Page 44 of Show Me

She watches me, weighing.

“And it solves our receptionist problem.” I don’t have any doubts that she’d have the office whipped into shape within the week. Okay, maybe two. Between my dad and me, we’ve made a mess of things.

She braces her hands on her hips. “I’m not running from my job.”

“You’re getting harassed.” The wind rattles the window behind me. The house shifts, wood settling like it’s listening. “Besides, it wouldn’t be running. It’d be making a prudent decision to protect yourself, because this isn’t getting better on its own.”

Her eyes narrow as if she doesn’t like my suggestion. “You’re making it sound simple.”

“It is simple. And it’s safer.” The word hangs between us. Safer.

My hand rests on the counter near hers, not touching, but close enough to feel the warmth of her skin, the faint tremor she’s trying to hide.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Think fast.”

Her mouth curves. “Bossy. Do you have someone else in mind?”

“I’m decisive, and no, I don’t have anyone else in mind.”

The words ring louder in my ears than I want. I should have someone else in mind, but I don’t. Ruby is the best option. Maybe that’s why I’ve not pressed my father harder to find a permanent replacement.

Have I been waiting for this opportunity to present itself?

No. That’s bullshit. I’m not relieved that her life is being upended so that we can get our shit together.

We stand there a second too long, notes spread between us. A door slams shut outside, causing her to jump again. My teeth grind together. I’d like to kick whoever’s ass is doing this to her.

The wind dies. Inside, the kitchen feels smaller. Not because of the missing cabinets. Because letting her walk into a building where anyone can watch her feels like a problem I can’t ignore.

It isn’t about another man noticing her. It’s about someone doing it wrong. It’s about secrecy, about the way her shoulders stiffened when she said her boss touched her, the way her hands shook when she unfolded the note.

Not the tight feeling in my chest. Not the fact that I showed up here on my day off.

I pick up the level and nod toward the wall. “This other stud is off too.”

She exhales, tension breaking just enough. “Then you’d better fix it.”

I do, even if the board was only off by a quarter inch—nothing by most people’s estimation. But fixing things is what I know how to do, especially when it starts to feel like my life is the one being upended and I’m the only one left holding it together.

Chapter Twenty-One

Ruby

I glance up from the computer. Brent is on the rowing machine across the gym. He’s not rowing. He’s leaning back, hands loose on the handle, eyes fixed on me.

The man is creepy.

My stomach knots. I look away and type faster, even though there’s nothing urgent on the screen—just a stack of signed liability waivers I’m entering into the system before filing them away.

“That’s not how we file those.” Greg’s voice comes from behind me.

I didn’t hear him approach. I straighten, my fingers pausing over the keyboard. “It’s how we’ve always done it.”

“It’s not how I want it done.” He steps closer, leaning just enough to see my screen. Not touching. Not quite. Close enough that I have to fight the urge to shift away.

“How do you want them filed?”