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Another laugh, because the string of emojis that followed said the offer was tongue-in-cheek. She’d replied that the view was lovely even without the rest. Then taken another look at the photo.
Even now, in her car, Daphne sighed at the memory of that photo. It was definitely going in her nightstand drawer. Such a gorgeous man. Pure fantasy fodder, which was where he needed to remain. It’d be easy to jump on the signs he wasn’t quite the asshole he seemed… and use the excuse to jump on him. But she needed to keep this professional.
Even if he wasn’t her employee—which he was—and even if he was interested—which he wasn’t—Daphne wasn’t emotionally built for flings. She’d always had boyfriends, and past high school, each boyfriend could have been the one. That was how she chose them. She knew she’d get emotionally invested, and she wouldn’t do that with anyone she couldn’t envision beside her in twenty years.
Those post–high school relationships had eventually come to amicable ends as she realized they weren’t “the one.”
Then came Anthony. She wouldn’t say he was perfect. Any guy who seemed perfect was scamming you. But he’d been perfect for her. A fellow architect who shared her love of the outdoors and who read her writing and encouraged her to continue.
Anthony saw through her chilly exterior and understood how deeply she cared. In return, she’d let him in more than she’d ever let any of those previous boyfriends. She’d finally accepted his invitation to move in and hadn’t renewed the lease on her apartment.
Then came her mom’s cancer diagnosis, and Daphne was no longer the baggage-free woman Anthony had fallen for. She had responsibilities and, worse, she embraced those responsibilities because it was her mom, damn it.
Daphne didn’t have siblings. Her dad left when she was young. It had always been just her and her mom. Now the most important person in Daphne’s life was dying, and Anthony was complaining because she had to cancel lunch to accompany her mother to chemo. Daphne and Anthony would have decades of lunches, but he didn’t understand this was all she had with her mom. When the chemo was no longer working, Daphne had to reschedule a weekend getaway to discuss her mother’s final stages, and that proved to be the last straw for Anthony.
The experience taught her a valuable lesson about relationships. Mom had raised her to be self-sufficient and independent and to find someone who accepted that about her, embraced it even. Daphne had thought Anthony was that person. In reality, he’d only embraced her independence when it meant she wasn’t relying on him for help. Once that independence inconvenienced him, it was another story.
Having been through that, she knew there wasn’t room for anyone in her life right now. That life had changed so much in the past few years. Mom’s death, moving to the Yukon, getting her book published. If she brought anyone into that, she risked them turning out to be another Anthony, happy to accommodate her “eccentric” life until they realized it wasn’t a whim, that she didn’t intend to move south again, didn’t intend to go back to a stable career as an architect.
All of that had nothing to do with Chris Ainsworth, who would be horrified if she was thinking the word “boyfriend” and him in the same headspace.
What mattered now was that she would repay his brownies with a nice gift. He’d said he liked single-malt scotch during an interview.
Daphne pulled out her phone and began searching for a Vancouver delivery service.
CHRIS
Chris sat at the kitchen island in his condo, perched on a high stool, chin resting on his hands as he stared at the very expensive bottle and wished he liked scotch.
A card lay beside it with a typed message, printed by the delivery service.
Chris,
The brownies were delicious! The perfect remedy for release-day stress. Thank you. And thank you for everything you’ve done. You have made everything about this process better and easier. I’m not sure I could have done it without you, and I wouldn’t have wanted to try.
Daphne
That message was the mirror image of the note he wished he could have sent Daphne with the brownies. She’d always been quick with her gratitude for his work, but that was polite praise, careful not to rocket Chris Ainsworth’s mile-high ego into the stratosphere. Here, she’d let her guard down.
Except it wasn’t Chris Stanton she was thanking. It was Chris Ainsworth, and the scotch drove that point home with the force of a baseball bat.
When he first opened the gift, he’d deflated. It seemed the kind of generic present you might pick for a guy you didn’t know well. Then he’d realized it wasn’t generic at all—he’d mentioned liking scotch in an interview. Daphne had taken the time to choose a thoughtful gift. The problem was, it was thoughtful for the Chris she knew.
Part of him said to stop, just stop. This was a professional relationship, and his crush on Daphne violated her trust in him. But, see, there was the loophole. Chris Ainsworth was her employee, and Chris Stanton had the crush. That made it okay, right?
Yeah, probably not.
He fingered the scotch label. Then he straightened and went to find a tumbler so he could send Daphne a photo of her gift being properly appreciated.
As for the rest, he’d figure that out later.
CHAPTER FOUR
MAY 22
Daphne: Edge is going to debut number two on the New York Times list!
Chris: That’s good, right?
