt in another man’s arms. I’d been dealing with extreme guilt ever since Jonathan Baker first smiled at me. It was the first time I’d taken notice of another man since Rory’s passing, and it felt like a knife to the gut.
Now, here I am, seven months after my husband’s death, wondering the age-old question. How soon is too soon to respectfully move on?
“You have nothing to apologize for. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be a little skeptical myself, but you have to remember that I’m on your side.”
I pulled away from him and gave him one last withering glance before side-stepping to the door. “Well, I should—”
I paused and pointed at the door.
“Right, right. I’m sure you have a busy day ahead of you,” he said with a grin. “I’ll see you at home?”
“Yeah…yeah…I’ll see you at home,” I agreed before rushing out of his office.
“Are you all right, Kierra?” Cara asked as I blew into the reception area like a Texas twister.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You look a little flustered. I don’t blame you. I’d be, too. Mr. Burgess is a walking ick.”
“Absolutely. Come on, girls. It’s time to go,” I said, rounding up the troops. I left Jonathan’s office thinking I should do something nice for him—something to make up for today and show him how much I appreciate him.
But what? Maybe a nice dinner? But what does Jonathan like?
I strapped the girls into their car seats and called Anthony. The phone rang a few times before the line clicked.
“Anthony speaking,” he grunted.
“Hey, Anthony! It’s Kierra.”
“Hey, Kierra. How’s it going?”
“Pretty good,” I replied, maneuvering out of the parking lot. “I won’t keep you long because I know you’re busy, but I was wondering if you could help me out with something.”
“No, I will not babysit Daisy.”
I snorted.
I think this man seriously has a vendetta against a child.
“What’s the matter? Are you afraid Daisy will get her lick back for Nori pushing her down the slide at the park?”
“I’m not afraid. I just don’t want to deal with Jonathan when Daisy returns home crying.”
“Jonathan’s not the one you have to worry about,” I joked, glancing at the girls in the rear-view mirror.
“Sheesh. You nannies always get so territorial.”
