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Cherish lifted her eyes to Febe’s. Pain radiated in Febe’s eyes—and concern.
“Please don’t fire her.”
Febe’s jaw clenched, and a few seconds passed. Cherish’s heart sank in her chest, joining that unease in her stomach.
“All right.” Febe nodded. “For you.”
“Really?” Cherish wanted to make sure she hadn’t missed something else in her haze of pain.
“I won’t fire her. But you need to keep a closer eye on her. I don’t want to know anything more about this gala, not until I’m there with a drink in my hand.” Febe curled fingers against Cherish’s burning cheeks. Except Cherish was cold under her skin. Was that even possible? Hot on top and cold underneath?
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Cherish murmured.
“Please take the pills, Cherish.” Febe’s voice was that of the friend Cherish had known back home. The one Cherish had fallen in love with. Nostalgia washed over Cherish, adding to her confusion and agony. “I’ll get your things.”
Cherish said nothing. What could she say? Febe was back to the woman from all those years ago, the one who cared about her, the one who saw her. Cherish didn’t want to lose that feeling. Febe turned the lights off in the main office and then her office before snagging her purse from her desk. She helped Cherish stand up, a hand on her arm as they walked slowly out the door and toward the parking garage.
It took too much effort to focus on staying upright. Cherish couldn’t even think to form a sentence until Febe pulled up outside of her apartment building. “Do you need help up?”
“I think I can make it.” Cherish winced. She should have caught the migraine before it got that bad. She was usually better about that.
“Come in late tomorrow.”
“You know that won’t happen, boss.” Cherish mustered up a small smile, turning her head to look Febe directly in the eye. How much had they changed over the years? Too much. But underneath it all, Cherish could see the Febe she’d fallen in love with, the smart small-town girl who couldn’t wait to get out. “You should call Stuart.”
“Stuart?” Febe stilled. “I haven’t talked to him in a few months.”
Cherish knew that. Despite suggesting it before, she was going to do this again. Her brother and Febe had always been close, even after they’d broken up. “Call him. I think he might be able to help.”
“Help with what?” Febe frowned.
“You know what,” Cherish whispered. She was completely still, staring into those pale blue eyes, the crestfallen face, as the realization dawned on Febe. As soon as that happened, Cherish tightened her grasp on the door handle. “I’ll see you in the morning, Ms. Aarts.”
By the next morning, Cherish was ready to go. She pushed her shoulders back as she stepped out of the elevator. It was time to face Haylee. She had wanted to message Haylee as soon as she’d woken up, and the very idea caught her breath.
What had gotten into her?
She pushed aside the voice inside her head mocking her, telling her she knew exactly what was happening. But it couldn’t be a crush. Because her entire life revolved around Febe. No one else.
And Haylee was nothing like Febe. She pushed open the glass door to find Haylee already at her desk. Despite the fact that Cherish was right on time when she was normally early, she couldn’t help but bite back the smile that Haylee was there before her. A newly common occurrence.
“Good morning.” Haylee looked up, a fearful smile on her face.
“Good morning, Haylee.” Cherish hoped the hesitation in her voice was obvious. The woman turned back to her computer and the tapping of keys on the keyboard resumed.
Was it going to be that easy? Could Cherish simply continue on as though her awful behavior yesterday hadn’t happened? She would give anything to have that twisting lump in her throat dissolve. But it would be impossible until they talked this out, and it was her responsibility to start the conversation.
“Haylee, could you please—” Febe stopped as she looked up, and her eyes met Cherish’s. “Cherish.” Her voice was a breath of surprise. “I’m glad to see you looking better.”
“Good morning, Ms. Aarts.” Cherish nodded and moved to her seat. On her desk was a cup of coffee, steam still wafting up from the small sipping hole.
Haylee.
It had to be, because in all the years Cherish had worked for Febe, this wasn’t her MO. This had Haylee written all over it. Cherish set up her desk while Febe and Haylee spoke about work. She couldn’t help but look at Haylee just as much as she was drawn to Febe. Perhaps more.
But no. She shook her head and sat down. It was time to work. She would apologize to Haylee and this damn feeling in her stomach would go away and things would go back to normal.
All day that feeling sat in the middle of Cherish’s belly like a lead weight. They’d gotten along well enough to get work done, but everything was so professional. Cherish couldn’t believe it, but she missed the real Haylee. When Haylee reached into her desk to pack up, Cherish knew now was her chance.
