Page 75 of Boss with Benefits

I cared about Derrick. A lot. Way more than I had allowed myself to admit. The revelation threw me off balance, and I slammed my hand against the mirrored wall, steadying myself.

I closed my eyes, unable to look at myself, the reality of my feelings for him too much to face. The elevator doors closed, my heart pounding as the numbers ticked down to the lobby.

I was going to be there for Derrick. Because that's what you do when you care about someone. You show up. And God knew he had shown up enough times for me.

36

DERRICK

The constant beep of the machine next to my mom's hospital bed was like Chinese water torture, reminding me how useless I was to help her.

Oh God. Was that cultural appropriation?

Whatever. That sound was fucking annoying.

The harsh fluorescent lights overhead did nothing to lighten my mood in the sterile room I'd been in and out of for the past few days.

My mom lay in the bed, eyes closed, her face pale and sunken. A severe kidney infection at her age–sixty-five–was no joke. The doctors said it started as a simple UTI but it quickly escalated when untreated.

Sunday night, Dad said she woke up shivering with a temperature over a hundred and complaining of severe back pain. She was delirious and panicked so he called an ambulance. Now, she was here, hooked up to IVs and monitors, fighting off the infection. The pain in her kidneys was too much for her to handle so her doctor put her on strong pain meds that made her sleepy.

Dad had been in and out, doing his best to juggle running the deli and being here. He was a tough guy, but this was wearing on him. I'd been splitting my time between helping my dad at the deli and sitting here, monitoring my mom. The constant worry gnawed at me, and exhaustion had settled into my bones, making an uncomfortable home.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to stave off the sleep that kept threatening to pull me under. It hit me suddenly, and it wouldn't release its grip on me.

My head jerked up when I heard the door open. I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see a nurse or one of my sisters. Instead, it was Rachel.

She stepped in hesitantly, chomping on her lip, looking out of place in this somber setting with her vibrant clothes and colorful hair.

I blinked, wondering if I was hallucinating from sleep deprivation.

"Rachel?" My voice came out raspy, and I cleared my throat.

She gave me a tentative smile. "Hey, Boss. I heard about your mom. And I...um, wanted to see if I can help."

My heart lurched, but I was so tired I couldn't even process any emotions about her being there. I was too exhausted to analyze anything.

"How is she?" Rachel asked, glancing at my mom.

I gave her a quick rundown and she nodded, taking another step into the room. The sight of her, the smell of her lemongrass lotion, brought all the feels back in a tidal wave, and I wasn't sure I could handle it right then. Dealing with my mother was taking nearly all my energy.

"How are you?" she asked.

"I'm running on fumes," I admitted.

Rachel stepped closer, her presence making the sterile environment a bit warmer. A sharp tug in my gut urged me to yank her to me and collapse in her arms.

But I stayed where I was, and she moved to my mom's bedside.

"She's got color in her cheeks." Rachel glanced back at me. "You look like hell. When was the last time you slept?"

I tried to remember, but it was a blur. "A while ago."

Rachel pulled out her phone. "Where are your sisters?"

I explained the situation with my family members.

"Have you eaten?" she asked, flicking through her phone.

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