Her bright eyes met mine as she grinned. No one knew better than Catherine how much I loathed blue ink.
My levity quickly faded, and my urge for Catherine to understand why I felt no pity for Donald Rockford propelled me to speak.
“Donald Rockford attempted to buy steel from a manufacturer under investigation after a high-rise constructed with their product collapsed in Shanghai. Over two-hundred people died. Everyone, including him, knew the steel was graded as poor quality and prone to embrittlement. And he went ahead with the deal anyway. It was US Customs that stopped the steel from being imported. If it were up to Donald, he’d take chances with the lives of his future tenants to save a few dollars.”
A few million dollars, to be precise.
Her pale throat bobbed as she swallowed. “Well, I suppose we should thank the Customs agent who prevented that from happening.”
“I suppose we should.”
The elevator doors slid open, and Catherine rushed off, her ponytail swishing against her back. I followed, pushing Donald Rockford from my mind. He’d been the architect of his own demise, leaving him with nothing.
And that was exactly what I felt about his condition.
Nothing.
We were in the back of my limo, being driven to the office. Traffic crawled, taking several minutes to travel a handful of feet. Fortunately, I had my phone and laptop. Catherine was tapping away on her tablet, making efficient use of her time.
Details were important to me. If I missed one number, it could be catastrophic. That was why I didn’t miss numbers. I studied details.
Yet, I’d missed a glaring one.
Catherine was pregnant.
Now that I’d been made aware of it by my smug friends, Weston and Luca, I questioned how I could have missed it. Seated across from me, her round stomach stretched her thin, black sweater to within an inch of its life.
I didn’t like being surprised almost as much as I hated blue ink.
She lifted her eyes from her tablet, catching me studying her. Her head cocked, and she rubbed her lips together. I glanced down at the swell of her belly, and she exhaled.
“Are you ready to have this conversation?” I asked.
“Not really.” Slowly, she lowered her tablet to the seat beside her. “An email would probably be more efficient.”
“We seem to be in the car for the long haul. I’d prefer to make use of our time.” I tapped the window, drawing her attention to the bumper-to-bumper traffic. “Were you planning on giving birth at your desk?”
Her mouth twitched. “That would have been quite an announcement. No, that was never in the cards.”
“Are you coming back after your leave?”
She jolted like I’d shocked her. “Of course I am. I have to work.”
“How will you do this job with a small baby at home?”
Her hands stacked in her lap. “Are you allowed to ask me that?”
“Probably not, but it’s a genuine concern. Will your husband be able to take over childcare while you’re traveling with me?”
She let out a lilting laugh. “Oh, I don’t have a husband.”
I would have been surprised if she’d said she did since her background check hadn’t turned up a marriage. But a lot could change in a little time, so anything was possible.
“Your boyfriend?”
“Same answer.”
For the second time, I was taken aback. The background check had revealed Catherine owned a house in Denver and lived with her partner. Whether they were still together was none of my business, and I was certain she’d tell me exactly that if I asked.
“Do you have a plan?” I pressed.
“You don’t have to worry about my plans, Elliot.”
“I do if it affects your work. Is this”—I outlined the shape of her stomach in the air in front of me—“going to slow you down?”
“Again, are you allowed to ask me that?”
With a heavy sigh, I scrubbed my jaw. This woman was stonewalling me, as always. If she weren’t so fucking efficient while also being unobtrusive and easygoing, I would have fired her for this trait alone.
“Whether I am or not is irrelevant. I’m asking. I need to know what to expect, or I’ll be thinking about it when I should be thinking about far more important things. So, tell me, will your ability to do this job be impaired?”
“No, it hasn’t been so far. You didn’t even notice my pregnancy, did you?”
I didn’t appreciate being called out on my lack of attention to detail. “You wear black most days.”
That, I had noticed. Catherine, in black, at her desk. Catherine, in black, sitting across from me, taking notes. Catherine, in black, meeting me in a hotel lobby. Catherine, in black, curls escaping her sleek ponytail.
My vision had been tunneled by design. Early on in my career, I’d learned not to mix personal with professional. I chose not to focus on the shape of my employees, specifically my assistant.
Catherine grinned, seemingly pleased to have gotten one over on me. “That’s true, but my point is, I’ve handled everything you’ve thrown at me just fine. I’ve never been more pregnant than I am right now so I can’t say for sure, but I predict my ability to assist you won’t be impacted.”
My brow winged. “And if I need to fly to Dubai next month? Will you be able to come with me?”
Her shoulders slumped. “No. I suppose you have me there. As exciting as an airplane birth sounds, my flying days are numbered.”
“An airplane birth sounds exciting to you?”
“No.” She rested a hand on top of her stomach. “Nothing about birth sounds exciting to me, but I’ve almost accepted I must do it.”
“You might have considered the whole birth process before deciding to get pregnant.”
She blew out a puff of air. “Not everyone plans things as thoroughly as you, Elliot. Sometimes they just…happen.”
“I find that’s not true.”
Her eyes half rolled before she caught herself and directed them to a spot over my shoulder.
“I guess I’m not as disciplined as you.”
“Not many are,” I agreed. “When can I expect a replacement to bumble into my life?”
“Are you asking how far along I am?”
I canted my head. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to ask things like that.”
“That didn’t stop you before.”
I opened my hands in my lap. “If it will get me the answer to my question, then yes, I’m asking how far along you are.”
“Thirty-two weeks.”
I blinked at her. “I don’t know what that means.”
“I thought you researched everything.”
“I research topics that interest or impact me.” I tugged on my cuff. “If I had known about this, I would have done some reading. Since I had to hear the news from Luca—”
She shook her head. “I knew he told you. I wonder how long it would have taken you to notice if he hadn’t.”
“We’ll never know.” I eyed her stomach. Her poor sweater would never be the same. She should have bought new clothing that fit. She would certainly have to soon. She’d probably been too busy to take care of it yet, which I understood.