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"You ready?" he asks me.
I lick my lips, shoving the wave of agony away. "Yep."
Getting into Brady's SUV still feels weird to me. It still feels forbidden and wrong. There's no Maya now. There's nothing—and no one—to hide from.
I can't believe I used to sneak around with him. I can't believe I put up with that.
A flash of irritation surges through my chest as I lean my head back against the headrest.
"What are you thinking?" Brady gently asks as we head to wherever his main office is.
I wrap my arms around myself as the leaves rustle with the wind. "Why do you think I'm thinking about something?"
"You're quiet."
"Maybe I'm a quiet person now," I exhale. And the agony has turned to anger.
"Did I do something?" he treads lightly. A part of me hates him for knowing me so well.
I shake my head. "No."
"Then what were you thinking about?"
The conflicting emotions floating around my head are making me dizzy. In his office at the Glorious Pig, I felt nine years of missing Brady—longing for him. Now, in his SUV, I'm annoyed with him. With the sneaking around. With the truth.
That he didn't want me until someone else didn't want him.
"Thank you for giving me this job," I force out.
Brady shakes his head. "That's not what you were thinking."
"What I was thinking breaks one of our ground rules," I click my tongue. "So, thank you. I am grateful you're doing this for me. I wish there was some way I could repay you."
"You don't owe me anything," he replies. "If anything, I owe you this."
I owe you this.
I want to ask what he means by that, but I decide silence is safer. Silence keeps us both in check. He has a company—or companies—to run, and I have a daughter to take care of.
—
Brady's office building is a four-story ski resort. I sigh when he opens the heavy wood door and ushers me inside.
Of course, he would own an entire ski resort.
"We're on the fourth floor," Brady explains as he stops by the front desk. "But the key for your car is here. Angelica, my business partner, will show you around tomorrow morning."
"I didn't realize you had a business partner," I say.
Brady takes the key from a man behind a cash register. "Angie is an old friend from college. You'll be in good hands."
I scratch the side of my face. Brady being gone for my first day might not be the worst thing in the world.
"I'll show you to your car," he pinches his lips together.
We walk side-by-side but keep our distance. There's a stiffness to Brady's movements that's hard to ignore. He's tense.
"Here you are," Brady stops in front of a black Mercedes.
