Page 18 of Just for Her
“You never got the message, did you?”
He shook his head slightly. “My receptionist has been out of the office, and my assistant has been filling in.”
So, Stella was his assistant. I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly she assisted him with since she didn’t seem very capable in an administrative capacity. However, the first couple things that came to mind sent unexpected ripples of something dark and ugly through me, so I shut them down and directed my thoughts in another direction.
“No offense, but you’d be better off with an answering service.” I clamped my lips shut, appalled that I’d blurted it out like that.
I was usually better at keeping my thoughts to myself. I wanted this man’s help. Insulting him wasn’t the way to get it.
So, I did what anyone would do. I backpedaled. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”
Rather than be offended, he quirked his lips. “Perhaps not, but I tend to agree with you.”
Lights continued to dance on his desk phone. I wondered how many calls he got in a day. As the only family services lawyer in the area, probably a lot. What he needed was a capable assistant—or better yet, a paralegal like me to take some of the weight off his shoulders.
“Then, why keep her around?”
“It’s complicated.”
His nonanswer reinforced my theories about Stella’s particular skill set around the office, causing those earlier ugly ripples to return twofold.
“It’s hard to work with someone you’re involved with.”
His eyes widened. “Stella and I aren’t involved. At least, not in the way you’re thinking.”
“Doessheknow that?”
Again, my brain-to-mouth filter had failed to engage.
And again, his lips quirked. “You sound like my sister.”
“Maybe you should listen to her. Sisters know things.”
“Duly noted.” The quirk became a full-fledged grin before he grew serious again. “In any event, it’s no longer an issue.”
A pang of guilt went through me as the meaning of his words registered even though I had nothing to feel guilty about. I hadn’t done anything wrong. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was long overdue.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Irene will be back next week, hopefully. Until then, I’ll figure something out.”
Yeah, now, I really felt bad.
I waved my hand in the direction of the phone and its blinking lights. My OCD was flaring. “Do you want to get that?”
He shook his head.
“It might be important.”
“They’reallimportant,” he told me. “Including your sister. When are you returning to Boston?”
“Sunday.”
He checked his calendar and frowned. I assumed that meant he had nothing available. I was right.
“Would you be amenable to an evening meeting?”
