Chapter 26
Jeremiah
Idrummed my fingers on the surface of my desk, staring at the door that remained closed.
I had been holed up in here all morning, avoiding the possibility of seeing Sadie.
I had assigned her busywork to keep her from coming in here.
I glanced at our shared calendar, seeing that she had already marked off about more than half of the to-do list. She was nothing if not efficient.
I would have to think up some more tasks.
I leaned back in my chair and sighed. I knew I couldn’t stay in here forever.
I was bored as hell in here, especially when I knew who sat just outside the door.
So easily accessible. One glance of an invitation could have her in here and I would be on her in seconds, no one in the office the wiser.
But no. I had told myself that ended after Dallas.
Despite that, I had spent the rest of the weekend forcing myself not to think of her.
Taking to the shower again to relieve myself of the thoughts I had of our time together, instead of simply calling her up to my apartment.
I was trying to commit to the plan of getting back to a solely business relationship between her and me.
But had it ever just been that? Hell, I had slept with her before even knowing she was my personal assistant, already making the waters murky between us.
Maybe Kevin had been right in doubting that I could do this. In not craving what I couldn’t have, but I was intent on proving him wrong.
As I passed by Sadie’s desk this morning, I could feel her mood shift at my coldness.
I felt her expectations of me drop to the bottom of the building, shattering.
It took everything in me not to look at her, inhaling the familiar vanilla scent and feeling her green eyes on me.
I was glad to avoid the hurt I knew was inevitable on her face, though it was hard to know I was the one who put it there.
Shaking my head, I let out a breathy laugh. This wasn’t me. I was Jeremiah Mason. I didn’t care about hurting anyone’s feelings, whether they were a woman I was sleeping with or an employee. Sadie just happened to be both.
Being that she was my personal assistant, though, I couldn’t avoid her forever.
If I wanted to be her boss, then that was what I needed to be.
I couldn’t hide behind my computer screen giving her typed out tasks.
I would have to face her. I would have to get used to her being around and not wanting to fuck her in every corner of my office.
In fact, as I glanced at the clock on the wall, she should be here by now for our beginning of the week calendar review. Was she the one avoiding me now? I felt a flicker of irritation.
I stood up determined, and strode for my door, opening it to find her desk empty.
I frowned at her absence and looked down either side of the hall.
There was no sign of her, and her purse was gone, too.
I could feel my irritation growing. I strode toward the front desk, aware of how Tanya sat up a little straighter at the sound of my footsteps.
She apparently didn’t have to look my way to know I was coming.
No one in the office did. I smoothed the lapel of my suit and cleared my throat.
“Where is Sadie?” I asked, placing my palms on Tanya’s cluttered desk, not caring what I knocked over.
“I-I…she…” She looked up at me, her brown eyes wary.
“She what?” My gaze narrowed.
“She had to go to an appointment,” she stammered.
“I didn’t see anything on her calendar.”
“I think she had one before lunch.”
“So, she’s taking an extended lunch?” I raised a brow.
“No!” she stammered. “She—”
I put my hand up before she could continue annoying me with her uselessness.
I could tell she was covering for Sadie, and doing a piss-poor job at it.
But why was she covering for her? Where was she?
I could feel my temper flaring up, and seeing Tanya look nervously away to avoid my gaze wasn’t helping.
I pushed myself from her desk and slipped my phone from my pocket.
If this woman wouldn’t give me answers, then I would call Sadie and get them myself.
I was just about to press the green send button when the elevator doors slid open and Sadie stepped out.
I saw red. I stormed toward her ready to demand an explanation, but stopped short when I saw her face.
It was as white as the sheets from our hotel room.
She looked up and saw me. Sucking in a breath, her cheeks somehow draining more of color.
I took a deep breath, trying to get my temper in check.
“I need you in my office,” I said firmly, aware that Tanya was watching carefully from her desk. I didn’t need rumors starting around the office, tarnishing my reputation.
Sadie simply nodded slowly before I turned on my heel and walked down the hallway, shooting Tanya a look of irritation, which made her sink into her desk chair even further.
“Clean up your desk,” I said to her sharply.
As I waited in the doorway of my office impatiently, I watched Sadie walk toward me, her steps careful and slow, as if my office were the last place she wanted to be. She finally slipped past me and I shut the door firmly behind her.
“Where the hell were you?” I asked, whirling around.
She just stood there with her back toward me, not saying a word, which further added to my irritation.
“Do you think you can now just take long lunch breaks? Or do whatever the hell you were doing without giving me notice?” I continued. “If you think what happened in Dallas gives you the right, then you are sorely mistaken.”
She stepped in front of the closest chair and slumped into it, her red hair pouring over the back of it.
I jerked my head back in confusion. Now was not the time to ignore me.
I cleared my throat to further rip into her and to demand answers, but she didn’t even flinch at the sound.
It was as if she couldn’t hear me. As if I wasn’t there at all.
The better part of me wanted to bore into her further.
The same part of me that thought it would be easier to be mad at her than to give in to the feelings I had been avoiding since our trip to Dallas.
Really, since the night I met her when I found her in my apartment.
It was easier to be an asshole. Easier to push her away. Just like I did with everyone else.
“Sadie.” I said firmly, trying again.
No reaction.
I took the few steps toward her, rounding the chair and facing her.
She just stared at the floor, wrapping her arms around herself.
Something seemed terribly wrong. The hard parts of me that wanted to push her away gave in to the softer parts that wanted to care for her.
Needed to care for her. Needed to know what was wrong, so I could fix it.
I sighed in defeat. I couldn’t bring myself to come down on her anymore.
I kneeled on the floor in front of her and looked up at her. I put my hand on her knee, desperate for any reaction from her.
“Sadie…” I said warily.
Her eyes finally met mine, and I wished they hadn’t because I could see they were glistening with tears. Some part of me cracked.
“What is it?” I asked softly.
She just shook her head, loose strands of her curled auburn hair falling across her face.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I urged.
Silence.
“Are you hurt?”
Another shake of her head.
“Did you get some sort of bad news?”
Another shake of her head.
I ran through a number of questions as to what would have caused this, even carefully broaching the topic of her ex.
I was seething with anger at the thought of him doing something to her.
But he wasn’t the reason. The entire interrogation, I avoided the one question I couldn’t bear to know the answer to.
If I was the one who had caused her green eyes to be rimmed with tears.
“Please, tell me, Sadie.”
“It’s nothing,” she said, finally speaking. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Obviously, it’s not nothing.” Not getting anywhere, I pulled myself to stand and took the seat next to her.
I looked at her with concern. Even sad, she looked beautiful.
I noted the new skirt and blouse she wore, feeling guilt eat away at me that she had put extra effort in this morning.
The effort I had asked of her. Demanded of her.
And now she sat here, falling apart next to me.
“I can’t tell you,” she said.
“What? Why?” I asked, confused.
She sucked in a breath before letting it out, her words trembling. “Because you’ll hate me even more than you do now.”
Her response took me off guard.
“I don’t hate you,” I said, more of a question than a statement.
She let out a half laugh, half sob before looking at me.
“Sure you don’t,” she said, a touch of sarcasm in her voice as the first tear fell down her face. I resisted the urge to brush it away as she continued. “You hate my shyness. My work ethic. My clothes—well, my old ones anyway. My lack of money.”
“That’s not true,” I exclaimed, sheepishly remembering all the times I had berated her for everything she had just said.
“Yes, it is,” she insisted as more tears fell. “The only thing you like about me is between my legs.”
She wasn’t wrong that I liked that part of her. Loved it even. Craved it. But it wasn’t the only thing I liked about her, despite trying to make it be.
I stayed quiet for a moment, watching her frustratedly wipe her tears away from her cheeks.
My guilt slammed into me like a semi truck, as all the things I had said to her since meeting her poured into my mind.
I had truly been an asshole. The “bosshole” she had rightfully dubbed me as in her phone.
I had slowly chipped away at her already lacking confidence until it was in a pile of rubble.
But that had been before. When we were in Dallas, everything had changed.
I could see her confidence. At our dinner on the roof.
In the way she took charge and took care of me.
During the meeting with Vincent James. Trying on dresses at the mall.
In the back of the town car when she accepted my challenge.
In the way she pleaded for me to fuck her.
I thought the Sadie I had first met was gone, but she was right here again. Because of me.
“I don’t hate you,” I repeated, reaching for her hand which lay limply in her lap. I brushed my thumb softly over her soft knuckles. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. Let me help you.”
She turned and looked me in the eye, her bottom lip trembling.
She pulled her hand from mine before reaching into her purse beside her.
She pulled out a plastic stick and held it in front of me.
I frowned, confused at what I was looking at.
But then as my eyes focused, they read the small digital screen on the stick. The air left my lungs.
Pregnant.