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Of course, she ignores it. "What’s your daughter's name?" she asks.
"It’s Andrea," the other woman replies softly.
"I predict Andrea’s going to sleep for at least another hour, enough time for you to get through whatever's urgent."
The HR manager shoots her a grateful look, then walks back toward the makeshift bed she has for the baby.
Silence descends. Mira stiffens then slowly turns to me. "I guess I can’t delay any longer?"
I tilt my head.
She heaves another sigh, then lowers her chin to her chest. "Fine, whatever. I know you’re pissed off. But I’m not going to say sorry."
"Good."
She jerks her gaze back to my face. "Did you say, good?"
"You passed your first test."
Her jaw drops. "Did you say, test?"
I raise a shoulder. "If you want to work as my assistant, you need to stand up to me."
She blinks slowly. "I thought you wanted someone who follows orders?"
I tap my fingers against my chest. "You arrived at eight a.m. today, didn’t you?"
"Another test?"
I fake a yawn. "Enough of this prattle." I turn, walk a few steps forward, then turn back and scowl. "Are you waiting for a special invitation, Ms. Young?"
Her mouth firms, but she follows me down the corridor and into my office. I walk over to the floor to ceiling window that looks out over the River Thames. In the distance, the circle of the London Eye cuts a swathe through the rain. The dome of St. Paul’s Church is almost hidden by the low hanging clouds, except for a curve at the top bared like the shoulder of a shy bride.
"You love this city, don't you?" she asks from behind me.
I nod before I can stop myself.The hell?I never talk about my likes or dislikes with my friends. Definitely not, with my employees. During the time I was General Manager of the London Ice Kings, I kept a strict demarcation between my personal life and my professional one. I prefer to keep my preferences and my secrets to myself. A hangover from the days I was a man of the cloth, maybe, but it’s served me well. This way, I can keep my life straightforward. No emotions, no connections, nothing that could result in getting hurt.
The incident when I was a boy changed me forever. Then there's the broken heart, which I'm still not over. Which is why I’ve done away with messy sentiments. No more allowing myself to feel a connection with others. I did that when I was a priest.
I opened my heart to her, and she chose someone else. I don’t hold it against her. How can I? I left her, with no explanation. She was right in choosing my best friend over me. He can give her everything I can’t—emotional security, a grounding influence, the stability to put down roots and start a family. I curl my fingers into fists.
Last I saw Ava was at a gathering with Baron. She was glowing, and he had his arm around her. They looked at each other with adoration. And their love created a cocoon which enclosed them in their happy space. Surrounded by people, they remained separate, a unit tuned into each other’s presence.
Then I knew, I'd done the right thing by walking away. I stepped aside so the two of them could be happy. And something inside me grew peaceful, knowing they were. I made the correct choice…for them. So what, if I'm to spend the rest of my life alone?
"Edward?"
I blink, then pivot to face her. "Whether I love this city or not is not your concern. You’re here to do a job. You’d best focus on that, so you don’t lose it."
Her mouth firms. "I haven’t said I’d accept the role."
6
Mira
"Where are we again?" he drawls.
"We’re in your office, why?"
