I nodded. “Good.”
I watched her walk over to Samuel and pick him up. He was babbling and cooing as she set him on her hip. I chuckled as he reached up and grabbed her chin. I glanced toward the bedroom, where my suitcase was tucked in the closet. Our quiet, intimate moment was over.
“Guess I should get my shoes on so we can get going.”
Sabrina had grabbed ahold of Samuel’s hand and was holding it as she bounced him around. She glanced over at me. “Okay,” she said.
It frustrated me how badly I wanted some kind of reciprocation from her. I wanted her to show me in her gaze, the way she smiled at me, or the tenderness in her voice that she was feeling what I was feeling. That, maybe, I caused the same reaction in her that she caused in me.
But the longer I stayed there, the more apparent her apathy became. She didn’t see me like I saw her. I was just her boss, and she was just my assistant.
The sooner I accepted that fact, the happier we would all be.
9
EMERY
“What is this? The nineteen hundreds?” Abigail demanded as she pushed her chair back and stood. She bit her nails as she paced back and forth in front of the table where Bash and I were sitting.
Noah was in the living room—I wasn’t sure if he could hear us or not—and Timothy was still passed out on the bed in what I could only assume was Sabrina’s room. Something had happened between Abigail and her sister. Bash had attempted to get Abigail to tell me the story, but she’d hurriedly changed the subject to me and why I was here…which was now the topic we were discussing. The stupid marriage stipulation the board had just forced on me.
“Why—why is your family so backwards? Why does Emery’s marital status matter?” Abigail had stopped moving and focused her energy on Bash. “Why would they even put that sort of rule in place?” Her hands were firmly planted on her hips, and she was glaring. “First you had to marry that Emmeline because of your family, and now Emery?”
Bash’s eyes were wide as he stared at his fiancée before he flicked his gaze over to me. Regret washed over me at the memory of what I’d asked Bash to do.
How could I have been so stupid as to bring up what the board demanded in front of him? Did he hate me for complaining about having the same kind of ridiculous rule enacted on me? My cheeks warmed with guilt.
“I’m so sorry, Bash,” I whispered. How could I have been so insensitive?
Bash’s eyes were wide as he slowly shook his head. “It’s okay. I’m okay. We’re okay,” he said softly.
I could see in his gaze that he wanted me to believe him. That he didn’t feel any ill will toward me. I offered him a relieved smile. “Thanks.” I was never going to forgive myself for what I had done to him, but it was nice to know that he’d moved forward.
Abigail looked like a deer in headlights as she glanced back and forth between me and Bash. When I finally caught her gaze, she furrowed her brow. “I should—I didn’t mean—” She blew out her breath.
I held up my hand. “It’s okay. I’m a different person now. I would never make Bash marry anyone he didn’t want to.”
Abigail gave me a wide smile. “Good.”
“For the record, I would never do that either,” Bash said, holding up his right forefinger.
Abigail zeroed in on him. “But it’s your family that is making Emery do this.”
“I—I didn’t make up that rule,” he said as he firmly planted his hand on his chest. “That was put in place by my grandfather. He did it to protect his company from my crazy aunt.” He shrugged. “I guess they forgot it was there and never had it removed when my dad took over.” He went quiet for a moment as if waiting for Abigail to respond. When she didn’t, he added, “If it were up to me, I would throw that ridiculous rule out.”
Abigail frowned as she narrowed her eyes at Bash. I could tell that she was trying to digest his words and decide if she was going to accept that answer. Finally, she sighed, and a relieved expression passed over Bash’s face as she moved to sit back down.
“I guess the real question is, do you want to do this?” She had her elbows resting on the table and was leaning on them, bringing herself closer to me.
At her question, my thoughts instantly turned to Carson’s letter. He wanted me to be with someone if anything happened to him. I couldn’t help but wonder if this clause was his influence from the grave. The fact that both came to light around the same time felt too deliberate to be a coincidence.
Abigail’s expression was expectant, so I sighed before I tapped my fingers on the tabletop. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s what Carson would want, right?” I snuck a peek at Bash to see his reaction.
But, just like always, a forlorn look passed through his gaze when his brother’s name was mentioned. I knew it hurt him so much to talk about his brother, but it was nice to have someone else in the room who knew Carson like I did. Who remembered what it was like when he was alive. We breathed life into his memory when we were together.
“I mean, it would be nice for Timothy to have a father figure in his life. All he’s known is me…” I paused. “And I guess, Noah, now.” My cheeks warmed as I spoke his name. My gaze drifted over to the living room. I could see the soft outline of his profile as he sat with his right arm slung over the back of the couch, his attention forward. The low murmur of a TV news anchor could barely be heard from where I was sitting.
Abigail had followed my glance, so when I brought my attention back to the table, so did she. Her eyebrows were drawn together as she studied me.
