“No. I’m in an extremely bad mood, and it will be in your best interest not to talk to me for the rest of the year. I’m bad company.”
“I seriously doubt that,” she says as she watches me. “Do you need coffee?”
“Yes, please.” I hit my keyboard with force.
She walks to the door and turns back, eyeing me carefully. “Are you okay?”
I type my code in. “Of course I am,” I snap. “I’m always okay.”
She gives me a stifled smile and disappears out the door.
Two minutes later, Fletcher appears at the door and says, “Hey.”
“Hey, Fletch.” I sigh as I gesture to the chair at my desk.
He walks in and takes a seat.
“How was your date?” I ask as I read through my emails.
“Pretty good.”
My eyes flick to him. “How good?”
“Not that good.”
“Fletcher.” I turn back to my emails. “Ignore my previous advice about stepping up to the challenge. Stay the hell away from women altogether. They’re more trouble than they’re worth.”
He frowns. “Why’s that?”
“They just are.” I bash my keyboard again. “Trust me on this one.”
“What do you want me to do today?” he asks.
“We have meetings across town all afternoon. If you can, get started on the preparation for those,” I reply. “Read through the minutes from the last meetings with these particular clients. I want you to know what’s going on when we get there.”
“Okay, sure thing.” He gets up and walks to the door and turns back to me. “Do you know what’s wrong with Mom?”
My eyes rise to meet his. “Why do you ask?”
“Because she sat on the balcony and stared into space for nine hours straight yesterday.”
My stomach drops. I hate the thought of her upset. “I think she’s missing your dad, buddy.” I sigh.
He nods. “Yeah, probably.” He shrugs. “Okay, I’ll get started.”
“Thanks.”
I go back to my emails and stare at the screen. My mind goes back to Friday night.
There I was, sleeping alone on her cement lounge, pining to hold her in my arms.
And she was missing him.
My stomach twists in regret, because I know that no matter what happens between Claire and me . . .
I will never come first. Everyone will always come before me.
And it shouldn’t upset me . . . but it does.