Chapter Twenty-Four
Ibit backa groan as I stared at the spreadsheet on the computer screen. The numbers were running together, losing their meaning as I blinked at them.
Lifting a hand, I rubbed my forehead tiredly. It was nearly lunchtime and I hadn’t accomplished a damn thing today. I felt like I had been staring at this damn file for hours.
Which I had.
The sound of someone clearing their throat grabbed my attention and I looked up to find Chris standing on the other side of my desk with his arms crossed over his chest.
I straightened and met his gaze. Apparently, he’d been talking to me and I hadn’t heard a single word. “I’m sorry, I was distracted. What do you need?”
He cocked his head and studied me. “I think you need to go home.”
My back went rigid. “What?”
“You look like shit and you’re obviously upset about something. Whatever it is, you need to take the day and get a handle on it.”
I winced at his words because I knew they were true. Though I’d managed to leave Landen’s house this morning with dry eyes, they hadn’t remained that way once I got to work. Since I left a full half hour earlier than I planned, I spent thirty minutes in the women’s restroom trying to stem the flow of my tears. It had been a losing battle.
As a result, my eyes were red and swollen and no amount of make-up would hide it.
“I’m fine.” I hated lying, but I also hated bringing my personal problems to work with me.
“Well, I’m not,” Chris replied. “If it were anyone else, I would expect them to suck it up and do their job, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen you ruffled and I’m concerned. I want you to go home, get some rest, and call Lucy if you need to unload on someone. She’s taking the week off so she’s free if you need her.”
I opened my mouth to argue but snapped it closed when Chris lifted an imperious hand.
“I know you could probably make it through the day, Chelsea, but you don’t have to. We’re not that busy and you need to take care of yourself. Take the afternoon off and come back tomorrow.”
With a sigh, I slumped down in my chair. I wasn’t getting anything done anyway. “Okay,” I agreed softly.
Chris stared at me, his mouth pressed in a thin line before he spoke again. “Whatever it is, it’ll work out.”
I was certain then that he knew what was bothering me. For a wild moment, I nearly asked him why he never mentioned Landen’s ex-wife, but I shoved the urge away. Chris was my boss and the husband of my friend. He wasn’t obligated to tell me any damn thing. It wasn’t his job to interfere in my relationship with Landen and it would be unfair for me to expect that from him.
“Maybe,” I replied as I turned my eyes back to the computer screen and saved the file before I shut it down.
As I gathered my things, I heard Chris walk back toward his office. His steps paused.
“Landen cares very deeply for you.” My head shot up at his words and I found him staring at me, his jaw flexing as though he wanted to keep his mouth shut but was unable to. “He’s never been very good at relationships, and this is the first time I think I’ve ever seen him truly happy.”
Without another word, Chris disappeared into his office, shutting the door quietly behind him. I blinked at the heavy door, unsure what to think.
Chris stayed out of my private life, even when Landen and I started dating. When I brought it up, he only waved me away and told me who I saw outside of office hours was my own business as long as it didn’t interfere with my ability to do my job.
Yet he’d said something. I wondered if Landen had called him before he left for Oregon.
I picked up my things and headed out the door to the elevator. I was grateful it was empty as I rode down to the lobby. Once I was in my car with the engine running and the air conditioner blasting, I picked up my phone and called Lucy.
“Hey, Chelsea,” she chirped, sounding happy and relaxed.
Some of the tightness in my chest eased at the sound of her voice. “Hey,” I replied, my voice catching as I spoke. I knew it sounded rough and a little hoarse.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” she asked.
“Not physically,” I replied. I sighed, the air leaving my lungs in a rush. “Can you meet me at my apartment? I—” My throat convulsed and I swallowed hard. “I need to talk.”
“Are you at home or at work?”
