Page 13 of Free Me

Gary snorts. “You don’t want to get on her bad side, Blake. I’ve seen her with her brothers. She’s brutal.”

I’m well aware of Astrid’s ability to call bullshit when she sees it, and it’s one of the many things that make her such an outstanding editor and an amazing friend. “I promise, I am.” I take my phone out and read the text from another of my editors, firing off a quick reply.

“You’re still a bit pale, Blake. And you’re pushing yourself.” She’s not wrong, but I’m not as bad as I was before the scare. Mostly. And I’ve been trying to manage my stress, mainly by avoiding Gilbert. But I can’t do that forever. Now that I’m sure we have Gary on board, we could bring on the new imprint without Gilbert, but it would be a challenge.

“Astrid, I promise you, I’m not working through lunch. I was a good boy and brought something from home.” A response to my text comes in and I glance at the screen.

She pointedly looks between me and my phone, and her arched eyebrow says she’s not buying it. “As long as it’s not hormone-free gorgonzola cubes alongside energetically-balanced chard and garlic pudding.”

Gary barks out a laugh. “That sounds awful. What even is that?” They grin at each other, exchanging a soft look.

I glance away, giving them their moment. I’m happy for all the people in my life who’ve found their other halves. But some days, watching them is like rubbing salt in a wound. Though I’m not willing to put myself through another disastrous relationship in the hopes that I’d finally find that. Been there, done that, never again.

Astrid slips her hand into Gary’s. “I have no idea, but it certainly sounds like something you’d find at one of those restaurants Blake loves.” She turns to me with a glare. “It’s not food.” She tugs Gary toward the door, pointing at me with her free hand. “Eat something healthy but filling. Go for a walk in the park. Don’t work through lunch. Better yet, take the afternoon off. You need more work-life balance.”

My mind immediately conjures an image of Stef, smiling encouragingly, his calm but firm tenor telling me to breathe and relax. With minimal effort, I’m inhaling deeply, and my shoulders slowly drop away from my ears. “Alright. I promise to eat something healthy. And maybe I’ll go for that walk or practice my meditation.”

Astrid turns and stares at me. “Since when did you take up meditation?”

“Ha. You don’t know everything about me. You only think you do.” I take off my suit coat, and she continues to wait, clearly skeptical. “Fine. I contacted a physio coach Mia suggested. Part of the program is meditation for stress relief.”

Her eyes widen. “Shut up! You did not!”

Gary clears his throat and tries to stifle a laugh. “Did you just tell your boss to shut up?”

She blushes but grins. “Yes. And I stand by my incredulity.”

“Well, in fact, I did. We had one session last Wednesday, and it was… helpful. We’re meeting again tomorrow afternoon, so I’ll be leaving early. I’ll actually be leaving early the next few Wednesdays until I complete the program. But if you guys need me, you can text or email.”

Astrid cuts that idea off at the knees. “We’ll do nothing of the kind. If anyone needs something while you’re out, they can contact me. Wednesday afternoons are now work-free times for you.”

Gary glances between us and grins, shaking his head like he knows who’s going to win this discussion. He’s not wrong, and it’s why I hired Astrid in the first place. She’s smart, sharp, and no-nonsense. I can absolutely trust her with the company while I take a small break once a week.

He gives her hand a gentle tug. “Come on Sunshine. Leave Blake to his meditation, and let me buy you lunch.” The smile she gives him is soft and heartwarming, and as I watch them leave, that stab of envy rears its ugly head again. I shake it off. They’re two of my favorite people. I love that they’ve found each other. But that will never be me.

6

Stef

Ipulluptothe end of the driveway and key in the access code Blake gave me, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel nervously while I wait for the gate to slowly swing in. I detest being late, though it was out of my control. And it’s in the back of my mind that he’s figured out it was me at the club, and I can’t stop worrying that it will make things awkward. At least he hasn’t canceled our session.

Parking in the same spot as last week, I grab my bag and hop out of the car, taking a deep, cleansing breath before I hurry to the house. There’s no sense postponing whatever’s going to happen. I’d rather rip off the bandage and deal with the aftermath. Squaring my shoulders, I step up to the door and ring the bell. I can do this. I’m a fabulous professional.

The door opens, and Blake steps out, absolutely edible in a pair of black sweatpants that cling to his hips and a gray T-shirt stretched over his broad chest and shoulders. He’s also barefoot again, and I had no idea I have a thing for that, but sweet mother-of-pearl, his feet are as sexy as the rest of him.

It takes a lot of self-control to stop staring, but I force my eyes up to his and flash him a brilliant smile. As the absolutely fabulous Marilyn Monroe said,a smile is the best thing a girl can wear. It’s great armor, too. “I’msosorry I’m late. Traffic was awful. There was an accident on I-5 and of course everyone had to slow down and gawk.”

He waves me into the house and closes the door behind us, gesturing for me to go through to the living room. “It’s no big deal. You’re not that late. Plus, you weren’t in the accident, so it’s all good.”

My heart does a little skippity-flutter because he’s being incredibly sweet. “I appreciate you’ve taken off work for this. Your time is as valuable as mine, and I want to respect that.”

“Stef.”

His smooth baritone shouldn’t send warm tingles over my skin, but here we are. My pulse is racing, my palms are sweaty, and I haven’t even been here two minutes. I drop my bag on the sofa and whirl to face him, a pageant-worthy smile firmly in place. “Yes?”

“It’s fine. I promise. I took the afternoon off and have nowhere to be and nothing to do. My big plans for the afternoon are this, and reading a book.”

“Good for you!” My voice is loud, about an octave too high, and definitely too cheery. Criminy, I’m a mess. I pause and give myself a moment before I completely embarrass myself. “I know you have a lot of responsibilities, and taking the afternoon off is a big deal. But itisa good idea. If it works for you, I could stay a bit longer today and tack the time on the back end of our session. My late afternoon appointment canceled.”

---