Fuck.
I knew I could buy him his own place—the money wasn’t an issue—but there was his sensitivity to consider. He’d probably feel like I was blowing him off. After all, he had a serious illness. I was the least emotional man I knew, but I understood my dad was different. And if he stayed here, I could keep an eye on things. Help get his financial situation under control and make sure he was getting the best medical treatment possible.
I took a deep breath. “You’ll stay here. You can have the second master suite.” At least that was at the opposite end of the condo from my bedroom.
Dad’s face broke into a wide smile. “Thank you, son. You don’t know how much I appreciate this. It’s going to make the next few months so much easier.”
“Sure, Dad.” I got up and took my mug to the kitchen. “Do you need me to arrange movers or do you have that covered?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Dad said. “Are you sure about this? Do you need to talk to your girlfriend first?”
“Girlfriend?” Ethan asked.
Dad smiled again. “I had the pleasure of meeting Shepherd’s girlfriend, Everly, last night. I wish you could have been there, Ethan. She’s lovely. I bet she keeps you on your toes, eh, son?”
I avoided Ethan’s gaze. “Yes, she does. And I’m sure she won’t mind.”
“I think she’ll get along well with Svetlana.” Dad winked at Ethan. “I met the most extraordinary woman recently. I’ve been seeing a lot of her.”
“That’s what Shep told me,” Ethan said, shooting me another don’t you dare say anything look. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“We’ll all have dinner soon,” Dad said. “You can bring Grant, and Shepherd will bring Everly.”
Oh my god. I had to get out of here. “Now that we have things worked out, I have work to do. You two stay as long as you want.”
I left them sitting at the table and went back to my office, closing the door with a soft click.
What a nightmare. I opened my laptop and did a search on prostate cancer. Spent some time getting caught up on the disease and the latest treatments. I’d find out who his doctor was to ensure he was in fact getting the best care. Maybe go with him to his next appointment so I could get more information on his specific case. I needed to be sure he didn’t need a second opinion. Prostate cancer wasn’t usually deadly, but I didn’t want to leave anything to chance.
Leaning back in my chair, I rubbed my chin. It was disconcerting to hear my dad was ill, but at least his prognosis was good.
But there was still the problem of him moving in. Without Svetlana complicating matters, that would have been a minor inconvenience. However, she was complicating matters. I could simply choose to spend as much time away as possible while Dad was living here. But I didn’t like the idea of Svetlana having unfettered access to my home. Which meant she and I would be here together, under the same roof.
She was going to realize rather quickly that I wasn’t dating Everly.
Unless… I tipped my fingertips together beneath my chin. Unless I continued the ruse that I was dating Everly. Could I somehow make that work?
I ran a multi-billion-dollar corporation. I made complicated business deals every day. I was sure I could come to an arrangement with my assistant. It was only for a few months.
And Everly was perfect.
8
Everly
Monday morning began as it always did. I arrived on my floor and made my way past cubicles and offices, saying hi to my coworkers. Smiling. Asking them if they’d had a good weekend or wishing them good morning. Steve had another story about his cat, which I listened to attentively.
Nothing unusual at all.
I glanced at the clock as I went about my usual Monday morning tasks. Eight twenty-two. He’d be here in five minutes.
My heart beat a little faster than it should, and a tingle of nervousness made my belly feel jumpy. I got Mr. Calloway’s coffee, double-checked his schedule, made sure I had everything in order.
And tried very hard not to let my thoughts drift back to the feel of his hand on my lower back. Or on my arm. Or how his voice had sounded saying my name.
Knock it off, Everly. That might as well have been a dream.
Yes, a dream. He had been a dream. So dreamy in that tux.
God, I was doing it again.
The clock changed to eight twenty-seven and the elevator door opened.
Mr. Calloway walked down the hallway, dressed in his suit. He had his phone out, and he flicked his thumb across the screen as he made his way toward my desk. I grabbed his coffee and stood, ready to follow him into his office.
Nothing unusual. It was just another Monday.
He turned the corner at my desk, and just as I was about to fall in step behind him, he stopped. Looked up from his phone and met my eyes. “Good morning, Everly.”
“Good morning,” I managed to croak through my shock.
Steve looked like he’d just witnessed a miracle. Or maybe a murder. His eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open.
I shrugged at Steve, suddenly remembering I was holding Shepherd’s—no, Mr. Calloway’s—coffee. I held it away from me so I wouldn’t spill it on my clothes if it sloshed out through the opening in the lid. Wincing, I hustled into Mr. Calloway’s office.
He set his briefcase down and I put the coffee on his desk. I turned to take his jacket from him, but he wasn’t there. He was standing next to the coat tree, hanging it up himself. What was he doing?
This wasn’t a problem. He could hang up his own jacket. No big deal. I took the remote for the blinds and opened them. He took a seat at his desk.
Good. Back to normal.
“Close the door,” he said.
I froze. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked me to close the door so we could meet in private. As his assistant, I was often privy to confidential information. But there was something about his tone. And the way he was messing with our routine had me so off-kilter, I didn’t know which way was up.
He glanced up and raised his eyebrows.
“Right.” I shut the door. “Sorry.”
“Have a seat.”
“I’m sorry Mr. Calloway, but I’m not prepared for a meeting. I don’t have a way to take notes.”
“Everly,” he said, a slight edge to his tone. “Just sit.”
I walked around to the other side of his desk and slowly lowered myself into one of the chairs.
He sat back and pitched his fingers together. “Are you single?”
The question was so unexpected, it took me a full five seconds before I could collect myself enough to answer. “Um… single? Yes, but—”
“Hear me out,” he said, cutting me off. “I find myself in a difficult situation. You met my father on Friday and saw who he was with.”
“Yes…”
“It turns out my father has bigger problems than Svetlana.”
“Worse than that harpy?” I asked, then clicked my mouth shut. Oh my god, why had I said that? I hadn’t even been drinking.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Yes, worse than… the harpy. He’s been diagnosed with cancer.”
“Oh, Shepherd, I’m so sorry.” I shut my mouth again, realizing I’d just called him Shepherd. What the hell was wrong with me? One evening in a red dress with my boss, and suddenly I’d lost control of my mouth.