His Temporary Assistant

My only commitment was to my job. It was a pledge I’d made years ago to my father. My family’s legacy was this firm, and for the last few years, I’d been the one doing the bulk of the work. As my dad neared retirement, I was poised to take over. And I couldn’t do that at this level and have a relationship.

Or a life.

“Preston?” My mom snapped her fingers to get my attention. “I won’t disappear if you don’t answer me.”

“I’m swamped.” It was an easy lie, and reaching for one was yet another thing I didn’t do before this week.

“You always are. But you don’t usually have that look in your eyes.” She didn’t move away as she usually did to take one of the chairs opposite my desk. “What is it?”

When I didn’t respond, she brushed my hair back from my forehead as she had when I was a child. And for the first time in more years than I could remember, I wanted nothing more than to lay my head on her chest and pretend everything was all right. That the world was predictable and safe and my parents would never let anything hurt me.

That they wouldn’t be the ones doing the hurting.

“I bet I know.” She angled her head to examine my face. “Your new assistant is one of a kind.”

I laughed. I wasn’t even sure why. She’d nailed Ryan succinctly. “Temporary.”

“Oh, she was quick to tell me that too. She’s a friend of April’s, she said.”

“Yes.”

“Is she the reason you’re barricaded in here?”

“Who says I am?”

“Your door is shut, your blinds closed all the way. You’re not answering phone calls, personal or business.” She walked around my desk to pick up the pulled out phone cord. “This explains it.”

I rose to go to the wall of windows at my back. When I first moved into this office seven years ago, I’d been drawn to them many times throughout the day. Instead of looking down at the cars chugging along the city streets below, I’d always looked upward. The sun and sky were my touchstones.

It wouldn’t stay dark forever. It never did.

Now I rarely remembered to look out. To look up and watch the shifting sunlight as it emerged from behind the clouds.

Work was more important. I was always racing for an invisible finish line I would never quite reach.

I glanced at my watch. Almost noon. “Mom, I have an appointment at one with a client. I appreciate the visit, but—”

“You don’t have time.” She was already making herself tea, so she had no intention of leaving me in peace anytime soon.

Nudging her along had been a knee-jerk reaction. Her weekly visits for lunch were a bright spot in a hell of a lot of hectic mornings and long afternoons. My mother was quirky and a little kooky and frequently made me crazy. She also made me laugh.

Much like someone else I knew. I didn’t know her at all really, but I wanted to.

I wanted far too much.

“I really wish I did.”

“You know, you have choices.”

“What?”

She shook her head and returned with her hot cup of water and teabag to sit across from my desk. “You’re thirty-four years old, Preston. Thirty-five soon enough.”

I clamped a hand on the back of my neck. Tight, throbbing muscles were a mainstay for me, and today was no exception. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“You have no social life. You don’t date. Don’t have pets. For God’s sake, you don’t even have a plant.”

“It died,” I said shortly.