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  Garrett nods. “Probably not a good idea to leave him to care for her for the next couple weeks, I suppose.”

  “For Christ’s sake, I’m not really going to filet the damn animal,” I defend myself. “It wasn’t the goat’s fault I tripped over it.” Although I’d sure like to know what did set into motion the series of events that landed me here in this hospital bed, listening to this woman tell me I can’t fend for myself for at least a week, possibly longer.

  “I suppose I could ask our parents to stay at Paynt and Chloe’s house with him,” Garrett says.

  “Hell no.” Is he kidding? One aspect of last night I do remember is Mom’s critique of my social life—or lack thereof. She wanted to know how I was supposed to give her grandchildren if I don’t even date once in a while. And then she embarrassed me further by telling me she was well versed in the process of creating babies and if I needed any advice—and that was the point I’d made my excuse and gone to seek out Myra.

  Garrett pulls off his cap again and rearranges it on his head. “Well, I guess you could stay with us. I’m just worried about Abby’s toys being underfoot. And now the duck. If you can’t avoid tripping over a goat, how are you going to maneuver around a duck?”

  “A duck?” the doctor asks. She glances at me, a clear question in her eye.

  “My family does not understand the concept of normal pets,” I tell her. “Or better yet, no pets.”

  Garrett ignores me and explains. “My fiancée sort of inadvertently adopted the thing—rather, it adopted her—and now my daughter’s in love with it, and apparently I’m now the proud owner of a white duck named Ducky.” He doesn’t look particularly put out by the addition of a waddling family member. I, on the other hand, have no interest whatsoever in sharing space with his feathered friend.

  “No. I want to go home. Or, I suppose, to Paynt and Chloe’s.” I guess I can’t shirk my duty as goat-sitter, even if the animal damn nearly killed me last night.

  The doctor shakes her head, and for a moment, I wish Garrett were still single, because he’d probably be hitting on her and she’d be all doe-eyed and he could convince her to release me without even realizing she was doing it. But, truthfully, I like Garrett’s fiancée, and I like the person he’s become since he started dating her, so I suppose I can’t complain too much.

  Yes, yes, I can. Because I’m not going to stay at my brother’s house with a duck and a three-year-old. I like my peace and quiet too much. I like having CNBC on in the background, not Bob the Builder or whatever the hell kids watch these days.

  “How do you expect to take care of Spot when the doctor’s telling us you can’t even take care of yourself?” Garrett demands, being far too logical for my current state of mind.

  “Yes,” the doctor interjects. “You need a caregiver, at least for the first week. We have no idea how you will react to the concussion, or if that amnesia will get worse.”

  “You just want to take advantage of my insurance plan.”

  The doctor’s demeanor switches from warm and friendly to icy cold in a nanosecond. “Contrary to your very rude opinion, Mr. Frost, I happen to be in the business of fixing and saving people. It is my duty to ensure you are safe, whether I like you as a person or not. Now, if you want me to release you, employ a nurse or commit to staying with a family member. Otherwise, get comfortable.”

  With those parting words, she storms from the room, leaving me to huff out a frustrated sigh while Garrett laughs so hard he has to swipe tears from his eyes. When he can finally talk again, he says, “You’re a real ladies’ man, aren’t you? No wonder you’re still single. Not many women would be willing to put up with your attitude for the long term.”

  “I don’t care what that doctor thinks of me.” My reply is churlish, but I don’t take it back. Unlike my brother, having women fawn over me is not a priority in my life. My personal life has taken a back seat to my business these past few years. Twenty, if I’m counting, which I wouldn’t be if it weren’t for my mother reminding me every time I see her. Besides, I don’t have time to meet women outside the realm of business functions. Can barely tolerate the ones I have met.

  Garrett shakes his head and finally tosses my phone into my lap. “So, am I calling a nurse?”

  Okay, apparently, for the short term, my personal life needs a little attention too. And frankly, I can think of only one person I’d be able to tolerate twenty-four hours a day for a week straight.

  I stare down at the screen, which lights up with calendar appointments and an email notification.

  “No. Call Myra.”

  Chapter Three

  MYRA

  You know how they say that things will look better in the morning? That’s not true. Paynt and Chloe’s backyard looks like a bomb went off and spewed white silk all over the place. Tables and pots of flowers still litter the lawn under strings of bulbs that aren’t quite so romantic in the light of pack up day. I yawn as I trudge over the trampled grass toward the goat pen. James was supposed to be looking after Spot, but instead he’s in the hospital.

  If I hadn’t tried to kiss my boss, we’d both be enjoying what little relaxation time Sundays usually afford. Well that, and I’d get a few of my chores marked off the massive to-do list I keep on my fridge. At least I have a housekeeper otherwise my entire life would be in shambles. Not just most of it.

  I did send James’s new schedule and my resignation letter to his phone though, so there’s that. And the goat will be sorted in a minute. I find Spot munching on a few choice strands of grass beside her pen. She gives me that baleful look that only pets can manage and bleats softly. Does she have any idea of the trouble she caused?

  “Come on,” I tell her as I head toward the house to check that she has enough water. She trots along beside me. Anyone would think she’s a dog.

  “Morning, Myra. What are you doing here?” Ronnie’s standing on the deck in an oversized T-shirt that falls to about her knees, a pair of aviator sunglasses hiding her eyes. She looks a fright, or like she just climbed out of bed. Possibly after a long night with that guy she disappeared with after the wedding.

  “I came to let Spot out,” I call out to her. “I didn’t know if you were going to be here, or at the hospital.”

  “The hospital?” She leans over the railing as I approach the house.

  My stomach dips. It’s like watching the scene of a crime play out all over again with her so close to where James fell. “Didn’t you get my messages?”

  “Oh.” She raises an eyebrow above the rim of her sunglasses. “About James?”

  “I thought you might have gone to check on him.” I climb the steps to the deck.

  “I only just woke up twenty minutes ago.” She shifts the dark lenses to her head with one hand. There’s mascara smudged around her eyes. “But Garrett says James is fine. If you count being moody about not being able to go to his precious office as fine. He’s taking James home. Says he’s concussed and has short-term memory loss.”

  “Poor James.” I exhale. Tension I didn’t know I was under suddenly lifts. It might not be much of a reprieve, but I’ll take it. I eye the glass of orange juice in Ronnie’s hand.

  “You want one?” She smiles, jiggling it until the ice clinks.

  “Is there vodka in it?”

  “No. Should there be?” She chuckles, moving to the pitcher on the table. A single glass beside it. Does she have company?

  “Probably.” I put my hand to my mouth to cover a yawn. After this I should probably try to get some sleep.

  Filling a glass, she passes it to me before sitting cross-legged on one of the big rattan chairs. “So what the hell happened last night?”

  “I already told you in the messages I left on your voicemail. James fell over the goat.”

  “No. I meant the part before the goat. The part he doesn’t remember.” She stares at me in that uncanny way she always has when she can tell I am hiding things. “You’re the only one who was there. What happene
d between you two?”

  Growing up, I always wanted a sister. And then I met Ronnie, who is everything I suspected a sister might be. Bossy, intuitive, someone to talk to about man trouble. If the man causing me trouble isn’t her brother.

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit.” She leans forward to grab my hand. “Something definitely happened between you two. I can tell by your face. Now sit down and spill the beans.”

  I flop into the chair opposite her. Is it that obvious? I neutralize my expression as I sit my glass on the table top. “Honestly, it was nothing. Just a freak accident.”

  “Hmmm.” She taps a finger to the bow of her lips. “How about I guess, and you try to deny it when I get it right?”

  “There really is nothing to—”

  “You told James you have a big fat crush on him and that your kitty starts purring every time you’re alone with him. ”

  “No. That’s not true. I’m not. I don’t have feelings… My kitty? Are you serious?”

  “Save your denials for someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do,” she says, peering at me intently. “But no, you wouldn’t have the guts to actually come out and tell him to his face like that. So you, what? You tried to be more tactful.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” I argue. “I did plan to tell him. It just happened a little differently.”

  “What just happened?” She leans closer, her gaze scanning mine.

  “N-nothing.” I grip the arms of the chair. “Nothing important anyway.”

  “Oh. You quit. That’s what happened? You quit working for my brother? You decided to take that job at the cookie place?”

  “I gave notice.” I slump in my chair. “It makes sense to take the job. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”

  “Good for you,” she says. “That took some guts. Should have done it years ago.”

  “What? You don’t think I should have been working for James?”

  “No.” She grins, and tugs at the hem of her shirt as she shifts in her seat. “Although I don’t think you should consider moving continents either. You should be kissing James. Possibly making some of those grandbabies our mother constantly reminds us are her God-given right.”

  I groan. What’s the point of trying to hide anything from Ronnie when she sees right through me? “I kissed him. Last night. Or at least I tried to.”

  “You did?” She looks shocked. “Wait? Did it not go well? Is this before or after you quit?”

  “Before.” I hide my face. Did someone turn up the thermostat on the sun? “I had to know before I could decide to take the job.”

  “Did my idiot brother knock you back? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  I nod. “James isn’t an idiot. He just—”

  “Wow. I can’t believe... Sometimes he can be so dense, but this takes the cake.” She sits back, shaking her head.

  “But it doesn’t seem he even remembers it.” There’s something to be said for small mercies. “So let’s just leave it as I resigned.”

  “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell him. I haven’t yet,” she reassures me. “So how long do you have to decide whether you’ll take the job?”

  “A little over two weeks. They expect me to start in a month.” My phone rings and I leap to retrieve it. James’s number flashes on the screen, and I clamp my hand over it as I mouth, “It’s him.”

  “You better take it,” Ronnie says.

  “What if he remembers?” I bite the inside of my lip, my pulse racing.

  “Only one way to find out.” She shrugs.

  I take a deep breath and will my heart to slow down, before I answer. “Yes, James?”

  “Myra, where are you?”

  “I’m at Paynt’s.”

  “Why are you there? You should be here. And what’s with this letter?”

  “I came to check on the goat, and I’m quitting.”

  “You’re giving me two weeks’ notice? That’s what this says.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You can’t.”

  “Actually, I can. I am.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would you do that? Is this something to do with what happened last night? I don’t remember. Did I do something?”

  “No.” Not you. It was all me. “It’s just time for a change, James.”

  Ronnie gives me a thumbs up, and I glare at her.

  “Well, I don’t like it,” James grumbles. “What do I need to do to make you change your mind?”

  Other than redo last night so that it ends completely differently? “I won’t be changing my mind. But I’ve set up your schedule for the week. And I’ll be in the office over the next two weeks to make sure things run smoothly.”

  “That’s not good enough.”

  “It’s the best I can do.”

  “Myra, I need you.”

  “No, you don’t. There are plenty of people just as qualified as I am to be your assistant.”

  “That’s not quite what I meant. My doctor says I need someone with me for at least the next week.”

  “Garrett’s there, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, but I’d rather have you if I have to have anyone at all.”

  “That isn’t part of my job description.” The last thing I should want to do is spend time alone with him after last night. I’m half tempted to use my sick leave as it is. “I’m an assistant, not a nursemaid.”

  “As my friend, Myra. Yes, you’re my assistant, but you’re also the only person I could handle hovering over me twenty-four-seven, since you practically already do. Now Garrett’s going to take me home. Will you please come?”

  “I suppose,” I waver.

  “Save me from some crotchety nurse who’ll want to keep me from working. Tell me you’ll come stay with me. We won’t lose valuable time that way.”

  “This is just about work?” I stiffen. For a second there, he’d made it sound like I was important, but then that’s how he woos clients. No, this is about business, and I won’t do it anymore.

  “Well, no, it’s not entirely about work.”

  “I’m sorry, James. I can’t. I’ll run the office for the two weeks, but that’s it.” I hang up. “Oh my God, did I just hang up on him?”

  “You did,” Ronnie says.

  I said no to my boss. I clasp my phone between both hands. “There’s a first time for everything.”

  “There is,” she agrees. “But maybe that wasn’t the time.”

  “What?”

  “I really don’t see what you find attractive about him,” she says. “But you just knocked back an entire week of just you and him, locked away in his house. He’d be entirely at your mercy.”

  “I won’t spend the next week cooped up in his house with him,” I sputter as I sink back into the chair. At this point, I’d be happy to escape this mess with my dignity intact. “What if he remembers that I threw myself at him? What if he can tell that I have feelings for him?”

  “No. No. No.” She twirls a finger in the air. “You are looking at this all wrong.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This is divine providence. This is opportunity knocking at your door. Well, his door. You have an entire week alone with the man. You should be thinking about how you’re going to use it to your advantage.”

  “My advantage?” I sound like a parrot.

  “Yes. Grab life by the balls, or at least my brother, and show him what kind of woman you are. He’s clueless when it comes to anything that isn’t business, but you could clue him in.”

  “And scare him away all over again?” Although, maybe if I hadn’t gone for the jugular of the issue and instead let him warm up to the idea, his reaction might not have been so stunned. And he did say he needed time to process my throwing myself at him. If there’s any chance I could seduce the man or open his eyes without making a total bollocks of it like I did last night, I have to give it a red-hot go.

  “Channel your inner Kardashia
n or something. At least tell him how you feel before you leave for good. You’ve already quit your job. May as well go all in.”

  “No more Ms. Nice Gal. Time to use all my feminine charms.” The idea is growing on me. Really, I can’t get much lower than this. She’s right: What else do I have to lose? “James is going to find out just how much of a woman I can be.”

  ***

  I catch Garrett on his way out of James’s place. He grins when he sees me. “I didn’t think you were coming. I was about to call a nurse for the demanding ass.”

  “It might as well be me,” I say. “At least he won’t be able to scare me off, and it’s only a week.”

  “That’s true.” He chuckles. “That must have been some crazy after-party you two had last night. You’ve given notice. He’s got the worst concussion I’ve ever seen.”

  “He’s not doing well then?” I let go of my suitcase to adjust my laptop bag while I juggle a tray of coffees I picked up at the bakery near my house.

  “Not as well as he’s pretending. You know how James is.”

  “Stubborn,” I offer.

  “Is one of those for me?” Garrett points at the tray.

  “Yes.” I shift the tray again to reveal the brown bag I’m clutching underneath it. “And a pastry. Figured neither of you have had breakfast.”

  “You’d be on the money with that.” He takes a cup and the bag. It crinkles as he rifles through it and finally pulls out a blueberry Danish. “Nice.”

  “That’s James’s.”

  “I know.” He grins as he bites into it, then speaks around the mouthful while he puts the bag on the tray. “Not sure he deserves it though. Why did you resign anyway?”

  “I was ready for a change.” I shrug. “Isn’t the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over and over again and expecting a different result?”

  “What result were you hoping for last night?” He grins so wide I can see flakes of pastry between his teeth.

  I shake my head. “Certainly not one where he fell off the deck.”

  He chuckles. “Well, I best leave you to it. Erin and Abby are waiting for me. Good luck with him.”