Page 14 of One Small Secret

I just laugh. “Does it matter when or how I got him? I’ve got to take care of him, and I’m not taking him to Vietnam. We’re staying here.”

“And his father?” Ruben says this slowly, almost like he doesn’t want me to ignore the question this time.

“Not in the picture.” I could tell him he died—play the sympathy card—but the fewer people who know about Axley, the better. And since his dad really did die, it doesn’t feel like something I should take advantage of.

His jaw clenches for a moment before he nods, as if a man leaving me alone with a child isn’t surprising to him at all. “Then you’ll need your position back.”

It’s my turn to be speechless. For a moment, anyway. I usually manage to find something to say. “You’re giving me my job back out of pity?”

Ruben’s jaw clenches and again, a deep line forms between his eyes. Yep, give him a few more years, and that smooth skin of his is going to be lined and…Crap—he's a man. It will just make him look distinguished. He'll be one of those men with peppered gray hair still leaving women breathless with his magnetism. Could life be any more unfair? “You are one of Palmers’ best employees. Pity has nothing to do with it.”

“And yet, you didn’t offer me my job back until you met Axley.”

His face freezes. He blinks twice before speaking. “You named your son Axley?”

Of all the things I’d just semi-told Ruben, this was the thing that surprised him most? “No, I just call him that for my health.”

Deflection. I’m already getting better at it.

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. That was extremely rude. Axley is a perfectly valid name. I just thought…”

What did he think? That he knew me well enough to know that I wouldn’t name my child something ridiculous like Axley? Well, turns out he was wrong. Sort of. Anyway, I’m taking credit for surprising him even if it was Moira’s doing.

We’ve reached the end of the block and I’ve no desire to extend the time I’ve spent outside freezing. I start to turn the stroller around and Ruben follows my lead. It slides around a bit, and I end up pressed against part of his back for the briefest of moments, but we manage the 180-degree turn.

Within three steps, our strides are back in sync. Ruben takes a deep breath. “So, will you take your job back?”

Now it's my turn to clench my jaw, and if it causes unbecoming lines on my face, so be it. There is nothing I want more than to throw his pity offer in his face and tell him I don’t need a job at his stupid company. This man hurt me. He tossed me away in a way that his family never would have. For three generations our families have managed to remain close, despite the fact that his is now famous and intensely rich. But that generational friendship is ending with us. And I can’t forgive him for that.

And yet, Christmas is coming, and we haven’t bought anything for Axley yet. It’s not like he'll remember that he didn’t open nice presents on his first Christmas. But it might be my only Christmas with him, and I’m dying to spoil him a little.

Plus, there's Mom.

I might be able to get past my weird obsession with making it to the top of Palmer Hotels, but nothing would make Mom prouder than me working there again. “Fine.”

“No need to be grateful.”

“I’m not.”

He smiles, and I’m reminded why this man is the face of the most luxurious hotel brand of the modern era. He’s stunning. It's no coincidence that despite being a huge company before he hit puberty, what really made Palmer Hotels into the global powerhouse it is today was the world going crazy over this man. He nods and his dimples deepen. “I know.”

I wish it was easier to hate him.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Christian does a double take as he walks off the elevator and sees me at my desk. Then he smiles and strides over. “Got your job back, did you?”

“Apparently there was a mistake in the email system, and they didn’t mean to fire me at all.”

Christian raises an eyebrow, but I shrug as if to say that’s the story and I’m sticking to it.

“A mistake in the system, huh?”

“Yeah. Weird, right?”

“Very weird.”

“Someone told me you were the one to alert upper management.” I lower my smile, not because I’m ungrateful, but because I am grateful and I want him to see that I’m not being flippant anymore. “Thank you.”

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