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So if he’s talking about it now, then something is up with him. Something big.
I stare longingly at my bedroom door, behind which Trinity is sleeping.
I don’t want her to wake up alone, but it’s Ian. If he needs me, that trumps everything else.
Fine. I’ll shuffle things around.
I text my assistant first and ask her to come in. I have no idea what Ian is going to need, so I want her on hand just in case. I rarely ask her to work weekends, so I don’t mind doing it occasionally.
Then I go check on the hens. They’re snoozing away in the darkened closet, so I grab some clothes in the dark and dress in the bathroom without waking them. By then, my coffee is ready, but Trinity is still sleeping. I write her a quick note, leave it on the counter and sneak out.
My assistant, Kendra, beats me to the office and has coffee brewing, thank god. I’ve already downed the coffee from home and am on my second mug by the time Ian arrives.
I’m not sure exactly why I didn’t see the shit storm coming.
Maybe I’m still in a sex-induced haze. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep. Maybe the caffeine just hasn’t kicked in yet. Hell, maybe I’m just not as smart as I’ve always thought I was
Whatever the reason, I still don’t recognize the epic quagmire of excrement my life is becoming until too late.
“Where the hell is everyone else? Does no one else in your office even show up anymore?”
I was piddling around in email when Ian walked in, my hands still on the keyboard at his words. Then I push my chair back and arch an eyebrow, waiting for him to figure it out. When he doesn’t, I state the obvious. “It’s Sunday.”
“Really?”
It’s all I can do not to laugh out loud. I’ve missed this. “Yes. Really.”
Ian gets so lost in work—whatever work he’s doing at the time—that days of the week blur together. Hell, sometimes months blur together.
“If it’s Sunday, why are you in the office?”
“Because my asshole best friend who I haven’t seen in two months messaged me first thing in the morning and said he wanted to meet me. That’s why.”
“Then why was your assistant here?”
“Because I pay her very well to come in on Sundays if I need her to. Since you have literally never demanded to see me on such short notice before, I didn’t know what the hell was up.”
“You could’ve said it was Sunday and told me to fuck off.” He pauses, head tipped to the side as he pieces something together. “Do you normally work on Sundays?”
“No.” Except since he moved out to the lake last year and I realized how empty my social life is. “Okay, sometimes.”
“Were you working today?”
“No. I was not in the office before nine this morning.”
“Then what things did you have to move around?”
The image of Trinity in my bed flashes through my mind. Of the day I had planned as I was drifting off to sleep. A day full of more sex. More of feeding her. More of watching her care for those silly birds of hers. More of whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it.
But no amount of getting laid trumps Ian if he needs me. So I’m here.
And I’m not about to give the slightest hint that I’d rather be somewhere else, so I say the most ridiculous thing I can think of.
“Well, there were three women in my bed when I woke up, so I had to move them around to get up.”
“Seriously?”
I can’t tell if Ian is impressed or horrified. Knowing Ian, probably horrified. “No. Not seriously. Jesus, don’t be such a dumb ass.”
