“You don’t need a diet.”
“Psh, you don’t see me naked.”
She frowns at her cookie, as if she didn’t mean to say that, and I sit next to her, at the head of the table.
I’d love to see you naked, sweetheart.
But that seems like something she could sue me for, so I keep it to myself and reach for a chocolate chip cookie.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Maggie, Quinn and Finn’s mom.
“Hello, dear,” she says when she answers.
“I’m just checking in on you and Gabby.”
“Oh, we’re right as rain. Just hunkered down, watching TV and eating some chili. Did you make it home okay?”
“No, I’m at work for the night.”
“Well, don’t worry about our Gabby girl. She’s fine here.”
“Thanks, Maggie. I’ll call her before bedtime.”
“You’re welcome. Good night.”
I hang up and reach for another cookie. “Thank God for Maggie.”
“I like her,” Nora says with a nod. “She’s a kick in the pants, and Gabby sure loves being with her. I’m so glad the doctor figured out her medication issues earlier this year.”
Maggie was on medicine that was giving her side effects that resembled dementia. But now she’s on the right medicine and doing much better.
“Me, too. Scared us all.”
We’re quiet for a moment as we eat our cookies and listen to the wind howl outside.
“I hope the power doesn’t go out,” she says.
“Are you afraid of the dark?”
“Not really, I just don’t want to lose internet. Something tells me we’ll be streaming movies for entertainment tonight.”
“You have a point.” I snatch up the rest of the cookies, grab the basket of chips, and gesture toward my office. “Speaking of which, why don’t we go back to my office where it’s more comfortable.”
“Okay.”
I follow her down the hall, watching as her ass sways as she walks, her calves flex with the push and pull in those heels.
Jesus, she’s beautiful. And I’m here, alone, with her all night.
It’s going to kill me.
Chapter Three
~Nora~
“I’ve eaten my weight in cookies.” I lean back on the couch and pat my belly. “This is every seven-year-old’s dream.”
“If I ever see another Ruffle in my lifetime, it’ll be too soon.”
He’s watching me from across the couch. He took off his tie and unfastened the top two buttons of his white shirt. His hair is messy, and he has the beginnings of dark stubble on his face.
I kick off my heels and sigh in relief. They don’t usually bother me, but after sixteen hours of being trapped in them, my feet are begging for mercy.
“I called my mother today,” Carter says with a sigh. He suddenly looks tired as he rubs his eyes with his fingers. “That went as well as expected.”
“I’m sorry.”
I’ve never met Carter’s family, but I’ve had to take a few calls from them over the years. No one would use the phrase warm and fuzzy when describing his folks. I don’t know the history there, but from what I gather, it’s not good.
“It is what it is,” he says and shrugs one shoulder. “Are you close to your family? Why don’t I know anything about them?”
I smile. “Because I’m your assistant.”
“But you know about my family.”
“Bits and pieces,” I concede. “But not everything. To answer your question, no. I’m not close with my family. I’m an only child.”
This piques his interest, and he turns toward me more fully, pulling one leg on the cushion and bracing his head on his hand, his elbow planted on the back of the couch.
“Me, too,” he says softly.
“I guess you could say my parents don’t exactly agree with my life choices,” I continue, and he nods, as if he completely understands.
“My parents didn’t like Darcy, and they hate that I became an attorney.”
“Wait. Your parents hate that their only son became an übersuccessful lawyer in New York City?”
“I was supposed to be a surgeon, like my father and his father before him.”
“Ah. You strayed.”
“Big-time,” he agrees. “And Darcy didn’t come from an influential southern family, so she was immediately unlikable.”
“Well, that sucks, and it’s their loss.”
“That’s what I think, too.” He smiles kindly. “Do your parents not approve of you working for an übersuccessful attorney in New York City?”
I lean my head back on the couch, thinking it over. “It’s not that. I know they’d rather I was home in Cleveland, but living here doesn’t really bother them.”
“What is it, then?”
“Oh, they hate that I divorced Richard.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Why?”
“Because divorce is a no-no in my family. I should have been a dutiful wife and sucked it up. But eff that. Life’s too short to suck it up.”
“You’re completely right,” he agrees and clears his throat. “Are you back in the dating game yet?”
I shake my head slowly. “Who has time to date when you work for an übersuccessful attorney?”
“Or are an attorney,” he mutters.