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“Don’t take this the wrong way,” I said, “but it’s none of your business.”
I waited for her to get pissed, but Linda just shrugged. “That’s true. But Riley is a good person and a great assistant, and she especially needs money right now, so I don’t want her to quit a job she loves that pays well because of a crush on her boss.”
Still defensive and angry, I asked, “Why should we be concerned with her financial situation or what she spends her money on?”
Lina frowned at me. “Because we’re not assholes? It’s not her fault her mother has cancer.”
I stared dumbfounded at Lina. “Riley’s mother has cancer?”
“Shit,” Lina said. “I shouldn’t have told you that. Fuck, I am running on way too little sleep to have normal adult conversations.”
“What does Riley’s mother having cancer have to do with her finances?” I asked.
Lina sighed. “Riley is helping pay for her mother’s chemo. Hey, don’t mention I told you this, okay? I don’t think Riley even meant to tell me, but it slipped out when she was upset and… ugh.” Lina rolled her eyes. “Mom brain is a thing. Don’t let anyone tell you it isn’t.”
I stared in stunned silence at Lina. I couldn’t process anything beyond how much of a fucking asshole I was.
“You okay?” Lina asked.
“I’m an asshole,” I said.
“I suppose we all can be at some point,” she said. “It’s what we do after we’ve been an asshole that counts.”
She stood and walked to the door, pausing before she opened it. “Riley’s a lovely person with a forgiving nature. Even to assholes. Have a good weekend, Deacon.”
She left, and I waited about forty-five seconds before jumping up and sprinting across my office. I tore open the door and stared at Riley’s desk. It was empty, and I muttered a curse before checking my watch. It was after five, and she was gone, left to be someone else’s good girl because I was a heartless shithead to her.
Fuck!
I stomped back into my office and stared at my desk.
Think, asshole.
My heart thudding and thumping, I grabbed my phone and called Celeste. The phone rang in my ear, and I paced the room. “C’mon, Celeste. Pick up the goddamn phone.”
“Deacon, hello, darling. How are you?” Celeste’s cigarette-roughened voice was fucking music to my ears.
“Celeste, I need to book Ri - Charlotte for tonight and the entire weekend.”
“Charlotte isn’t -”
“I know she has other clients now but tell her I’ll pay double her fee for the entire weekend,” I said. “Message her right now, Celeste.”
“Deacon, take a breath,” Celeste said sharply.
“I need you to message her,” I said.
“Darling, I can’t. Charlotte is no longer an employee at the agency.”
I stopped pacing, dropping onto the small leather couch with a grunt. “What?”
“She quit, darling. Right after you cancelled your last booking with her.”
“She quit,” I repeated.
“Yes,” Celeste said. “It was quite a shame, really. We’d hoped under your tutelage, she’d blossom and become a favourite among our other clients.”
“She hasn’t taken any contracts for anyone in the last two weeks?” I said.
