Page 73 of One Wild Wedding Weekend

The one thing he wanted more than anything else was to go to Daley’s office and wrap his arms around her. Find comfort. Swallow the terrible knot of pain and regret in his throat.

Instead, he held on to his icy control and did what he had to do.

Harold’s assistant was at her desk even before Tristan arrived at eight. He said a brief word to her and then went to his own office. This transition was going to be tricky. He didn’t need two assistants. Perhaps Mildred would be amenable to an early retirement offer. She had worked with Harold Dunn for three decades. It was doubtful she’d be happy in any other capacity.

He sent that thought to the back burner and went on to more pressing matters, all the while wishing Daley might extend another olive branch. Why? Because he wanted her forgiveness even if they were done.

He knew that possibility was as likely as finding dinosaurs on Mars, so he kept his head down, and he worked.

Midmorning, he realized it wasn’t enough to juggle his own projects. L&D was a big company. Obviously, there would be things Harold’s death had left hanging.

Reluctantly, Tristan walked down the hall. He didn’t want to go inside that office. He didn’t want to see the spot where his friend and mentor had taken his last breath. But if Mildred had the balls to do it, surely Tristan owed her his support.

He crossed the threshold, paused and inhaled sharply. “How are you holding up, Mildred?”

Her eyes got teary, but she held it together. “I’m okay, Mr. Hamilton. He was a sweet man. I’m glad he didn’t suffer.”

“Yeah. Me too. Did you know he had advanced cancer?”

She grimaced. “I suspected as much. There were the occasional phone calls and voice mails. I didn’t pry.”

Tristan shook his head slowly, remembering that awful day. It had only been a week, but it seemed like longer. “I thought we had more time,” he said.

Mildred’s smile was wry and sympathetic. “Don’t all of us think that? It’s so hard to contemplate death. We gloss over it and assume the people we love will be with us forever. That’s a natural human reaction, I think. You don’t need to have any regrets. I’m old enough to be your mother, so I think I can say that. He loved you, and you honored him by taking the role he had for you at Lieberman and Dunn.”

“Thank you,” Tristan said. He cleared his throat. “Are there any of his matters that need my attention right away?”

“Just one,” she said briskly, picking up a single sheet of paper from a stack. “Ms. Martin would like to exercise the escape clause. She mentioned that she signed a contract with Harold, and she doesn’t feel comfortable continuing now that he’s gone. All I need you to do is initial this agreement, and I’ll send it over to legal.”

Tristan froze. He took the paper, but his vision was wonky. A scary haze hit, leaving him shaky and and confused. “Please ask her to come to my office right away,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”

He returned to his suite—asked his admin not to be disturbed once Daley Martin arrived. Then he took a seat behind his desk and waited.

When Daley burst through his door twenty minutes later, he could have sworn her hair was on fire. She was livid. “How dare you summon me here like a misbehaving child?” she hissed.

“Shut the door.”

“Shut it yourself.”

He had always thought of her brown eyes as beautiful pools of warm chocolate. Today they flayed him.

Because she refused to do his bidding, he rolled to his feet, calmly closed the door—despite his inner turmoil—and then had to pass by her a second time to reclaim his desk.

“Have a seat,” he said, waving a hand at the small armchair near him.

“I’ll stand.” Her gaze was bitter. “This won’t take long.”

Suddenly, he saw himself through her eyes, and he was ashamed. Daley had more courage in her body than he had accumulated in a lifetime. Even though he had treated her badly, she’d brought him dinner Friday night.

But he had kept her standing outside. Refused to accept her care and concern. Pretended what he felt for her was unimportant.

All his callous stupidity crashed down on him at once. He was an idiot and a fool.

There was more than one way to lose a person. Had he truly believed having her in the building would be enough for him? The occasional glimpse? A casual hello once a week? How was that supposed to make up for his lonely bed? His barren life?

The ice that had encased him for seven days began to melt, leaving him aching and raw. Finally, he was clear about what he had lost and what he stood to lose even now.

Harold was gone. No way to change that ending. But Daley was here with him still. Could he erase what he had done to her? Make up for his failings?

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