Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“No, I’ll take it,” I said, reaching for the glass. “I’m going down to my office. Can you ask Avery to come and find me as soon as she gets back? It’s urgent.”
She smiled and almost did a little curtsey. I would have chuckled if I hadn’t been so concerned about why Avery was upset. “Certainly. No problem,” she replied.
I headed back downstairs to my office to wait for Avery. She’d be back in less than five minutes, but it wasn’t quick enough. I heard the deck crew tying up the tender and I had to stop myself from bellowing upstairs for her to get a move on. Christ, I was an impatient, unreasonable bastard.
When I finally heard her footsteps on the stairs I took a seat and watched the door, willing it to open.
Avery knocked, then entered when I called for her. I had to clear my throat. I hadn’t imagined it. Her eyes were puffy and red. She’d definitely been crying. I shot to my feet. “Avery.” I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to navigate this situation. This was a woman I wanted to strip naked and kiss head to toe then fuck through to next week, but she was also a woman I didn’t want to see cry. I wanted to make it better for her, whatever was wrong. Before I had the chance to question my own instincts, I’d moved around my desk and pressed the door closed with my palm, locking it with my other hand.
“Sit.”
“Please, I need to go.” Her voice quivered as she set the thick envelope of papers on my desk. “I have a lot to do.”
“Sit,” I repeated, and she relented, sinking into the chair, her limbs heavy and her eyes sad. I leaned against the desk, our legs almost touching. “What is it?”
“I have to organize lunch,” she said. “Then—”
“Please don’t make me repeat myself. Why are you upset?”
She took in a deep, jagged breath and shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
I didn’t reply but I wasn’t going to be fobbed off. She was going to tell me what was wrong and then I was going to fix it.
She wrung her hands and avoided my gaze, but I stayed silent, despite the way my muscles twitched, desperate for action. I wanted her to talk to me.
Eventually she spoke. “My father was taken to the emergency room last night.”
Shit. I clenched my hands, wanting to reach out and touch her, but after last night, I didn’t know where we stood, what I should do. I just knew that I wanted to do something—anything—to soothe her pain.
“He’s okay. They thought it might be a heart attack, but apparently it wasn’t. They’re doing tests.” She glanced up at me, her face filled with sadness, and I hated myself for not being able to fix it immediately. I wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her everything was going to be okay, but I couldn’t make this better for her. Wealth and power meant nothing in a situation like this. “Jesus, I’m sorry. Do you need to leave?”
She exhaled. “God, my father would never forgive me. He’s . . . a proud man. Would hate for me to make a fuss.” She shook her head. “He only accepts the money I send for Michael’s sake. No doubt he’s making the nurses’ lives hell at this precise moment.”
It wasn’t enough information. Did her dad have a heart condition already?
“My aunt is staying with my brother.”
Where was her mum? I didn’t ask in case she got more upset. Thinking back, Avery hadn’t mentioned her at all.
She pressed her palm against her forehead, as if trying to cool herself, and I found myself wanting to be that momentary relief for her. “I should have seen this coming. He’s getting older and it’s too much for him to be working and looking after my brother. But trying to get either of them to accept a caregiver when my dad’s at home is impossible. My dad says he doesn’t like strangers in his house when he’s there.”
I reached for her, my need to provide her with comfort overwhelming, but she recoiled and stood, shaking her head. “Don’t,” she said sharply and then looked away as if her own tone had shocked her.
“We can’t. We never should have in the first place.” Her voice started to falter again. “I’ll have to insist my dad accepts more help.” Her gaze flitted about the room as if she were going through her options, making a plan. “We’ll need more money. Maybe even a full-time nurse.”
She looked me straight in the eye. “My job is more important than ever. I should never have—last night—I just can’t.”
A dull ache looped in my stomach. It was unfamiliar. I couldn’t remember a time when a woman had evoked that feeling in me, as if I was missing out on something by not having her close, by not knowing her.