Page 18 of By the Letter

“Finish your sentence. Explain why you’re mistreating Frank’s daughter.”

She kept walking, those little fists balling even tighter. At half my size, I could have easily overtaken her, but I allowed her to have the lead. She strode straight into her office, and I followed, closing the door behind me.

She slumped in her chair and started clicking away on her mouse, ignoring my presence. It was infuriating. I wanted to have an important discussion with this woman and she wouldn’t even acknowledge I was standing in front of her.

“Shira.”

“Was there something else?” Her voice was so soft I had to lean forward to hear her.

“There is, in fact. I read your email and have a few follow-up questions. Do you have the time to answer them?”

“Just a minute, please.”

She tapped on her mouse, the corner of her jaw rippling with tension. Taking a sweep of the rest of her face, I noticed her pallor, a contrast to her usual golden tone, and the purple rings around her eyes. Shira was a fine-boned woman, but her cheekbones were more prominent than usual.

Uncomfortable, I shifted on my feet. “Are you sick?”

Her gaze flicked to mine. “Not with anything contagious. Don’t worry.”

I frowned. “Youaresick. That’s why you were sleeping at your desk yesterday.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, her hand stilling. “I…I didn’t mean to do that.” Then she covered her face with both hands. “I’m so sorry you saw me like that. How embarrassing.”

“Shira, if you can’t stay awake, you shouldn’t be at work. Go to the doctor, get some rest.”

She moved her hands aside to look up at me. “I’m fine, honestly. As I said, I’m not contagious, and I can do my job. There’s no sense in me staying home. I’ll just worry about things here and won’t rest.” She let her hands fall to her desk and wove her fingers together, clenching hard enough to turn them white. “It won’t happen again.”

I took her in for a long beat. She really didn’t look well. Wisps had escaped her normally tidy hair, framing her sallow, hollow-cheeked face.

“Are you eating?” I asked, immediately wishing I could take it back. What she ate or didn’t eat wasn’t my concern. Soon, nothing about Shira would be my concern. But I was who I was, and seeing a woman in distress, no matter my personal feelings, didn’t sit well with me.

Shira pressed her lips together and looked away. “I’m fine, Roman. Thank you for asking. I won’t fall asleep at my desk again, and I’ll be sure to keep personal issues outside the office.”

Dismissed. That was what I was. I hadn’t gotten the answers I’d been seeking, but I wasn’t going to keep standing here with my dick in my hand while Shira tapped away on her damnable keyboard. I’d figure things out on my own.

Once I moved forward with my plans for GoldMed, I’d be doing that anyway.

Chapter Eight

Shira

For the last week,Bea had been coddling me. Clara too, but Bea had gone above and beyond. I’d seen her every day, whether for a walk, lunch, or dinner, and she texted every few hours to check in with me. Tonight, I’d gone to her place after work for dinner. All too aware of my lack of culinary skills, Bea was trying to keep me fed. She was a great cook, but I’d brought most of my dinner home, too queasy to eat much.

When I arrived home, Mary greeted me at the door. I’d gotten her the week after Frank passed to keep me company in this big, quiet house, and she did a good job of it. When the rescue said her last owner had died unexpectedly, I knew she had to be mine. We grieved together and pulled each other through.

I’d never had a cat before, but I couldn’t imagine a sweeter one than Mary. Delicate and small for her age, with tuxedo coloring, she wore a pink collar with a fluffy mini bow. She was a little love, always following me around or bringing her toys over to where I was sitting to bat around with her tiny paws. But Mary also did not suffer fools. Just as she did every time I visited Bea and pet Benjamin, she took a whiff of me and backed away with a look of utter betrayal.

“I’m sorry, Mary. I did pet a dog, but I was thinking about you the whole time.”

“Rrrreow,” she replied, plopping on her butt to clean the filth I’d just dragged in off herself.

I looked around my stark living room. It used to be filled with antiques and trinkets, but Francesca had slowly removed most of them over the last year. I didn’t mind her taking a lot of it, but she had a bad habit of letting herself into the house when I wasn’t here, which made me uncomfortable. She’d also taken things that were mine—my dining room table and chairs, a few paintings, my favorite armchair.

“No one came in today, did they?” I asked my cat.

“Rrrrowww,” Mary informed me.

“I didn’t think so.”

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