Page 131 of A Perfect Fit

Aaron cackles. “Exactly.”

“It’s a fair trade,” I chime in. “Isabelle needed someone to make sure she stops being late to everything.”

Isabelle rolls her eyes playfully. “Touché.”

After ordering and grabbing our coffees, Aaron and I head back to Carter Marketing Solutions. Settling in my office, I bury my head in work for the next few hours.

Lunchtime rolls around, and Aaron pops his head around my door. “Wanna grab lunch together?”

“Can’t, sorry.” I gesture to the large pile of paperwork in front of me. “I have to finish going through these.”

“You sure? I was thinking we could get a chopped cheese sandwich from that bodega we went to last week again.” Aaron groans. “I’m already salivating just thinking about it.”

“Maybe next time. These papers aren’t giving me a break, unfortunately.”

Aaron cocks a brow. “You know you’re supposed to delegate, right? Not do everything yourself.”

I shrug. “It’s urgent, and I don’t want to overload the team. Everyone’s got enough on their plate already.”

Grabbing a highlighter, I flip through the first few pages of a marketing campaign I’m reviewing and making changes to. When I glance up, Aaron’s still standing at the door, a frown perched on his face as he studies me.

“Do I have something on my face?” I ask.

“No, but you look a little miserable. No offense.”

“I’m not miserable,” I say. “It’s just the stress of work.”

“Okay. I’ll leave you to it then.” Aaron doesn’t look or sound convinced, but he leaves.

I finish going through the rest of the marketing campaign and then go through my notes for an upcoming client call.

The phone in my office rings.

“Mr. Carter, your mother is here,” Clarissa says when I pick up. “Should I buzz her up?”

I check the time on my computer. Mom’s fifteen minutes early, which is no surprise—she’s generally early to everything.

“Yes, please. Let her know she’s welcome to wait in the guest lounge. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes once I finish my client call.”

“Will do.”

Just as we hang up, a new email pops up in my inbox.

Jackson,

Apologies for the late notice, but I’ve had something urgent come up. Could we shift our call to later this afternoon, perhaps around two p.m.?

Regards,

Peter Williams

Managing Director | Williams Industries

I shoot Peter a reply to let him know I’m happy to move our meeting to two p.m., and then I get up from my desk, heading for the door. At least now I won’t have to keep Mom waiting.

When I head to the guest lounge, Mom isn’t there.

I walk up to the receptionist desk, where Clarissa’s located. “Clarissa, do you know where my mom went?”