Page 17 of One Golden Ring
I can tell she’s still hesitating a little.
Something occurs to me, and it makes my stomach turn.
“Is there someone in your life who would be upset if word of this got back to them?” I ask her.
“No,” she says right away. “Definitely not.”
I shouldn’t feel as relieved as I do at this information.
And I shouldn’t be surprised either. She works from sunrise until I leave the office at night. When would she even have time to date?
That should make me feel guilty, but it sends a shiver of possessiveness through me instead.
I guess I need to get out of the office more myself. Then maybe I wouldn’t keep having these inappropriate feelings about my right-hand woman.
“We can supplement with cash,” I tell her, getting myself back on track. “If that would convince you.”
“No,” she says quickly. “That’s not necessary. I’ll do it.”
Relief washes over me. I don’t think most people get this happy when someone accepts a real proposal.
“Thank you, Darcy,” I tell her, taking her hands. They’re so small and soft compared to mine, and for a second I have the urge to lift one to my lips.
“It’s not a problem,” she says brightly.
The reply feels like a smack in the face, bringing me back to reality. This isn’t something personal. She’s doing a job for pay, just like always.
“I’m going to go check on him,” I tell her. “Then I’ll head down to the village.”
“I’ll stay right here and get started pushing your schedule out,” she says, reaching for her bag again.
“Are you ever away from that laptop?” I hear myself ask.
“Not if I can help it,” she tells me as she unpacks. “It’s my job to handle this stuff whenever you need it. You know that.”
It’s literally what I said to her the day I hired her. It’s just that right now I feel the weight of the responsibility I put on her slim shoulders, and it doesn’t feel so great. Surely she has dreams of her own—personal and professional.
“Everything okay?” she asks me.
“Yeah,” I say, getting up. “See you later.”
“See you later,” she echoes, her face already fixed on the screen, fingers dancing gracefully across the keys.
Shaking off my weird feelings, I head back out to the lounge.
Grandpa Michael isn’t on the couch anymore, but the lady at the desk gives me a smile that’s probably meant to be flirty and points me toward the hallway that leads back to the rooms.
The very first one on the right is open and my grandfather is sitting in the bed.
It’s a small room but it’s neat and tidy. It has the bed of course, a little bedside table, a television on the wall, and a small café table where old Doc Waterson is sitting and chatting with Grandpa.
The doctor gives me a wave when he sees me and my grandfather turns to me, looking much more cheerful than before. The color is back in his cheeks.
“This is nice,” I say, pretending to look around even though it took me about half a second to take it all in. “Jake Stone told me you’d be here. I guess you’re right, they really can’t spare you.”
Grandpa barks out a laugh at that and my heart settles.
“Well, what are you doing here, son?” Doc Waterson asks me. “Don’t you want to take your girlfriend for a romantic carriage ride or something?”
