* * *Jordan hops out of the car, grabs his backpack—something he only has because Sabrina thought to tell Armstrong to fetch it from home—and scurries toward the academy’s column-flanked entrance.
I watch him disappear through the double doors.
“Take me to the office,” I say. “I can’t waste a whole day without making an appearance.”
“You’re the boss,” Armstrong says with a wink in the mirror. “I wondered when you were going back to the captain’s seat. Everything okay, Mr. Heron?”
“Yeah. But playing daddy—” I stop, frowning. I don’t like the sound of that. I’m thirty-one and no parent.
“Boss?” Armstrong glances back.
“Big brother, I mean—” I stop again. Big brothers don’t usually keep younger siblings indefinitely. I struggle to find the damn words. “Okay, playing brother’s keeper to a fourteen-year-old gets draining. I need normalcy, and showing up in person will keep the crew on their toes. I probably won’t stay the whole day. Someone has to be with Jordan after school, and we’re due at the hospital again this evening.”
“I can pick him up and drop him at your office, if you’d like?” Armstrong studies me in the mirror.
Do I really look so frayed?
“No, I’ll be along to pick him up, even if you’re doing the driving.” I’m not treating Jordan the way my old man treated me, like an annoying appendage of his life, tended to only by servants.
Before I know it, we’re downtown, and I’m taking the glassy elevator up to HeronComm.
I pass the creative team’s cave on my way in and stop. Mainly just to check in and make sure everyone’s still working. They look up and stare, a few people waving as I walk past.
Damn. Are they that shocked I took a day off? Or does this have to do with Brina?
At Ruby’s office, I pause and knock on the door.
“Come in!” she calls.
She looks at me like I’ve risen from the dead as I take the seat across from the desk. “Surprise, I’m back. Just for a few hours. How’d it go while I was out?”
“It was a couple days, and a holiday at that. Sabrina remote-managed everything perfectly, but there wasn’t much to manage.” She pauses. “I was worried about you, Mag. I’ve worked here for twenty years. I think I deserve more than a cryptic text the first day you decide to skip work. You didn’t even do it after—”
“I know,” I snap, then lower my voice. “Marissa Quail is in the hospital. I’m keeping Jordan at my place.”
She’s quiet for a minute, her eyes huge.
“Holy crap. Why are you whispering?”
“I don’t want anyone else re-living the scandal that jackass caused. Morale around here doesn’t need to suffer. Besides, I know a few people were here when shit went down, but anyone who wasn’t here for it doesn’t need to know.”
“You didn’t tell your EA?”
I glower, hating how it hits me right between the eyes.
“I told her enough. Brina knows he’s my brother, and my father had a hideous affair. I don’t think she needs to know more than that to do her job.”
Ruby purses her lips. “Maybe not to do the job, but...what’s going on with you two?”
“Excuse me?” I raise a brow, ice water in my veins.
She stares into my eyes with raw sarcasm.
“Seriously, you’re playing dumb? You should hear her. Every time someone says your name, she blushes. Look, I’m not some young chickadee.” She shrugs, twisting her gaudy red lips. “But I’ve been around the block enough times to know what that means—smitten.”
It’s hard not to wince. That word is a slug to the gut.
I think of Brina, blushing at my name, and can’t help the smirk that carves itself into my face.
Ruby doesn’t need to say more. I get the message, loud and clear.
Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.
“Don’t read too much into this. Her mom writes romance novels. Maybe she’s read one too many little red riding secretary and the big bad boss wolf books and has a little crush. So what? You’re the HR Director, not her counselor.”
I stand up and stalk to the door, knowing her mouth is opening with a quip like a missile silo.
“Or mine, Ruby,” I throw back. “So hold your thoughts. Do your job and kindly stay out of it.”* * *Sabrina strolls in from the airline prep meeting a couple hours later.
If you think having had her under me would make me less of a wolf, less eager to see through her clothes to the soft contours of her body, you’d be dead wrong.
She sees me through the frosted glass window between our offices, does a double take, and then waves. I hit a button under my desk and the glass clears its distortion—a cool electronic effect I had custom installed when my office was refurbished.
With a clear view, I beckon her with my hand.