33
RYDER
If I was happy about being back in the office, I might refer to it as a homecoming. The receptionist smiles and waves when she sees me, quickly taking care of her call and darting out from behind the desk to greet me. One of the guys who scouts and deals with most new projects—at least, not the weird ones like Sunflower Hill—comes out of his office to shake my hand and give me way too many updates for the early hour. And Sana, the only person who knew I would be in today, waits patiently in my office, one leg crossed over the other and bouncing lightly. I get the distinct feeling that it’s meant to give off the same vibes as a tapping foot.
“You’re late,” she says, one eyebrow raised as she takes a sip of her coffee. A matching one sits on my desk.
She’s dressed in her usual outfit—a colored pencil skirt with a nondescript white blouse. Her lips are painted a bright red, her black hair pulled into a tight bun.
“I’m sorry,” I say, shedding my jacket and hanging it on the coat rack by the door as I take my seat in front of the wide window that looks out over Manhattan.
It’s all so familiar, yet it feels wrong.
Probably because while my body is here, wearing the same clothes I normally do and sitting in the same seat I have for years, my mind is at home in bed with the sunflower girl I plucked from Sunflower Hill.
It took everything in me to leave my bed this morning. It was the first morning Eve Harper woke up in my apartment, and I had to begrudgingly extract my limbs from hers and put myself in the shower. Kiss her cheek and promise I’d see her later, knowing that I didn’t know enough about what my day—or more accurately, Sana—would throw at me to give her a time when I’d be home.
I had to promise her I’d see herlater, and I hated that she only huffed and turned over, planning to spend another hour or two in bed while I had to get up and go to stupid work.
“Eve, I take it?” Sana asks me.
I narrow my eyes. “Yes.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t bring her here. Set her up in the spare conference room with the toys and coloring books.”
I give Sana a flat look. “Thank you for reminding me I wanted to discuss your job today.”
She sits up straight, swallowing quickly. Sana is quick to rib me, but equally quick to back off when she senses she’s gone too far.
But it seems like our time apart has us both struggling to findnormalagain.
“I just meant, since you asked me to set up those tours for her and get her a car for the day and everything. I didn’t mean to imply?—”
I wave her off, rolling my eyes. “I know, Sana. I’ve tasked you with an impossible workload ranging from assistanttasks to CEO tasks, and you’re probably still recovering from the whiplash.”
She shrugs, seemingly unsure how to answer this.
“I was thinking we should get an executive assistant. Someone who can take on your old duties for both of us.”
She eyes me. “So what am I, then? Fired?”
I snort. “Nah, I’d be stupid. You have too much on me.”
“That is very true, and I urge you toremember that.”
I lean back in my chair. “I was thinking COO?”
She raises her eyebrows. “What? I’m part-time.”
“Since when?”
She shrugs noncommittally, her gaze falling to her bouncing heel. “I guess I haven’t really been part-time for about four years.”
“Yeah. So, does that work for you? I want to spend more time in Sunflower Hill so I need someone I can trust to funnel any big decisions to. Contracts, HR, any new development plans. I mean, I’ll still be heavily involved. I just don’t want to have to physically be here if I don’t want to be.”
She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You know we can sign electronically now. We have lawyers that can tell either one of us whether to sign or not sign a document, and half our meetings are remote anyway unless we’re visiting a site. You don’t have to give away your power for the sake of not being here.”
“And this is why I trust you,” I tell her. “Look, this is what I want to do. Are you in or not?”
