Page 48 of Let It Be Me
I get to her office an hour and a half later and I have to tell myself not to sprint inside. The receptionist is busy typing away when the elevator opens to her floor but stops when I park in front of her desk.
“Hi, is Sarah here?” I ask as charmingly as possible.
“I haven’t seen her. But she does get in before me, so you can head back and check.”
I push off her desk. “Thank you.”
The office is a little busier than the last time I was here. So I’m able to see the layout with more occupied cubicles with phones ringing, the tapping of keyboards, and the sound of the printer spitting out paper.
I round the corner to Sarah’s office but stop short when I see her lights off. Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I call her again. And again it heads straight to voicemail.
“Riley?” A moderately built man in his mid-thirties asks.
“Yeah,” I say hesitantly and finally place him. “Jeff, right?”
He nods. “I think she took a sick day. I’ve tried calling her as well and got nothing.”
I try not to let my panic show. “Okay, thanks.” I pivot to leave, but he stops me.
“Would you mind coming into my office?” Jeffs turns to his large corner office without waiting to see if I’ll follow. Idon’t want to. Every muscle is screaming at me to head to Sarah’s house. But I do what he says. Because like it or not he’s Sarah’s boss, which kind of makes him my boss. “I know about your arrangement with her.”
The door closes and I wait for Jeff to round to his desk chair. “I don’t know…”
“She already told me. But not because she wanted to. I saw the pictures and she explained everything to me.”
“So you know that we have a deadline?” I question as I lower into the seat in front of his desk.
“I do. I also know that you’re the first guy she’s attempted to date since her asshole ex screwed her over.”
“Fake dating,” I correct him.
He steeples his hands in front of his lips. “Are you trying to remind yourself of that?”
As a matter of fact, I am. But I don’t justify my need to respond. The truth is that the night we saw the Northern Lights, I knew I wanted to say to hell with our fake dating and actually date.
“You know, we’ve never needed HR to step in. Because I never thought one of my agents would date a client. But even with the arrangement you two have going on, I’ve never seen her happier. When I met Sarah, she was content, if not a little heartbroken despite still being with her ex. But when you came into the picture, it was like I didn’t even recognize her. So while I’ve never needed a meeting with her or any of the other agents, I don’t have an issue with you two together. And if that’s the way you two choose to go then we would need to give you a new publicist. Because paying her while dating her doesn’t sit right with me.”
I survey him while he talks about Sarah. I don’t see any lust or longing hidden in the depths of his brown eyes. Just care. He may be one of the first people to show her lovebecause it’s clear her parents never did. At least not in the way that it counts. But it doesn’t stop me from checking. “Do you care about her?”
“Not the way you do.”
I furrow my brows and will him to continue.
“Sarah is like a little sister to me. Bothers me like one too. But, no. When I hired Sarah, I had just buried my wife and was learning how to be a single father to two kids. She saved the three of us whether she likes to take credit or not.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I tell him. I lost my parents. But he lost his wife. His kids lost their mother. I don’t know how anyone can look so put together and be as successful as he is. Sarah taking care of them is the kid of person she is whether she realizes it or not.
“Thank you. Well, I’m sure you want to check on Sarah?” I nod my head and his smile is warm. “She keeps her spare key under the mat in front of her door.” My look of shock and horror has him laughing. “I know. I’ve told her that’s the worst hiding spot and the first place anyone would check to easily break-in. So maybe you can be the one to drill it into her head.”
“Maybe.” I say and stand up. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
My stride is steady, if not a little hurried, as I let my legs carry me out of the office and to my car. Even though I was at Sarah’s house a couple of times, I still remember how to get there. And fifteen minutes later I’m pulling up and parking at the curb. Her cars in the driveway lead me to believe that she’s fine. But another part of me tells me she’s not. I knock soft but firm and wait for her to answer the door. After a few minutes of waiting for it to open, I look under the mat, and sure enough a key is there, so I let myselfinside and make sure to lock the door and set the key on the entryway table.
“Sarah?” I call out. Nothing. I stroll down the hall to her living room and find it empty. Taking my shoes off, I climb the stairs to her office. Again, nothing. My feet lead me to her bedroom and I see a human-sized lump in the middle of her bed. The blinds and curtains are shut leaving the room dark despite the sun on maximum brightness today.
I pull off my jeans and shirt, because outside clothes in bed are gross, and lift the covers to her sleeping form.
