Page 25 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

“I’m up to trying some saltines.”Hopefully.“I’m almost afraid to ask what I look like.”

His eyes crinkled. “Still a little pale, but much better than this morning. Will you be okay?”

“The room’s not spinning anymore.”

“You’ll call if you need me?”

He looked so earnest, the guilt within her multiplied. “I’ll yell, I promise.”

Nodding, he took the glass and left the room.

Instantly, she was bereft at his absence—a small hole opening in her chest. His quiet strength had gotten her through the emotional examination of her behavior last night.You know better. She had no tolerance for alcohol, and it always went straight to her head. Last night, she’d gotten drunk with a stranger down the hall. Well, not a stranger. Just…someone she didn’t know very well.

Gingerly making her way to the bathroom, she discovered her sea legs. As she’d assured him, the room was no longer spun. She splashed cold water on her face.I feel almost human.

She entered the kitchen, and he sat at the table, waiting for her. A plate of crackers and another glass of ginger ale also waited for her.

“If you eat that, there are some vegetables I chopped up for the girls. There are leftovers.”

She nodded. That sounded nutritious and too much to handle.

“I appreciate you took care of the girls.”

He gave her an odd look. “I already care for Mira. Adding Calleigh is no big deal. My concern is that the girls need you. Calleigh especially, but Mira as well.”

“I’ve tried. I’ve tried to be there for Calleigh.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d have to swallow her pride as well. “I told you I’m not equipped to do this alone.”

“That’s why I’m here. You’re not alone anymore.”

With detachment, she watched as he placed his hand on hers. This was the third time he’d touched her. Amazing. Instead of her customary panic at human contact, her heart rate settled. His assurances made her believe maybe she could do this.

Demonstrating his sensitivity, he withdrew his hand. “Although it’s not the healthiest of meals, I’m making hot dogs for dinner. Would that be okay?”

“I trust you to select the food. Calleigh likes pasta, so I’ve fed that to her a lot. I’m going to have to expand my repertoire.”

“What do you normally eat?”

“Takeout. Chinese, sushi, pizza. Whatever’s easiest. Sometimes I pick it up on my way home, and sometimes we order it at the office.”

“How often do you work late?”

She paused. “At least two nights a week. Sometimes more.”

“And the nights you bring work home?”

Her cheeks pinked, chagrined. “Most nights.” How to explain? “Until two weeks ago, my work was everything. I put in the hours because that’s all I knew.”

“What about the others in your office? Does everyone put in those insane hours?”

“Just my boss. Zach is driven like the hounds of hell are nipping at his heels.”

Never had truer words been spoken. He was the first one there in the morning and the last one to leave at night. He demanded high quality of work produced by others, while being less stringent on the quantity of time. But she’d set a precedent. From day one, she matched her boss’s workload. Her ambition stood her in good stead, as he’d given her more and more responsibilities. Would she be able to give that up? Did she want to?”

“Zach’s only a few years older than me.” Rusty tapped the table with his index finger. “How is it he’s your boss?”

“He’s ambitious. Right out of law school, he took three questionable cases. Cases where his boss wanted to take a plea bargain, but Zach was convinced he could win. He did. He’s not much older than me, but I’m not surprised he has people working for him. He’s a natural leader. And a force to be reckoned with.”

She respected her boss, revered his intellect, and trusted his instincts. And although she admired him physically, there was no attraction between them. Just two single people who worked way too hard. Neither had a social life, and they both accepted that. At least she assumed Zach didn’t have anyone. God knows she didn’t.

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