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But this was a job.
He wasn’t her friend. He was her boss.
And she had to remember that.
He tapped her wrist. “Hey, what’re you thinking?”
“Oh, man, I mean…I want to know if you ever think about your dad and if you would’ve wound up doing something different if you hadn’t needed the money when you were a kid, but I don’t want to be too nosy.” She grinned like she was joking even though he had to know she meant it. “I know, I know. I’m your assistant. I’m supposed to make the tea and handle travel arrangements.”
He was quiet, and she figured she’d lose him to his phone again. But after a long moment, he said, “I think about my dad all the time. Every time my mom takes a vacation by herself, every time my sister dates another older guy…” He glanced out the window. “Every time I hit a wall and need advice.”
A surge of affection crashed through her so hard her skin tingled. “I know exactly how you feel.” She reached for his hand. And when his palm opened to lace his fingers with hers, warmth bloomed inside her chest.
But he looked at their joined hands and quickly released her, his features wiped clean of emotion.
Stung, embarrassed, she started talking, hoping words would cover the faux pas. “I love my dad, but my mom was all about me. My dad’s dedicated to his clients at the autobody shop, his staff, and me, but I was the spoiled little shit who got to be number one on someone’s agenda for fourteen years. And that’ll never happen again, you know? Sure, I’ll fall in love, and it’ll be great. But I’ll never matter most because everyone has a career, parents, siblings…a life. No one loves you like a mom.”
“I think one day you’ll have a kid, and you’ll get what you need through that.”
He did it again, made her feel like she hadn’t overstepped. A simple comment, the kind tone, put them back on the same page.
And she loved it. She felt so safe talking to him, like maybe she didn’t have to monitor everything she said and did. “See, I knew there was a reason I had crush on you.”
After they finished their errands, it was time to get him to his first appointment, but when the car took the wrong exit off the freeway, Della twisted around to see what was going on. “Isn’t this the way back to the bus?”
Van glanced out the window. As the stadium came into sight, he said, “Yep.”
Quickly, Della pulled up the calendar. “I don’t think we have time.” He had two radio station gigs, a luncheon with his label’s regional sales and marketing team, and a series of interviews in the penthouse of the fanciest hotel in town.
He eyed her curiously, but his phone rang, and he answered. “Hey, man. How you feeling?” As he listened, he broke into a true smile. “Oh, I know all about what restores you. Just turning into the parking lot now. You ready to roll?” Whatever the man was saying made Van laugh. “Don’t waste your voice mouthing off to me. Okay, we’re here.” He disconnected.
As they climbed the stairs of the bus, Della was confused. “Did you need to change clothes or something?”
“Why would I need to change?”
She led the way, Van coming up the stairs behind her. “For the luncheon? It’s at a fancy restaurant.”
Wait a damn minute. Van stood in the lounge. In front of her.
“I thought I was doing the luncheon?” he asked.
Della swung around. There are two Van Claybournes? “What the hell—”
Her Van—the sexy man she’d bonded with in the SUV—pushed past her. “Let me just make your tea.”
“Cool.” The other Van dropped onto the couch, stretching out his legs.
They were going about their business as if it were completely normal to have two identical rock stars. Della wagged a finger between them. “What’s going on?”
Casual as ever, filling the kettle with water, Sexy Van said, “What? Oh, we’re twins. You didn’t know that?”
