Page 18 of Falling for my Single Dad Boss

Sasha drifts off quickly after I get her cleaned up and in her pajamas. When she's completely out, I get up and plant a kiss on her forehead before leaving the room.

I stretch as I wander down the hall to my room, rubbing my eyes as exhaustion overtakes me. It was a long night, and I feel bad about leaving Harper alone with my parents to clean up, but a tired child is a dangerous thing. I take out my phone and send her a quick text, trying to be as thankful as I can without getting too familiar.

Me: Hey. Just wanted to say thank you for staying and helping. Sorry for ditching you.

It only takes a few seconds for my phone to buzz in my hand.

Harper: No need to apologize! I always stick around after their parties to help out. I had a great time with Sasha. She's a doll.

I'm touched by Harper's affirming response. Maybe I always knew she was special. Maybe that’s why I had a crush on her. I was just too young to act the way I should have. Regret gnaws at me from deep in my chest. She didn’t deserve the way I treated her, no matter how much her competitive spirit annoyed me. But there's no coming back from the things we've said and done to each other. We can't just put that aside and press restart.

With a heavy sigh, I toss the phone on the side table and plug it into the charger. Before I can change my mind, I turn off the light, and slide into my bed.

I'm so restless tonight. My mind is working overtime, tossing memories back and forth. Like the time senior year when she and some other girls ambushed me as I was walking to my car. Her face was a picture of disgust as she confronted me aboutcheating on a test, leaving her with the second-highest score in the class. She kept that chipper tone and endless smile on her face as she lectured me about being honest.

She pointed out how much it could impact my future just as much as it could hers. Of course, she wasn't wrong, but at the time it felt so condescending, like she was only complaining because she got bested by me. Looking back, I wonder if I got it all wrong. Maybe she was just worried about me, too. It seems like I misjudged a lot of things back then, to be honest.

I relive years' worth of memories. Some leave me with guilt over the terrible treatment I gave her, and some with frustration because at times she retaliated. We competed over everything. Who got better grades, who could run faster in track and field practice, and who could get into the best college.

The difference was I worked hard for everything, and it seemed so easy for her. No matter how hard I studied, she somehow managed to stay ahead of me most of the time. When I did trump her, I made sure to let her know. I thought it would make me feel better, but of course it didn't.

When her parents were in that accident just before graduation, I wondered if I would ever see her again. She completely shut down. We never really spoke at our graduation ceremony, which was my fault, and then she just vanished. I never did check on her before I took off for college, but my parents visited her to bring food and company. I heard she got accepted into lots of prestigious colleges but couldn’t afford them. My parents gave her a job at the resort while she worked her way through community college and just sort of stuck around.

Staring at my ceiling, my thoughts go back and forth. I try to tell myself I was justified. After all, she wasn't the nicest person. Well, she was nice, actually, just not to me. But that was on me. If I just hadn’t let our rivalry get to me, it could have been different. If I had told her how I actually felt about her, reachedout to her when she needed someone… But I didn't. I can't rewrite the past so I'll always be left wondering what could have been.

Chapter nine

HARPER

"What do you think of this version? Do you like the font?"

Deacon pushes his hand through his hair for the twentieth time and chews on the end of his pen. He presses a thumb to his bottom lip as his gray eyes flick across the screen of his laptop. It's seven o'clock, and we should have left by now, but this guy is just as much of a perfectionist as I am. Put the two of us together and nothing ever gets done. It doesn’t help that he’s been a bit grumpy since eight o’clock this morning.

"The font's fine, but, is that? Who is that?" His eyes narrow in confusion. "Is that me?"

"No!" I press my fingers to my chest, exaggerating how stunned I am. "Why would you be in the design?"

He smiles, the first time I've seen his teeth all day. It lights up his face, bringing life to the glaciers in his eyes. "I mean, it looks a lot like me, because it's me."

"Oh yeah, it definitely is." I laugh. I found an old picture of Deacon from high school and photoshopped it into one of ourdigital ads this afternoon. I needed something to make him laugh.

When Deacon's face breaks out into a real smile, my stomach twists into a knot. It's like someone flipped the switch and that perfect face, usually tightened with tension, lights up. In this position, bent slightly over his desk, he takes up half the space, and his massive shoulders rise and fall in a silent chuckle. His tan skin is striking against the stark white of his linen shirt. And when he looks up at me with those gun-metal eyes, I feel my resolve waver.

I watch his eyes sparkle at the joke, and my heartbeat spikes. There's no doubt he's attractive and has charm, and it makes him even more insufferable. I've known that since high school. As his attention turned toward me back then, the pressure to live up to his expectations only intensified, and I threw myself even harder into everything. This time really isn't much different, except I don't have the attitude that I have to prove anything to him. Not anymore.

"But seriously." He stabs a big thumb on the design in question. "I mean, I can see why you'd want to use that handsome fella with the amazing mullet, but feel free to swap it out."

"He does looks pretty good." I lean over him and scroll down, making sure every link works and our contact information is updated. "But, yes, maybe I'll go back to the original model."

Based on the numbers we’ve received from tracking the phone calls, we’re working hard to finalize the adjustments in the advertisements and new placement areas. We may have been a little overly ambitious when assigning the deadline. We’ve pushed hard to get the project done in time, and now that it's almost here, it's crunch time. We're working on last-minute changes to the presentation and marketing materials. With only one week until launch, things need to be perfect.

The elevator dings, and a man steps out carrying the pizza I ordered. I practically jump the poor guy to get to the food. After settling the bill, I grab a piece and start shoveling it in as I head back to my office with it. I didn't realize just how hungry I was.

Deacon turns at the sound of the box thumping down on the counter and heads my way. I feel a bit of grease making its way down my chin. I'm just about to wipe it with the back of my hand when Deacon grabs a napkin and moves in to dab it for me.

He catches me off guard, and I take a quick step back. "Oh, sorry." He looks embarrassed. "Single dad force of habit, I guess. I see something running down a chin, I go after it."

"Oh, um, no problem, you may have saved me from a stain, so all good." Whew, calm. We are staying calm. He didn't mean anything by it. We are two people who are able to get along while working together, that's it.

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