“If you ended it ugly and then you give her severance for quitting, she’s going to be justifiably pissed. If you’re after an olive branch, this isn’t it.”
“Why would she be upset that I gave her something?” I ask, scowling.
Ruby laughs. “You’re such a guy. A severance package isn’t flowers or jewelry or an apology. It’s a kiss-off, and not a very nice one.”
“Bull. She can’t pay her rent with trinkets or words.”
Ruby looks at me.
“You know, I’m starting to see how a billionaire with abs stays single.”
“What the hell would you do then?” I roll my eyes right out of my head.
“If you’re asking your HR Director...you apologize. Then if anyone asks for a reference, keep it honest and glowing, but leave out the part where she abruptly quit. If you’re asking your friend, you still apologize for being a raging asshole. Next, you swallow your pride and make things right with your girl.”
Damn her to infinity.
She’s so right it hurts worse than another scorch-mark slap to the face.
“Ruby, I need to let it go,” I whisper, hating how fucking frayed I sound.
She shrugs. “It’s not my call. I’m just mad I have to replace an amazing EA.”
That evening, I storm into the car and throw my briefcase down. We’re already moving before I realize Armstrong’s usually warm greeting isn’t there.
“How’s it going?” I ask, looking up to meet his eyes in the mirror.
“Fine, sir.”
He’s not fine.
The drive home passes in grim silence. I get the feeling that he, too, would love to smack me upside the head with Ruby’s damnable smart stick.
I don’t care.
By the time he pulls up to my building, he still hasn’t said more than two words.
I put my hand on the door handle, ready to get out of the car, when Brina’s face pops into my head.
Is he still driving her around? I don’t want Sabrina lingering around bus stops after what happened to Marissa. If anything happened to her, I’d be tainted forever.
“Listen, starting today, I want you to check in with Miss Bristol to see if she needs a ride anywhere,” I tell him.
“No need, sir. Brina bought a car.”
“She—what?” My next words catch in my throat.
That speaks volumes. She’s truly done with me. And why in blazes am I hearing about Sabrina’s car purchase from my driver?
Because you told her to get lost in a hospital, you dumb fucking moose.
“Good. She’ll be back soon since she has a car payment now,” I say absentmindedly.
“She paid cash,” Armstrong tells me with a sigh. “I was there to help.”
Lovely. Now, not only do I suspect he thinks I’m a fool, I get the distinct feeling Armstrong is on her side.
“If she bought a cash car, is it safe?” That’s the question I ask, but what I really mean is, should I have the damn thing towed for repairs and then returned?
“I made sure it was, boss. Someone has to care for the girl.”
Yep. Suspicions confirmed. Armstrong has flipped.
Traitor.
“What did she say to you?” I growl out. “About me? About us?”
He looks into the rearview mirror so he can glare at me without turning his head.
“She didn’t have to say anything. When a woman climbs into a car sobbing and demands to go to an apartment she hasn’t slept at in weeks, you don’t have to be a love doctor to figure that one out. Now if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Heron, we’re starting to cause a backup...”
“Of course.” I exit the car with a sigh and head upstairs to my empty home.
I pace around the kitchen and reach for a scotch bottle, sloshing some out on the counter. Then I walk back to the sunroom, but stop short at the room Jordan stayed in.
All of his stuff is still here, left behind without answers.
I’ve been sucker punched.
My bastard father kidnapped my little brother. School isn’t out for another three months.
He’s going to ruin this kid’s life, and it’s all my fault.
If I hadn’t lied, if I’d told him the truth about the devil who made us both, he might’ve listened to me at the hospital.
Also, I miss him.
Goddammit, I do.
He was a good kid. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he realized that dirty old man proved I lied to him.
Idiot. I resist the urge to jump off my wrapped balcony.
“I’ll make this right somehow, J-man,” I whisper to my own reflection.
I wish I knew how.
Moving into the sunroom, I stare out at downtown Chicago with its silvery lights twinkling like tinsel. The penthouse has never felt so empty, so cold.
The worst part is, someone else is alone tonight because of my fuck-ups. I should probably visit her, only I don’t have the guts to tell her I let her son leave with the man who defiled her life.
I down the scotch and then go back to the kitchen for a few more fingers.
When the second drink is gone, I change clothes, brush my teeth, and fall into bed. Sleep doesn’t come.
It’s too early for me. I’m only home because I couldn’t focus, and because my inbox is an overflowing sewer.
Worse, I’m so addicted to Brina’s body snug against mine that I can’t sleep without her now.
My duvet still smells like cinnamon and vanilla and more sex I wish we’d had, and so do my pillows. This has to be remedied.
I grab my phone and text Ruby. Order me a new duvet, pillows, shams, sheets, the works. Don’t care what it looks like. Tip yourself twenty percent.
A second later, she replies.
Yeah, no. It’s way too late for you to be texting me about your personal issues. I’m not your EA. I’m not even sure this is an appropriate task for an assistant. Stop being an ass in a top hat and beg her to come back to work.
Magnus: Without sleep I’ll be harder to deal with.
Ruby: Sounds like a you problem.
Savage. I remember when my employees used to be scared of me.
Maybe she’s right, though. Maybe I should beg Sabrina to keep her job.
I pull up her contact and start typing.
How are you? How’s it going? Are you okay?
You had Armstrong help you buy a car?
Did you have to tell me to lose your fucking number? Brina, I’ve never needed you more.
I can’t bring myself to hit send on any of these trash messages.
Nothing I type seems right, and I’m not about to admit that I need her. That I’m dying without her, and I can’t do something as simple as sleep without her, or as complicated as running my own company.
Magnus Heron, you have fucked this up.
I stalk her LinkedIn profile. It says she works at HeronComm. Maybe, if she isn’t already pounding the pavement after a new job, she’ll come back.
Right. She had to be talked into taking my job.
I scan her social profiles next. She’s posting her mom’s books and watching movies with Paige.
She’s fine.
I’m not.
I text Ruby again. Where are we at on the search for the new EA? I don’t think she’s coming back.
Ruby: I drafted the ads today. They’ll go up tomorrow. She said that?