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I follow his Mercedes in my car and, when we get to his place, he tells me to start the fireplace and he’ll take care of the kids.
I kick off my shoes and stretch out on the sofa in front of the fire. It’s completely unnecessary—the summer heat is lingering in Somerset. But I like the ambiance, and I have no fireplace in my apartment. The warm, romantic glow lulls me to sleep.
A quiet, deep whisper murmurs my name. When I open my eyes, Rowan is there. “Sorry to wake you. But I thought you’d be more comfortable in bed.”
“I didn’t want to presume—
He laughs and kisses me. “Presume all you like.” He reaches a hand out for me and leads me to his bed. His next kiss tells me the night is just beginning.
14
Rowan
“She’s on my side,” Jonah whines over the whir of my car’s engine.
“Nuh uh,” Ellie argues.
“Ellie, what did I tell you about that?”
She huffs. “That nuh uh is not a valid argument and would not win a case in court, but Dad, we are not in court. We’re in your car.”
“And it won’t win an argument here, either. You two have to learn to share the backseat. You’re the big sister. Set an example. And I can see you rolling your eyes in the mirror, remember?”
“I am setting an example,” she says petulantly. “I’m showing him how to share his side of the backseat.”
I struggle not to laugh at her logic. “Okay, that’s a better argument, except that you admitted you’re on his side of the backseat. And Jonah, stop sticking your tongue out at your sister.”
“Why can’t we be like normal families and have TVs on the headrests?” Ellie whines. “I promise I won’t bother Jonah if I get a TV back here.”
“You two have enough screen time already, thank you very much—
“But I’m bored.”
“Do what my brothers and I did. Look out the windows. There’s a universe out there, and you miss that when you just look at a tiny screen all the time.”
Together, they roll their eyes at me. Well, at least they’re not fighting each other. I take the win and pull up to Jonah’s preschool drop-off. Once he’s settled, it’s on to Ellie’s elementary, five minutes away. I tell her the same thing I say every day: “Be better than yesterday and make good choices.”
“I’ll try, but I can’t promise.” She leaves me behind, and I race to work. Between Ellie’s elementary and the office are the quietest minutes I get all day until the evening. Though my evenings had been rather busy lately.
Autumn is not particularly shy.
Friends-with-benefits is scary as fuck, but so far, so damned worth it. In her, I have the hot girl, the best friend, the confidant, and the babysitter who my kids actually listen to. She is the complete package. Every time I’m with her, I can’t help but think that Mark was an utter fool. But his loss is my incredible gain.
Today, though, I have to go to my proper office at the Cargill Group. I’m a name partner, but since I spend so little time there, I let others take the lead on cases that are of no interest to me. Unfortunately, I had to care about this case.
Our formal office is in a renovated brick schoolhouse that was going to be torn down until Dad bought it from the developers. It had been his childhood school, and he refused to see it destroyed. The remodel was extensive, but he had a vision, and now, our offices are sharp. The interior features ivory marble floors, hardwood paneling, and custom Italian leather furniture. Classic, yet modern design features in every detail.
Strolling into the office, I distribute head nods to those who give me a, “Good morning, Mr. Cargill,” because it’s awkward to admit I don’t know all their names. With so many businesses, it’s hard to keep everyone straight. Passing my personal office, I head straight for the fourth conference room. It’s the biggest one, perfect for the biggest pain in the ass we have. We need the room for him and his ego.
Plastering on a polite smile, I open it up and find him. “Good morning, Dixon.”
Dixon Maynard is a hell of a litigator, and that does not make him pleasant to be around. I had met him in law school and, to his credit, hehadbeaten me in moot court. Twice. Unfortunately, that made him bristle whenever he was reminded that I was his boss. “Good morning, Rowan. Nice of you to make an appearance at the home office now and then.”
“Since my name is on the door, I get cc’ed on the cases you can’t handle. Fill me in.” I sit at the head of the table. No doubt he recalls the time I had to dress him down for taking that chair. He had the balls to take the lead seat in front of opposing counsel, making us look disorganized and weak. Our subsequent conversation was unpleasant, to say the least.
“I’m handling it just fine, thank you. But opposing counsel seems to think if they bother you, then they’ll get more money.”
“Go on.”
