Page 56 of Miss Understanding

I held up my hand to knock when the door opened to reveal her in a messy bun and dressed in only her Ram’s jersey—apparently fresh from the shower.

“Hi,” she greeted tentatively.

I tried unsuccessfully not to breathe in her fresh scent. Nothing like a distraction when my entire career was held in the balance. Named partners did not have flings with their assistants. “Hi.”

We both stood there, staring at one another. I was trying to work out what I would say when she beat me to it.

“I’m sorry about earlier. In the storage room. I didn’t mean to take advantage. I wasn’t thinking, and then I really wasn’t thinking. And I apologize.”

“What?” What in the hell was she saying? Why the hell was she apologizing?

“It was your father’s funeral and you were feeling vulnerable and having a tough time. It was supposed to be a fake kiss, then it— Well, you were there to know the rest. I’ve beaten myself up over and over about the timing. I know you had serious regret on your face, and I caused you to leave which—”

She could not be serious. “Stop.” I couldn’t let her continue to feel one ounce of responsibility in this. So much for proceeding with caution. Her candor took me completely off guard. “This was not you. It’s on me. I’m the one who screwed up. If you plan to go to HR about me, I wouldn’t blame you, but I’d like for you to give me the courtesy of discussing it first.”

She was shaking her head. “What are you talking about?”

The words were bitter on my tongue. “I crossed a line. A big one. It’s inexcusable.” She was twenty-four. I was her boss. I’d insisted she come here this week. I was in a position of power, and I’d abused it. I was unprepared for her temper.

“Is this because I reported my last boss? Am I now that girl? I know the damn difference between getting an unwanted grope of my ass at a Christmas party and taking part in a consensual kiss.”

“No. Jesus. I didn’t mean to imply you were. I have no clue where your head is regarding what happened.” If she wanted to, she could threaten everything I’d ever worked for.

“You think I’m trying to use this to—what? Get you fired?”

My temple throbbed. “You very well could if you wanted to.”

She studied me. “I’m trying to figure out if something happened to you to make you this cynical in general, or if this is personal towards me.”

“It’s not personal, Kendall; it’s just—” I was cynical. I took a deep breath. “I need to know that come tomorrow morning we can be back to normal. Can we do that?” What I wanted to say was could I trust her? Or would this end up being the worst mistake of my life?

“We can be normal tomorrow. You have my word on it.”

Here was hoping I could trust her.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Liam

My alarm went off way too early. Not even the shower could make me feel human with the hangover I was sporting. After speaking with Kendall last night, I’d gone up to the office and polished off my bottle of bourbon. It hadn’t been my wisest decision. Chalk it up to a day full of bad ones. Since I was normally cautious about how much I drank, I was a serious lightweight when it came to paying for any overindulgence. I slurped water from the tap, took some Advil, and dressed slowly. Then I had to pack.

By the time I went downstairs, I could tell Kendall had been busy. The trash had been taken out. All of the files were packed. Her suitcases were already placed by the front door. She was currently wiping down the counters and table.

“What can I do?” I asked, my voice sounding rough.

She barely made eye contact. “Nothing, except take a shower and pack. There’s coffee in the pot if you want it. If not, then I’ll throw it out.”

She was almost cold. Efficient, but cold. She was acting as if it was before we’d sat in this living room over wine and spilled our guts.

“I’ll drink the coffee. Is everything all right?” I decided to put a toe in the water to see if she was still upset with me over yesterday.

Her expression softened. “Yes. Fine.”

“Anything else we need to do with the house?”

“Nope. You gave the wood to your mom, and the flights are on time.”

When I went outside to load the truck, I expected Kendall would already be sitting inside it, but instead she was in the yard, attempting to make a snowman with the four inches we’d gotten. She wasn’t having any luck getting it to form.