No sooner had the title flashed onscreen when her phone rang.
With a groan, she closed her eyes. Only one person in her contacts was assigned that particular ringtone.
She could let it go to voicemail. The thought did cross her mind. But then he’d only call again. And again. She knew how he got when he first started on a project.
She set her dinner on the coffee table and dashed for her bag. Fishing her phone from the depths of her purse, she tapped the answer button.
“Have you seen how much flowers for a wedding cost? Do you think we can grow our own?”
A smile touched her lips at the joking words. Hauling her bag along with her, she flopped back down on the sofa. “In a month? No. I’m not turning my office into your own personal greenhouse.”
“I suppose we’ll have to just write a check then.”
She bit back a grin. “That gets my vote.”
“There are a million articles to read on the internet.”
Allison cradled the phone against her ear, then pulled her laptop from her bag and turned it on. “I know. I’ve already bookmarked a few dozen we should skim.”
“I think we should clear my schedule for the next month. Anything that can be pushed, do it.”
Allison rolled her eyes. What did he think she’d been doing with her afternoon? “I’ve got you down to just the basics. Anything pertaining to the Sterling acquisition or the most important meetings you need to take for the company.”
“There aren’t enough hours in the day.”
Exactly why I want out, she mused. Once she quit, she wouldn’t have any more of these late night phone calls. No more impossible tasks to fill her waking hours.
“Any particular reason you are calling, Darian?”
“Just feeling…”
“Overwhelmed,” she put in. “I told you a wedding planner would make our lives easier.”
“We can handle it. What are you doing?”
“Eating dinner.” She reached for her sandwich. No way would she let the cheese get cold.
“It’s nine thirty.”
“I was with you till an hour ago. I don’t survive on light and air, you know.”
His soft chuckle sounded through the phone, wrapping around her in the still apartment. “You should have just stayed here. We could have gotten Thai.”
“There’s only so much Panang Gai a girl can eat.”
“Could have fooled me.”
Swallowing a bite, she shook her head. “I’ll have you know I actually cooked tonight.”
Turning on the stove top counted, right? There was a pan in her sink to prove it.
“Grilled cheese or spaghetti?”
Dammit, he knew her too well. “All right, you win. What are you doing?”
“Just got in.”
Her chewing slowed. Despite their abnormally close relationship, she hadn’t seen much of his home. Oh, she’d dropped off contracts or files every now and then, but she’d rarely been invited across the threshold. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d even made it to the living room. Darian was a private man who liked to keep business out of his off hours. And she didn’t blame him. It wasn’t as if she’d ever invited him over to her place for dinner, either. They might work all hours of the day together, but they usually did it in the confines of his office.
Pushing to her feet, sandwich in one hand, she wandered around the small space of her one-bedroom apartment. From what she’d seen of his sweeping home, they lived in very different worlds. She’d been thrilled to find a place to rent that wasn’t a studio layout, while Darian’s home boasted rooms bigger than her whole apartment.
She regarded her open concept living room, seeing from the kitchenette to the sliding door that led to her small balcony. It was a cozy space. Lived in. Warm. Darian’s home hadn’t held the same feeling, and she couldn’t help but wonder why.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
His voice purred in her ear. A reminder that she shouldn’t be wool gathering over silly notions like prying into his private life.
“Sorry. I was just—”
“Enjoying your down time. I’m sorry I interrupted.”
She should be, too. Except it was rather nice to have someone to talk to. Hell, maybe she needed to get a cat to keep her company. Or a goldfish. Work her way up.
“I don’t mind,” she said, even though she knew she should be drawing the line. Making it a point that she was off the clock.
“Thank you,” he said. “For today. I really do appreciate you helping me with this.”
She closed her eyes. “How could I say no?”
His soft chuckle filled her ears. “You are my one in a million, Ali.”
I’m not your anything, she thought with a touch more melancholy than she’d ever admit to.
“But I shouldn’t intrude on your home time. Forgive me, I shouldn’t have called.”
She heard the shift in his voice, from relaxed to business in the blink of an eye, and stifled a sigh. “I’ll email you some of the more pertinent articles tomorrow and we can go from there.”
“Excellent.” He paused.
She returned to the couch, reaching for her wine.
“Thanks again. I owe you one.”
Her fingers froze on the glass stem. “I’m sure I’ll think of something,” she said, the pit in her stomach tightening.
Tell him. Tell him about the letter. Tell him you want out.
The words were impossible to vocalize.
“Sleep well.”
She closed her eyes, enjoying the way his voice rolled out into the air around her. “And you.”
The call ended and she let the phone drop onto the cushions beside her, her request to leave still unvoiced.
He’s just my boss, she told herself. So what if she felt like smiling just because he’d checked in on her? It was a perfectly normal reaction to someone being nice.
Except one phone call from Darian had her feeling more butterflies than the last date she’d been on.
“Dammit,” she sighed, lolling her head against the back of the couch. “He’s not my type.”
Maybe if she said it enough times the words would start to ring true.
…
He shouldn’t have called.
Darian sighed, running his hand down his face. What was wrong with him? Sentimentality wasn’t in his nature. Today was no different from any other day. Jenny getting married shouldn’t send him running to his assistant for…
What exactly? Companionship? Comfort? That wasn’t her job, and he needed to remember it. Some lines shouldn’t ever be blurred.
He couldn’t afford to make mistakes with Allison. He’d never sacrifice what they had.
She’s too important for that.
Too necessary. He needed to keep things professional.
But when he’d come home to his dark, empty house he’d had an uncharacteristic pang of discontent.
Jenny was getting on with her life and starting a family. The closest thing he had to a stable relationship was with a woman he paid to assist him.
“Get it together,” he told himself, striding through his living room. The house was too big for one person. In all honesty, he should have put it on the market years ago.