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When Elise crinkles her nose, I fight the urge to laugh. “And I care about her.”
When she relaxes, I ask, “How are you feeling, though? Lucas mentioned that you were a little under the weather.”
Elise smiles wanly. “I’ve been throwing up a lot. Lucas is wonderful about it, though. He knows how scary this is for me, and he went to all but two of my doctor appointments with me. I told him he didn’t have to, but he insisted. He’s so sweet.”
“Right,” I drawl. “Sweet. He is that.”
She gives me a strange look as I shake my head, knowing the lawyer’s fumbling attempts might very well land him in the friend-zone.
“What about the father?” I’m pushing it, and my suspicions about it being someone from the office is confirmed when Elise turns pale.
“He was—I can’t tell him.”
I press my lips together, but I don’t want to upset her. “All right. You let me or Lana know if you need anything. And, of course, Lucas.”
As I make my way to my office, my mind is on the stranger who was searching for Lana.
I send her a quick message to tell her to call me.
These past few weeks have been blissful in a way. My nights are spent with the woman I’m falling in love with. Days are spent facing her in the office as she squares off against me, battling any decisions I make regarding her employees.
I never knew I hadn’t completely healed from Nyla’s actions until Lana. There was an emptiness there that she’s filling piece by piece, and this contentment is making me think about the future.
When my contract here ends, will I return to England? And if I choose to do so, will Lana come with me?
What should I do if she decides to stay here?
These are the questions that haunt me. As I tell Val to call up Mr. Warte, I push these thoughts aside.
When the door opens and a familiar figure walks in, I give a predatory smile. “Sit down, Mr. Warte. You and I have a lot to talk about.”
* * *
Firing Siemens Warte is the best decision I’ve made since joining this company. The man is sleazy, underhanded, and a complete misogynist. I go in search of Lana afterward, but Hanna tells me she’s asked not to be disturbed.
In all the time I’ve known her, she’s never asked to not be disturbed by me, so I obviously ignore Hanna’s exclamation and barge in.
Lana sits at her desk, her face drawn, shadows under her eyes. When she looks up, I see the troubled expression on her face before she schools her features. “I thought I told Hanna not to let anyone in.”
I close the door behind me. “Good thing I’m not just anyone then.”
She appears vaguely annoyed. “Go away.”
Sprawling gracefully in her visitor’s chair, I smile. “I don’t think I will.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Go away, Oliver. I’m not in the mood to talk to you or anybody for that matter.”
“Try.”
She gives me a fierce scowl that would have made a lesser man quiver, but I just shrug it off. “Elise said someone came looking for you.”
“Elise talks too much,” Lana mutters. There’s a flash of unhappiness on her face, making me want to hold her in my arms. But right now, any attempt to approach her will result in getting my head bitten off. Lana likes to work through her problems herself before approaching anybody. While I respect that about her, it’s the reasoning behind it that bothers me. I want her to be able to lean on me, to want to lean on me.
“Who was it?” I ask.
She doesn’t respond, not meeting my gaze.
“Lana,” I say quietly, a sharp tinge of authority in my voice. She glances at me uneasily. I soften my tone. “Who was it, love?”
