Page 116 of A Flighty Fake Boyfriend
Obviously because he was one of the A’s in AIM Environmental Energy.
Gods. I should have learned more about AIM before we came. I should have looked the company up, but I’d been too focused on the job and too blown apart by Luis getting married. I hadn’t bothered to look too deeply into something I thought was a bit of a waste of time.
Just goes to show how wrong you can be about things.
My dad once told me to hold a quarter in front of my eye and of course, I did. He asked me what I could see, and duh, I saw silver and not much else. Then he told me to move the quarter six inches away.
My job was just like that quarter. When I distanced myself even a little, I found I could see everything I’d been missing out on so clearly. Love, certainly. People who wanted to support me and StolenLives. Friendships I’d let slide, like Dan and Cam. Meals I’d missed. Things I did that harmed my body.
As long as I was with Epic, I knew I’d be able to keep the distance I needed from work to truly thrive. Maybe it was a bit risky, putting my whole life in the hands of someone who was barely out of school, but on the other hand, that person was Epic.
Who’s on first?
Exactly.
“Let’s go.” He stood and held out his hand.
“All right.” I let him lead.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
We boughta vintage bungalow three blocks from the beach where we could hear the music from Nacho’s Bar if we left the windows open. Ken the real estate wizard had flipped the property lavishly. Inside its blue-and-white master bedroom, I opened my eyes, wondering what exactly had teased me awake. Ah, yes—the aroma of coffee and banana-nut bread.
I reached out, but Epic was long gone. The sheets on his side of our bed had cooled. I checked the time. Already eight?Yikes. I had international calls to make, and I didn’t want to miss my window.
I showered quickly and dressed. No shave today. I entered the kitchen in a hurry and found Epic sitting at the table reading on his tablet. As always, he looked relaxed but still put together. Button-down, jeans cuffed at the ankle, boat shoes with no socks.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
He glanced up. “Why should I? You’ve still got time for a nice breakfast.”
The bowl of berries on the table looked luscious. He’d set a place for me with Greek yogurt and honey and a couple slices of banana bread. When I sat, he poured me coffee.
“Thank you.”
He dropped a kiss on my forehead. “Any time.”
The table sat in the sunniest spot in our kitchen. Well, it was sunny when the morning mist, typical in St. Nacho’s, burned off. He'd left the slider open with the screen closed, letting in a breeze from the sea and the sound of birds chirping in our orange trees.
“Lila got confirmation that there’s been a disruption in drug trafficking through El Paso. No word yet if that’s because the Mexican government made headway on those manufacturing camps, but it’s good news either way.”
“A step in the right direction.” Along with drugs, there were always mules who might or might not be willing participants. The cartels ran prostitution, gambling, and pornography rings. We celebrated every sign they were slowing down as a win.
I ate the rest of my breakfast and helped Epic do the dishes.
Epic and I spent most of our time working remotely from St. Nacho’s. I still traveled for business, and we flew to Canada for face time with Lila and our colleagues when necessary.
Truthfully, working remotely had changed very little in my day-to-day work schedule. In fact, lacking commute time and creating a state-of-the-art home office meant I could spend even more hours at work than before. Epic put a firm stop to that. A moratorium. Ahell no.
Over the weeks we’d spent together, I’d learned to let Epic tell me when it was time to start and stop. Like today, when he turned off the alarm so I could get a bit of extra sleep or in the evenings when sitting down to a nice dinner could be a late affair but was not optional.
Epic still made sure I wore sunscreen. He bought me hats.
When I doubted he was getting anything out of the deal, I only had to see his smile, taste his kisses, or surrender my body to the delights of our bed to know whatever we had was real, and good, and lasting.
Happy Epic made everyone around him happy. It was his gift.
