Page 82 of One Big Little Secret

“It won’t be a regular thing,” she assures me. “Just tonight.”

“Was I complaining?” I stand reluctantly, hating that I wonder even more about her life. Why does she feel so small that she has to beg for time off just to be with her son? “Do you feel like you’re handling the workload?”

“What do you mean?”

“Am I laying it on too thick?” Like the Minnesota project, which is outside her duties here. “I understand you need a life outside this place, Salem. You’re a mom.”

“Thanks. That’s very considerate.” She frowns, her brows knitting together.

Her surprise irritates me.

“I never like to overwork my employees. Like I’ve said before, that’s for executives only.”

“I’m not overworked, Patton.” She turns back to her screen now. “As a matter of fact, I like it. And if I help contribute to your expansion, that’s a great thing for my résumé.”

For when she leaves.

Which is inevitable, sooner or later, because this job and a glorified mentorship isn’t meant to be a long-term forever career. I’m sure she has dreams beyond the company, whether that’s leveraging this experience for a new job or another business venture.

“Of course,” I growl.

Understandable. All of it.

I just don’t get why there’s this anxious gnawing in my chest at the thought of her walking out of my life a second time, like a stranger in the night.

Goddamn, that isn’t my place.

I shouldn’t want to leave a permanent mark on her life.

Especially when her moving on is clearly what’s best, theonlything that should happen in any sane world.

“Get out of here at a decent hour,” I tell her.

When I turn around in the doorway and look back, she’s barely nodding, already back to crushing her improvements like I was never here at all.

11

LOSING STREAK (SALEM)

Iget Arlo to his martial arts lesson just in time with a check in my hand for the instructor.

Another payment made.

Another activity he won’t have to quit because I can’t pay the tab.

Another round of messages from Kayla—flipping Kayla—ignored.

Patton doesn’t need to find out I was only hired so I can be an unwilling matchmaker for my spoiled frenemy.

The heavy clouds hanging in the sky when I left the office have opened up. Thick white flakes stream down on the city, coating it in fresh snow.

I have to be careful driving. The plows are infamously bad at handling snap snowstorms with this sort of heavy, wet mush.

Any other day, I might be happy that it’s my only problem.

Arlo loves the snow so much, just seeing it seems to make him calmer.

And my happiness comes from seeing his joy in the little things, enjoying how the world unfolds with a child’s eyes.

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