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He looks at me, confused. “Our what?”
“Our help.”
He smiles, still holding my hand. “Absolutely. I want to see him succeed. I think he got dealt a bad hand with this whole deal. He needed to be punished but the whole situation was just a fucking tragedy all the way around.”
He’s right. That poor woman lost her life and my brother will have to live with that for the rest of his.
NINETEEN
Carter
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Iwalk into work smilingat the nice weekend I had. Despite the rocky start of me acting like a caveman Saturday night, it was nice to have her at my place. I slept like a rock knowing she was in the next room safe.
Of course, it would have been nicer to have her wrapped in my arms all night, safe and secure with my scent all over her. But all in due time.
I realize I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a quandary. There’s no way I’m giving up Taryn and whatever this is blooming between us, but I still have to keep it professional.
“Morning, sir. You’ve got a ten a.m. with IT, a lunch meeting with Jim Shaffer, and a board of directors meeting at three,” Briana says as soon as I walk into my office.
“Sounds good. Busy, busy,” I comment as I open my office door and set my briefcase and coffee on my desk.
After booting up my computer, I unbutton my shirt sleeves and roll them to the elbows. Truth be told, I hate wearing a stiff shirt and stuffy tie, and have been strongly considering just letting employees wear what they want within reason—me included. But everything I’ve read stated that dressing nicely—dressing for the job—made people more confident and productive, so I haven’t done it yet. I may try a “causal Friday” thing to see how that goes over. People are generally less productive on Fridays, anyway.
My phone chimes. Who the hell is texting me this early? I look down at my phone.
Richelle:Guess what? My sister’s getting married in September and I’m the maid of honor! Will you come with me? I need a date.
Fucking-A. Why won’t this psycho leave me alone?
I can’t resist a dig, so I type a reply:I hope your bridesmaid dress fits since you’ll be as big as a house by then.
I smile and set the phone down. Immature? Yes. Regrets? No.
The phone beeps and I look at the screen.
