Page 6 of Miss Fortune

“No, you’re not. Is this because of the bitch who hit your car and her stupid kid? Did she say something about me?”

Rage was something I seldom felt, but hearing her words set me off. “He’s not stupid; he’s autistic. And she wasn’t a bitch. If anything, you’re only highlighting why I no longer wish to see you.”

She turned from anger to instant tears. “I liked you, Caleb.”

I tried to keep my voice gentle, but agitation lingered over her cruel words. She’d hit upon the reason I didn’t tell anyone about my diagnosis, not even my own family. Because people were judgmental about anything they didn’t see as “normal.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” But I was unable to convey much emotion after she’d shown her true colors. On top of that, I’d been clear about my limits regarding a relationship from the beginning. She wasn’t the first woman who’d caught feelings, but I didn’t share them. Sure, I could blame all of my long work hours for my lack of interest, but the truth was I’d been down the commitment road once and would never go there again.

“I don’t understand. We have so much in common.”

Yes. We were both lawyers who thought of time in tenth-of-the-hour billable increments, and we’d both grown up in privileged families, but the extent of our commonality ended there. My ex-wife and I had owned a laundry list of items in common, but it still hadn’t worked.

“I hope we can stay friendly,” I offered. Or at least cordial if we happened to run into each other. She was a tax attorney, and I was a divorce attorney in a different firm, but you never knew when paths might cross.

“Friendly? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. You’re going to end up old and alone someday. Is that what you want?”

Frankly, yes. That was the plan. Then I wouldn’t disappoint anyone else with the limitations on what I could and couldn’t give to a relationship.

“Tabitha, I’m sorry I hurt you. This morning aside, we went out on two dates, and I was clear this would only be casual. Your reaction confirms we’re on different pages.”

Her glare was murderous. “You don’t deserve a woman like me.”

Much to my relief, she finally exited the car after her parting words.

I pulled back into traffic and took a deep breath. Freedom. Jesus. To be so upset over what? Two dates? I had some regret over sleeping with her. Since she’d initiated it after our last date and indicated casual was all she wanted, I’d believed her. Now it was clear it had been a mistake.

By the time I parked in my building and took the elevator up, I was cutting it close. I walked straight into my office, took off my coat, and laid my leather bag on my desk. I abhorred being tardy for anything. On top of being late, I had a long day ahead of me and now my phone was blowing up with apologies from Tabitha. I was quickly forming a headache.

Doris followed me in. “Ms. Wilson is running behind. Guess you must’ve hit the same traffic.”

Normally, I’d be annoyed with anyone who was late to see me, but this morning I was relieved to hear the news. It would give me a couple minutes to get settled.

“I’m going to grab some coffee. Let me know once she arrives.”

Although most attorneys in the building preferred the Starbucks on the ground level, I was a simple guy, preferring it black and caffeinated. I headed for the kitchenette and the coffee machine down the hall, forcing a smile in the direction of some of the staff sitting at the small tables, chatting easily about their weekend. A familiar pang hit me as I wished I could be as social. But conversation wasn’t something that had ever come naturally to me. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until adulthood I’d finally discovered why. So now, armed with years of therapy, I was able to fake it well enough to come across as an introvert instead of someone with a developmental disorder.

When I walked back toward my office, Doris stood up at her desk, which was perched across the aisle from my door. “Your interview is here in the lobby. If you would go to conference room B, I’ll bring her in. I know you’ll adore Daisy. She’s lovely.”

I’d reserve my judgment. As long as Doris endorsed her and was happy to show her the ropes so the temp could muddle through for the next few weeks, then I was fine to proceed.

Wait. Had she mentioned Daisy was her name? What a strange coincidence to meet two women with the same unique name in one day.

But when the temporary hire walked into the conference room, I realized the coincidence wasn’t merely in the name.

Chapter Five

Daisy

My pulse went wild at the sight of the Gillette shaving model from this morning, standing in the conference room as my interviewer.

We both stared at each other until Doris spoke. “I’ll leave you two.”

I didn’t turn, only murmured, “Thanks,” and heard the door shut behind her. But her absence only escalated the awkwardness. Time to break the ice.

“You’re Mr. Morrison? What are the chances?”

He didn’t smile. Didn’t so much as move. All righty, then.