Page 49 of At His Beck & Call

I glance back at James, who is smirking at me, the wind ruffling his hair, his handsome face bathed in light as the sun comes out from behind the clouds.

I drag Henry away as quickly as I can, stuck at the back of the line as we all file onto the bus. Henry and I just make it on, and it’s packed.

As the bus moves off, I look back at the steps to our apartment, where James is still standing, watching us go.

I can only pray he never finds out about Henry’s condition, but, right now, it feels unlikely.

By the time I get to the office, it’s past 9, and Adelaide gives me a concerned look when I get to my desk, coming over to stand beside it, watching me remove my bag.

“Is everything alright? You look like you’ve been crying,” she says, as I glance up at her in surprise. I was expecting a tirade about my lateness, but instead she looks worried.

“Oh,” I say quietly. “No, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

My coat is half off, bag hanging loosely from my fingers. I’m so exhausted I can barely think straight, and I shrug.

“Just family stuff. My son’s not well.”

Adelaide’s eyes soften instantly. “I’m sorry to hear that, Lissa. Do you need some time off?”

“No!” I say desperately. “No, I need to be here. I need this job.”

“That’s not what I…” She trails off, shuffling the envelopes in her hands together, and pats me gently on the arm. “You’re doing great here. I hope you know that. Not many people can figure it all out as fast as you have.”

“Thanks, Adelaide.”

“Would you mind giving these to Noah? I said I would get Mr. Heath his coffee.”

She hands me some files and the envelopes and walks away. After I’ve checked my makeup and straightened my clothes, smoothing back my hair and hoping I look somewhat presentable, I go into the conference room.

Noah is sitting at the table, a pen between his fingers, one hand shoved into his hair, reading over a pile of papers. There’s a highlighter in his mouth, and as he looks up, I notice how bloodshot his eyes are.

“Hey,” he says, removing the highlighter and smiling at me. “Oh, thanks.”

I hand him the files, looking around the room. A lot of the boxes have been moved around, and some of the archived ones have been replaced with more robust plastic bins that make everything look more official.

“Thanks for your help,” he says warmly. “I couldn’t have done all this without you. Oliver mentioned that you’re mainly working with Adelaide, so I’m not allowed to steal you for this case. Hated to hear that.”

I laugh, grateful for the praise. “Well, at least it was helpful while it lasted,” I say. “Is this everything that’s coming?”

“I think so. Although there might be a few more boxes arriving tomorrow, but I’m told it’s only about twenty or so.” He grimaces, and it’s so over the top I chuckle, shaking my head at him.

“There is one good thing about you working with Adelaide, though,” he says, his eyes flicking to the door behind me.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Well, there’s no conflict of interest now. Not that there would have been a big one before.”

“Conflict of interest?”

“About me asking you out for a drink. I figured I’d shoot my shot. What do I have to lose except my pride, right?”

My throat tightens as his bright, overly enthused green eyes meet mine.

Holy shit, did I just get asked on a date?

Noah seems nice, but do I really want todatehim, given everything going on?