“You’re quite welcome.” I smile as if she actually meant it and wasn’t being a sarcastic prick.
A car turns into the drive and Danielle emerges, opens the back door, and helps a younger child out.
She approaches with a disapproving look. “Ava, you know you’re not supposed to open the door.”
Ava shakes her head, accompanied by an eye roll. “He was hot and I wanted to meet your new boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” the boy asks.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Danielle tells him. “He works for Mommy.”
The small boy walks over with his hand extended. “I’m Parker Bergen.”
“Milo Huxley,” I say as I give him a nice strong shake. “Quite a grip you have there, Parker.”
“Dad said a man is measured by his handshake,” he tells me.
I smile. “Your dad was right.”
I fight back the feelings that start to make their way up around my heart. I will not care that she’s a widow with two kids. My job was taken by her, which means she’s enemy number one. First rule of war is not to have any empathy for the other side.
“Go inside, Parker. I’m going to talk to Milo for a minute about boring work things.”
He nods. “Nice to meet you. I like your accent. It’s like Thor’s!”
I laugh. “Thor wishes he was as bloody cool as I am. I’m more Loki than Thor anyway.”
“So, you’re a bad guy?” he asks.
I decide that yes, I’m most definitely the villain that you can’t help but love. I tell Parker, “I think Loki is misunderstood and has a do-good brother that makes him crazy, don’t you agree?”
Parker purses his lips as he ponders what I said. “I think Loki makes bad choices.”
He would be right again, but since I’m drawing parallels to my own sibling’s life, I feel the need to defend him. “But if Odin didn’t have favorites, Loki wouldn’t need to prove his worth.”
“Well, maybe if Loki didn’t do bad things, he could be the hero,” Parker disagrees.
“How old are you?”
He smiles. “Six.”
Why am I arguing with a child?
“Talk to me when you’re nine.”
He laughs.
“All right then, that’s enough super hero analysis,” Danielle says as she puts her hand on the lad’s shoulder.
Parker looks up with sad eyes and then sighs. “Okay, Mom.”
“Go on inside now,” she reminds him.
“Bye, Milo!”
“Bye, Parker.”
“Sorry about him. He’s really into superheroes and watches them non-stop, reads the comics, and it’s just . . . his whole life. Plus, the kid is a damn genius, so when he finds something, he fixates. Three years ago, it was trains. I swear I knew more about engines and all the different models than I could’ve ever wanted to know, but Parker loved them. So, he’d spend hours educating me and Peter on all the working parts. It was impressive . . . annnd I have no idea why I’m rambling on like this.”
Because she’s falling apart at the seams. “I’m a superhero buff myself. It was nice to meet another person that can keep up. Even more impressive that he’s just a young boy.”
“Anyway, thanks for dropping this off,” she says. “I appreciate it.”
I didn’t have much of a choice, did I? “I’m here to make your job easier,” I reply.
“Sure you are,” she laughs.
“Have I been less than helpful?” I question.
She sighs. “Let’s not play games, Milo. You’re not happy about being my assistant, just the same as I really didn’t want you to be. As you can see, my hands are full, and I would rather us both lay our cards on the table and be real with each other. I don’t have the time or inclination to lie to you.”
Interesting. Time to test that theory.
“If I asked whether or not you planned to step down, you’d say?”
“Not on your life.”
I grin. She’s feisty and I like it.
“Understood,” I reply.
“I need to get inside,” she explains. “Thanks again for dropping off the file.”
I dip my head and wait for her to go inside. I am a gentleman after all.
I get in my car, then sit there pondering when to make my next move.
Women like Danielle are my weakness. I love when there are no games or ulterior motives. Honesty is the best policy and all. It’s going to be sad when she finds herself as my assistant in a few months, because if she doesn’t step down, I’m going to have to take her out.
Chapter Nine
Danielle
Today is a day I wish I could ignore. My mind is scattered, I can’t focus, and each time I close my eyes, I see Peter’s face.
Not the smiling one in the picture that sits on my desk.
Not the man who that morning was laughing and tossing kisses my way.
Instead, I see him as he was at the morgue. Cold, unmoving, and gone.
“Are you hearing a word I’m saying?” Milo asks, snapping his fingers.
“What?”
“Clearly not,” he huffs.
“Sorry, I’m . . . my mind is elsewhere.”
Like on the trial that I’m supposed to be at in an hour. I’m not technically supposed to be here. Callum instructed me to take the week off and focus on the kids, work from home, but I sat there, staring at the wall, and cried.
I made him promise not to tell Nicole it was starting. I don’t want to hear shit from my friends. They have no clue what this feels like. The helplessness that’s eating me alive. I don’t want to hear the testimony. I don’t want to see his face and watch him draw air when Peter isn’t.
“Very professional,” Milo mutters. “Were we going to work today or would you prefer to stop now?”
Fuck him.
“I’m doing my best!” I snap. “I’m here, which is more than I can say about you the last year or so.” I get to my feet, perhaps a bit angrier at him than the situation calls for. “I’m your boss, remember that. You don’t get to be an asshole to me!”
Milo stands with his hands out in front of him. “Okay? I was being sarcastic. But since you brought it up, I was trying to piece my damn life together. My brother ripped the company I helped build from my hands, moved across the ocean—for a girl I might add—and didn’t bother to consider me at all. So, yes, you’re my boss now. How is that for doing your best?”
My heart is racing and I feel as though I’m being ripped in half. All this time I’ve been holding myself together and right now, I don’t think I can anymore. I’m battling wars everywhere and winning none.
This isn’t about him. It’s about me and how he thinks he can just steamroll over me. It’s about how none of this should even be my problem.
“So that entitles you to be a dick?” I scream.
“I’m sorry, but I’m failing to see how calling you professional is being a dick.”
“Because you didn’t mean it!” I continue to yell as Milo stands there with his arms crossed. “You think I’m stupid, huh? Do you think I don’t see that you want to destroy me? Well, guess what? I’m already at the bottom so the only way is up.”
“Are you on drugs?” Milo asks in his thick accent. “Maybe you should take them if you’re not.” He laughs. “I have no idea what you’re so upset about.”
“Everything! You! You being here! My lunatic teenage daughter who is making my life a living hell! And this whole situation—your brother wants to teach you a lesson, and I’m stuck dealing with it.” I look in Milo’s deep green eyes, furious that this has gone so wrong. “None of this was how it was supposed to go. My life was perfect.” I say as my lip begins to tremble. “I should be at home, raising my kids with my husband!”
When I say the last word, a sob rips from my chest and I begin to cry.
Although, it’s not that silent tear kind of cry. It’s the loud, obnoxious, snot streaming kind of cry.
Milo’s arms wrap around me and he holds me to his chest. I grip his lapels and clench, losing control.
“I can’t!” I shake, but Milo tightens his hold. “I can’t go today. I’m not strong enough.”
“Today?” he asks.
“The trial,” I barely get out before the next round of hysteria breaks free.
Milo guides me to the couch and sits me down, and then presses my head to his chest. I don’t think, I take the comfort he offers. I’m too broken to care who is helping. I’m too far out in the sea of grief to swim back to shore.