Tatum raises a hand, mercifully cutting through the tension. “Did anyone ever figure out what Luca and Croix were fighting about?”
I flash her a silentthank youwith my eyes. I can’t stand talking about Grant and his supposed recklessness any longer.
Clearing my throat, I force myself back to business. “Coach Jones said it has something to do with a girl, but I haven’t pressed them yet. I’ve got a session with both of them tomorrow—Huntley and Xavier’s orders.”
Tatum leans back, wide-eyed. “Uh oh! Big bosses calling the shots?” she teases, but her lightness falls flat when Marlow slams her pen down.
“Yes. Because clearly, I can’t do this job!”
I cross the room towards her. She’s sitting on the edge of her desk, too wound up to use the chair. “Sweetie. You are amazing at this job. If a man had these kinds of setbacks, they’d call it a learning curve. You? You’re a badass. You’re doing something nobody thought you could.”
“And you look damn good doing it!” Tatum chimes in with a wink.
Marlow exhales, her shoulders sagging before she straightens again. “You’re right. Iama badass. Iamdoing a damn good job.” Her eyes darken. “It’s my father who’s fucking everything up.”
“Exactly!” Tatum blurts out, but my head snaps toward her, pleading silently for her to stop piling on. Every word feels like another strike against him—against us.
“Thanks ladies. I really needed this.”
Tatum joins us at the desk anyway, looping her arms around both of us until we’re caught in an awkward girl group hug. I’ve never really had one before, but in spite of everything, it makes something in my chest loosen, just for a second.
But then I glance up. And there he is—filling the doorway.
My heart leaps. My lips betray me, curving into a smile before I can stop it. Correction—abeam. And panic flickers through me because I have to smooth it away, fast, before anyone notices. Before anyone realizes that my first instinct at the sight of Grant Mills is something far too close to desire.
I clear my throat, realizing he’s probably here to smooth things over with his daughter. Not to see me.
“Uh, Low? Grant…Your dad’s here,” I say and we break the hold we have on each other.
Grant steps into the office, tentative. “Can I speak to you, munchkin?”
“Don’t call me that! Especially not at work where I am still trying to earn respect while cleaning up your messes!”
Tatum and I both wince. “We’ll just go,” I say, not even bothering to put on my shoes that always end up on the floor in Marlow’s office because the carpet is so plush.
I grab my shoes, my purse and my pride and scurry out the door.
***
Thirty minutes later, a knock lands on my office door.
It’s him.
“Hi,” he says softly.
“Hi.”
An immediate smile tugs at my lips but his face doesn’t match mine. His shoulders are heavy, his eyes shadowed.
“How is she? How’s Marlow?” I ask carefully.
“Pissed,” he admits. “And I feel like a damn fool, Es. I’m so sorry for dragging you into the middle of this. I should’ve waited. I should’ve controlled myself. I should’ve—”
I rise, stopping his spiral with a gentle hand pressed to his lips. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of us. We both crossed that line. But I do appreciate you being willing to carry the weight of it.” My chest tightens. “I just don’t think it can last this way.”
He shakes his head once, certain. “It won’t.”
“So we’ll tell her,” I say, eyes locked on his.
