Page 23 of Never Say Yes To Your Boss

The intensity of that feeling surprises me. I don’t just mean Heather and having a talk with her about her treatments and doctors in order to offer her the best medical care I can, but I mean Everleigh as well. I have a deep-seated need in me all of a sudden to make sure she’s happy.

Although maybe it’s not so sudden.

This is getting weird.

Hans peers into the cage and lets out a low hum. “Hello, there, beastie.” The cat answers back with a feral yell, and a black paw with razor-sharp claws darts out from the slats on the cage door. “Ooohhohhh there, the wee beastie likes me, I can tell.” I’m not even sure what part of the world that’s supposed to be from.

Heather giggles again. She blinks at Hans, and now there’s the slightest flush at the base of her throat. I think she might like the accents thing. Or maybe it’s him. I don’t know. Hans is intimidating at first, but he grows on you, he really does.

After a tour of the house, which includes dropping off the hot devil cat from hell—it is actually a cow-looking cat and not all black like its leg and paw indicated—we end up in the library. Everleigh wanted to save that room for last. I think it might be her favorite. She spends a lot of time here when I’m working, which is often because I made work my entire life before I had a visitor in my house. That might have more to do with why I’m unmarried than my shoulder problem and the fact that I can’t get in a vehicle. Maybe. Kind of.

I’m just glad that in here, it’s relatively silent, and the hounds of hell, or rather, just one small cat, isn’t caged and hissing bloody cat murder and making inhumane noises anymore. That thing puts the cat in caterwauling. Big time.

“How was it this time?” Everleigh asks Heather. They’re seated on the same vintage sofa together. Everleigh’s mom is sitting with Hans on the other, and I chose a big wingback chair. It’s the kind of thing that is nice and good for brooding, and Hans would probably say it suits me perfectly, even if I’m not as much of a broody bastard as most people would think. “You barely talked about it yesterday when you and Mom got home.”

“It was okay,” Heather says. She’s trying to reassure her sister with her smile and a tight hand squeeze to show she’s okay. “The first one was the scariest because I had no idea what to expect, but it’s getting easier. I feel better, actually. I mean, thetreatments make you feel gross and make your hair fall out and all the other things you already know, but people don’t explain how you actually kind of feel better for it. Like, you know there’s something off with you, and it’s addressing that, even if there are some crappy side effects.”

I don’t really want to butt in, but I feel like if I’m going to make the offer, then it would be better to do it when we’re on the topic and not bring it up later like some tone-deaf beast. “I happen to know some good doctors. They’re mostly here, but they probably know people all over the country. Philly is a big city. If you don’t think you’re getting the best treatments or you’re looking for other options, then let me know, and I’ll look into it. I know good people here, so you could always come to stay with us and get treatments as well.”

Heather’s stunned. Everleigh even more so. Hans shifts on the couch, and it creaks, or maybe that was Everleigh’s mom’s jaw. I’m really starting to get the whole foot-in-the-mouth vibes over here.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re getting the best possible options,” I add, probably not helpfully either. I don’t tell them I had contemplated finding someone who could do some digging and get me Heather’s medical files so I could poke into her business like an asshat, but with good intentions. Anyway, I decided against that. For now.

“Yeah,” Heather says, glancing at Everleigh before she turns back to me. “Yeah, I think I’m getting good treatment. My doctors are amazing, and the nurses are all so nice. Everyone I’ve talked to has just been awesome. I’m not one of those super dangerous cases. I have a really good prognosis, and I only have to do so many rounds of chemo. No radiation, at least they don’t think. I’m already progressing well, and my values look good. But…but thank you. That’s really kind.”

I let out a breath. “Okay, I thought maybe it was weird.”

“No! That’s…I didn’t expect you’d be interested or care enough that you’d make such an offer. You’re not only hot, but you’re actually super nice. My sister got really lucky.”

“Heather!” Everleigh gives her aI could totally curl up and die right nowlook and elbows her gently in the arm.

“You have a really nice house, too,” Heather says, steering the conversation away from herself. “That tour was insane. And this library. Wow! Look at all these books! I can’t believe you said most of them came with the house.”

“Hans orders books all the time. He likes reading.” It’s a move designed entirely to shift the focus further from me since I’m not so good with meeting my arranged wife’s family, and I’d like to actually dig my foot out from between my teeth. It works, though, because everyone starts talking animatedly about their favorite books. It’s lucky for me that Everleigh and her family are a bunch of readers.

Hans doesn’t seem to mind since books are his favorite thing, I’m pretty sure. You know, right up there with shaving me every morning. I’m joking about that. That was said in my head with a butt ton of sarcasm.

I want to get up and make a run for it. Thank goodness I didn’t start talking about specialists or alternative therapies and treatments or telling everyone that I could afford to make it happen, no matter the cost. I cut myself off at ultra humiliating instead of super uber ultra humiliating.

I let my eyes track around the room, but I can’t avoid the magnetic pull Everleigh seems to have whenever we’re in the same space, and soon enough, my eyes track back to her. I wilt into the chair when I realize she’s been watching me, studying me. I wasn’t aware. Or maybe I was, hence the magnetic pull. She doesn’t look pissed or annoyed. In fact, she smiles when our eyes meet, and she mouths something that I think isthank you.

I scratch the back of my neck and nod. I hope that was thank you, and not asshole or douchebag or other two-syllable words.

“So, D, what do you have planned for us?” Heather asks, jerking me out of my trance. “Can we go in the pool? Please tell me we can go into the pool. Everleigh says it’s saltwater, and my skin is crap right now, but it should be okay. I love swimming.”

“Yes. The pool is at your disposal, as is the rest of the house.”

“Just please keep out of your office so we don’t mess with your work stuff?”

“Yeah, something like that,” I respond with a small grin.

“Everleigh already told us that you’re a shut-in.”

“Oh my god, Heather!” Everleigh blanches and sinks down deeper on the sofa. “I didn’t say he was a shut-in.” She’s scarlet as she suddenly leaps up and paces across the room to the nearest shelf of books. “I said he worked from home. There’s a difference. That does not mean shut-in.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Yeah, she’s clearly not.

Everleigh spins around, grabs a book, and holds it out. “Oh, look at this!”

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