Page 9 of Bold

Sunday has been my best friend since I dumped sand over her head in the sandbox. She cried, and I never wanted to hear her make those sad wails again. As a little boy, I was devastated that I’d caused her so much distress, so the next day, I brought her flowers that I’d asked my mom to take me to get and gave her a handwritten apology card. We’ve been inseparable ever since, and Sunday knows me better than I know myself. I see where her question is leading, but this time, she’s wrong.

“Don’t overthink this, Sunday. The girl needed a job. She needed it more than the little twerp we hired last week. I gave her a job. Yes, she’s hot, but there isn’t some hidden meaning here besides the fact that I thought she’d be nice to look at while I work.”

“Not everyone needs you to save them.” She rolls her eyes in annoyance. “It’s time for you to quit only focusing on work and open your heart back up. There is room in your life for both.”

“So … you’re telling me to sleep with her?”

Her eyes narrow. “No. That isn’t what I’m saying, and you know it. I’m saying that you need to stop focusing so much on what other people need and start focusing on yourself. That girl is the first girl you’ve even blinked at in almost a year.”

“Listen, she needed a job, so I gave her one. I’m not trying to find a damn relationship. Besides, only one person actually needs me right now.”

Her frustration with me grows to an ultimate level. “I saw the way you were looking at her while you went over things I’ve been handling for years. You never would have given up your precious building time had the other assistant been here today. I stood back and watched while the two of you were so consumed with one another that neither of you noticed anyone else had come into the room. Be in denial all you want, but don’t try to make me look like I’m the crazy one here. You and that girl could probably end up together if you would just let down your stupid, thick walls.”

My best friend has clearly lost her mind. If I were honest with myself though, I’d admit that I hadn’t noticed her come in and that I might actually agree with her. It’s a good thing I’m not being honest with myself at the moment.

“I need to get to the job site. Are you going to be good to help her for the rest of the day?” I attempt to shrug off my annoyance but fail miserably. It seeps out in my every word.

“Yeah, Brazen, I’m good. I’d be even better if you pulled your head out of your ass. Work on that.”

I leave Sunday in the kitchen and ditch the office altogether without a word to Noah. Her head lifts as I fly by, but I need to put some distance between me and what Sunday just said.

I slam my truck door harder than necessary. I power down the music in frustration. It might not be professional, but in the silence of my vehicle, wanting to learn everything I can about my new assistant is what consumes my thoughts. The way she hummed while I went over instructions and how cute it was that she clicked her pen when she was deep in thought.

This working relationship is going to be much more difficult than I thought, which is something I already knew. It just took me until now to admit it to myself.