Dalton, Tymber - Contractual Obligation (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (20 page)

He stood. “Are you okay?”

She looked at him, swaying on her feet. Before she hit the ground, he raced to her side and caught her, carrying her back to the couch. He headed to her desk to grab the phone and call for help when he spotted a blood sugar monitor, one of the compact all-in-one kinds, lying on her desk, next to her purse.

He grabbed it and raced back to her, holding it up so she could see it. “Are you a diabetic?” She didn’t appear to be wearing any kind of medical alert bracelet or necklace.

She tried to sit up but couldn’t. He steadied her as he used the monitor to check her blood. She tried to push him away, mumbling incoherently, but he wrapped an arm tightly around her as he waited for the results. “Hold still.” Then it flashed her sugar level on the screen.

“Dammit, you’re at fifty!” He glanced around and spotted the minifridge behind her desk. Rummaging through it, he found not only her insulin, but several bottles of apple juice, as well as some other, healthy snacks. He grabbed a bottle of juice and quickly brought it to her, forcing her to drink it as he sat next to her, one arm around her shoulder, his other hand holding the bottle to her lips.

After a few moments, she quit fighting him, took the bottle from him, and sat up under her own strength. “Thank you,” she muttered.

He breathed a deep sigh of relief. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“I’m sorry.” She looked embarrassed, red in the face.

“It’s okay. You need to be more careful with that, though.”

“I usually am. I didn’t feel like eating, and I exercised at lunch time instead of at night.” She finished the juice and looked at him. “How’d you know what to do?”

“Doug’s mom’s a diabetic.”

“Oh. Right.” She laughed harshly.

“What?”

She shook her head. “You aren’t going to believe this. He doesn’t know about my diabetes.”

“Who?”

“Doug.”

“How is that possible?”

“I never told him.” She carefully stood, picked up the monitor, and took it back to her desk. She got a couple of string cheese sticks from the fridge and slowly ate them. “I hid it from him. None of my staff knows. Only my father and Gorden, my former assistant. And he’s like a father to me.”

“What’s the big deal?”

“It’s a big deal to me.” She turned to him. “I value my privacy. I don’t want anyone feeling sorry for me.”

“Yeah, but if you drop in front of a meeting full of—”

“I am normally much more careful than I was today.” She took a deep breath. “Sorry. I shouldn’t snap at you. It’s my own damn fault for not eating.”

“Well, if you’re involved with Doug, you should tell him. He’s going to find out eventually.”

* * * *

She stared at Tate. He had to be an extraordinary man to not hate her right now.

That only made her feel more guilty.

That’s when an idea hit her. “I sent him over to London this morning on business. He’ll be gone at least four to six weeks, possibly longer.”

“Oh.”

She perched on the corner of her desk. “So tell me about yourself. What do you do?”

“I underwhelm my parents by not pursuing a better job that utilizes my MBA. I was promoted at the place I work at after Doug left. I make enough to live by myself.” He shrugged. “I just haven’t felt the urge to better myself lately.” He sighed. “I guess now I can move on.”

“How would you like to make a hundred grand a year?”

He laughed. “Um, yeah, I’d love to. Unfortunately, I don’t make half that.”

“You can. If you come work for me.”

He stared at her. “What are you saying?”

“I’ll hire you.”

“What about Doug?”

She shrugged. “What about him? I was going to have to hire someone else to help out sooner or later.”

He held up his hands. “Hold on. I thought you said you and Doug were involved with each other?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t feel right about that now that I know about you. Here’s the deal. I’ll hire you, and when he gets back, the two of you can pick up where you left off. I still need Doug’s help with my situation. But…” This already hurt. She knew she’d regret giving Doug up for the rest of her life, but she couldn’t live with her guilt, either. “No one needs to know he and I aren’t an item. Let everyone think we still are.”

“What about his nondisclosure agreement?”

“I’ll get everything modified. You sign on, with a nondisclosure agreement of your own, for the remaining term of his contract. When it’s over, the two of you are free to do whatever you want.”

* * * *

This was crazy. Unbelievable. He wanted to punch himself in the thigh to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.

He also couldn’t say no. “Okay. You just hired yourself another assistant. When do I start?”

“Today.”

“What?”

She nodded. “Today. I’ll get everything set up with human resources, call Gorden in to help train you in a crash course, and you’ll start immediately.”

“But I need to quit my other job. And I need to move.”

“Fine. Call them and quit. Tell them it’s an emergency. I’ll pay to move you down here. Hire movers.”

“Where will I live?”

She smiled. “With me, of course.”

* * * *

Tate felt like he was being bounced around in the middle of a crazy tornado. He couldn’t believe what was happening to him, much less that he might have a chance of getting back together with Doug. He felt bad having to break the news to Jenny. He called her as he drove home to Gainesville that evening. Fortunately, she understood, and he didn’t have to go any further than telling her it was a chance to get back together with Doug.

As he surveyed the apartment, he realized there really wasn’t a lot he wanted to take. Except for their bed, which they bought new out of fear of bedbugs, everything else in their apartment in the way of furniture was second-hand or cheap-ass discount-store crap. And if he’d be living at Harper’s, he wouldn’t even need the bed.

By the time he finished packing his clothes and personal belongings, he still had room to spare in his car. The next morning, he called a couple of his friends he knew were hurting for cash and let them pick through and take what they wanted before they helped him move the rest of the stuff outside to the sidewalk, where he put up a “Free, Take Us!” sign. By the time the apartment had been emptied, most of the items they’d put outside were gone.

Tate felt close to dropping from exhaustion as he drove back to Tampa after midnight. He called Harper, and she gave him directions on how to get to her house from the interstate.

It was nearly four in the morning when he reached her driveway. He decided to leave the unpacking for later. She led him to his room, which had its own bathroom.

He collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * * *

The next afternoon, Tate awoke with a start, feeling disoriented.

What the fuck?

Then it all came back to him. He was at Harper’s.

He hadn’t really had a chance to look around when he came in. Now, as he sat up in bed, he spotted familiar items that made his heart ache. Doug’s favorite books, pictures of his family.

The three dragon sculptures he’d given Doug on each of his past three birthdays.

That made him choke up. He got out of bed and walked over to the shelf. Displayed prominently next to pictures of his family.

Then he saw another picture. Of the framed pictures of them together that Doug had taken when he left, the only one he had out in the open was one of him and Doug sitting next to each other at a friend’s barbecue party. This was the only picture where they weren’t hugging or kissing or had their arms around each other.

In other words, innocent looking.

He remembered the Saturday afternoon when it was taken, soon after they’d started seeing each other. They’d gone back to Doug’s that night and made love until dawn, slept all morning, and spent Sunday naked in Doug’s apartment, watching movies and making love.

Pushing the memory away, he headed to the bathroom. When he emerged, he heard a knock on the door. “Yeah?”

Harper opened the door and peeked in. “I heard you were up. Do you want breakfast or lunch?”

“What time is it?”

“Two. I’m working from here today, said I wasn’t feeling good. I wanted to be here to go over stuff with you and help you unpack.”

“You don’t have to help me.”

“I want to.” They stared at each other for a moment. “Look,” she said, “I know this has to be weird for you, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. And I’m sorry.”

“Quit apologizing. You didn’t do anything wrong. Because of you, Carl and Sarah won’t lose their home. They’re good people who hit a bad patch.” He looked around the room. It was bigger than the bedroom he and Doug had shared at the apartment.

Hell, it was nearly as big as their whole apartment. “I would like to ask a favor, though.”

“Sure.”

He looked her squarely in the eye. “When Doug gets back, tell him about your diabetes.”

Her expression clouded. “He doesn’t need to know.”

“Listen, his dirty little secret—me—was a lot bigger than yours. He has a right to know. You barely know me and you trust me with it.”

“I didn’t really have a choice.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He walked over to her. She was pretty. Not runway-model-gorgeous, but real. The kind of woman who had a kind heart, but who thought she needed to keep a steel wall up to protect it whether she wanted to or not. “Whatever kind of act you think it is you have to put on for everyone else, when it’s just you and me, I want to see the real Harper. No bullshit. You’ve had to deal with a lot in the past few days, and so have I. We’re on the same team here, and I think the least we can do is be totally honest with each other.” He held out his hand to her. “Deal?”

She nodded as she took his hand and shook. “Deal,” she softly agreed.

He gave her a smile and finally got a sad one in return.

Damn, he wanted to take that sadness away from her. Just the short amount of time he’d spent with her showed him she was a good-hearted woman. It wasn’t her fault Doug had deceived her, and as upset as Tate felt at Doug, he could understand his former lover’s rationale.

He could also see why Doug would fall for Harper.

They ate pizza in the living room that night in front of the TV. They talked about themselves and about Doug. By the time they bid each other goodnight and headed for their separate bedrooms, Tate had the beginning seeds of an idea just crazy enough to possibly work.

First things first, he’d have to learn the job and get Harper to trust him.

Chapter Eighteen

Crazy didn’t begin to describe the next several weeks of Tate’s life. With no secrets between them, Tate and Harper became fast friends. Tate was glad he didn’t have to explain their deal to Gorden, because Harper told the man in no uncertain terms that the topic of discussion was totally off the table.