NINE
Colby
I was giddy on my way to Rip’s office, which was surprising, really, since the last and only other time I’d been there I’d ended up in tears. I’d gone there to meet Monica and ended up eavesdropping on her and Rip discussing our one and only disastrous date.
I got there just in time to hear him tell her that I needed to grow the hell up rather than complain about the stress of my job. And that I needed to act like an actual adult rather than traveling all over the world. He said a few more hurtful things—private things I’d told him in confidence since he’d asked, and while it didn’t matter that Monica knew, it hurt that he had such venom behind his words.
I pulled Rip’s Mercedes into the first parking spot I could find and grinned. He’d never given me permission to take his car, but he needed the minivan to cart the kids around.
I cut the engine and grabbed my stuff. The office building was nestled right between a bagel shop, yay, and a coffee shop, double yay. Somehow, knowing that I had coffee and he was out added extra pep to my step as I opened the door to Rip’s office building.
My joy was short lived. The woman who shall not be named greeted me with a cold stare. “Can I help you?”
I hesitated a bit, taking in yet another gorgeous pantsuit, this time black. Her earrings were gorgeous gold dangly things that would look ridiculous on me but kissed her shoulders in a way that screamed rich.
Which had always been the problem growing up. I was the kid who had zero parent involvement, who wore hand-me-downs until Monica finally took pity on me and gave me some of her clothes so I wouldn’t get made fun of.
And it had just sucked.
All of it had sucked.
There had been no reason for Heather to pick on me apart from the fact that I was Monica’s best friend and that meant I got to hang out with Rip, who was everyone’s dream guy. Captain of basically everything, total heartthrob, straight-A-student Rip whose house I got to have sleepovers at.
I still remember the day Heather tripped me in gym, forcing me to land right at Rip’s feet. I had a purple eye for a week.
I shot her a fake smile that I hoped looked at least a little genuine and bypassed her tidy mahogany desk like a woman on a mission. “I’m good, thanks.”
Since Rip owned the firm, his office was huge and in the very back at the end of the hall.
I’d have peace.
Quiet.
A few minutes of sanity, even though I knew I would miss the kids because although it was stressful, they were ours, they were family, and seeing them reminded me of all those small moments that mattered, moments that you sometimes don’t cherish enough because you always assume they’ll be there.
At least I wouldn’t have constant distractions, which always derailed my writing. Even if I got in the zone, all it took was one interruption to pull me out of it, no matter how cute the interruption.
Two hours, zero disruptions, and three cups of coffee later and I felt like a new woman.
I’d already finished two of my articles and sent ideas to my boss for more content by noon. She’d been pretty understanding, but the blog she ran needed content, and the main part of my job was to bring that content at least three times a week, which before kids hadn’t been a huge deal. Now I was ready to open a bottle of wine for finishing a sentence.
I mentally patted myself on the back. Unfortunately, my self-congratulatory moment was short lived. “You’re not my cranky friend, Rip. Gotta admit, I like the view in here today way better. Smart woman with a pencil behind her ear, and what is that? A sundress? Let me guess, you purposely wear bright colors in hopes of giving Rip a heart attack?”
I gaped at the man standing in the doorway.
I couldn’t help it.
He was drop-dead gorgeous in a slap-you-in-the-face sort of way that had you wanting to rub your eyes just to make sure you weren’t hallucinating or, you know, dead.
The navy-blue suit he wore fit like it was custom tailored, and the top few buttons of his white shirt were undone, revealing a tan, firm chest. I could have sworn that he growled as he stalked toward the desk.
His hair fell in luscious, light-brown, messy waves that somehow managed to also look perfectly styled. Green eyes crinkled in amusement as he leaned his muscled body over the desk and said, “Tell me everything.”
“Huh?” Stop drooling, Colby! Is this the part where he throws all the contents of the desk onto the ground and whispers, “Take me, I’m yours”? No? And where the hell is the signup sheet for that sort of office experience?
“I said tell me everything, leave out no details. Just allow bathroom breaks and popcorn, because I have a feeling I’m going to be extremely entertained, and we can’t have my blood sugar dropping too much if you’re one of those people like Rip that takes about ten years to actually finish a story…” He finally took a breath. “I’ll sit.”
“The story…,” I repeated with an embarrassed smile. “To a stranger? And what story? How it’s going with a painfully anal individual under one roof with two kids—”