Page 28 of It Happened Again

Maisy rubbed the back of her neck and rolled her head. “He was different, at first.”

I crossed my arms. “You mean before you became a threat?”

She shot me a questioning look. “I’m not a threat.”

“You are,” I said gently, assessing the situation given things she’s told me about Julian in the past. “In all the best ways. You’re smarter than he probably ever expected. More ambitious than he thought you had the right to be. Definitely more beautiful. And now you’re doing something he didn’t see coming without his permission.”

Her eyes flicked to mine, telling me I read the situation accurately. “He always said he wanted to protect me. But now it feels like he wanted to control me.”

I stepped closer again. “You don’t owe him anything.”

Her breath shivered out. “Sometimes it feels like I do. I wouldn’t be here if not for him.”

“No. You’re here because of you.”

She tilted her head back, eyes gleaming. “You always say things like that. With so much certainty.”

“Because I know you. I know how hard you’ve worked to be here. How much you want to be taken seriously? Most of all, I know what—and who—you gave up in order to pursue your work.” I kept the smirk to myself. “This field still makes women prove themselves twice over. You’re doing it without compromise. I admire the hell out of you for that.”

Her voice cracked. “It gets tiring at times, proving myself.”

“Stressful, too, I’ll bet? You need a room of your own, like the one you’re building here.” An idea formed in my head.

“Wouldn’t that be something?”

“Then stop proving. Start owning it. You’re Maisy-fucking-Calhoun. Let the world hear you roar, baby. And soon, everything you desire will be yours.”

“So, you’re an architectanda life coach now?” She snickered and teased.

“Only for you.”

Good thing she couldn’t read my mind and see all the plans I drew up for her life. The ultimate blueprints for her happiness. And if I could make her happy someday, that’d be all I’d need.

Later that night,Archer flung open my office door without knocking, balancing two tumblers of scotch and his usual air of self-importance.

“You look like a man who either just got laid or is about to,” he said, handing me a glass.

“As every day passes, it’s within the realm of possibility,” I muttered, but took the drink.

He collapsed in the chair across from my desk. “So, what’s going on with Maisy?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you ask about my love life?”

“Since it’s interfering with your concentration and making Lacey whisper in corners about how you’ve gone soft.”

I sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s Maisy. It’s always been complicated.”

“And Lacey can mind her own business.” I stared down into the amber swirl of my drink. “It’s different this time with Maisy.”

“Different good, or different like ‘Brooks is about to make a colossally shitty mistake and I’ll have to hire someone to clean up the mess he leaves behind’ kind of different?”

“Good,” I said. “A challenge, but good.”

Archer lifted his glass in a mock salute. “Just don’t screw it up.Again.”

“I don’t plan to.” My phone buzzed on the desk. Richard Buchanan’s name popped up.

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