“Never,” she teases. “So I’ll be filling in for Allie today. She called out. Don’t even think about sending me over to The Roasted Bean, though. I’m way too busy for whatever games you’re playing with her.”
“What?” I say a little louder than I should.
“I’m not getting your fancy espresso,” she repeats. “You can drink the regular coffee like the rest of?—”
“No, I mean…she called out? Why?”
“Said she’s feeling under the weather. Her article was submitted on time Wednesday, and it was really good. Everything went off without a hitch with the printer, and this week’sissue is being distributed as we speak.” She slaps down a newspaper on my desk. “Here’s the file copy.”
“That’s great, but?—”
“Ash, Fridays are easy. We have our staff meeting at eleven to review the week and then it’s just research and outlining for next week’s articles, which Allie promised she would do from home. We don’t need her here. Let her have the day.” She eyes me with some reluctance. “You’ve been riding her pretty hard this week. She needs a break.”
My eyes immediately snap to hers, and we both wince at her poor choice of words. “I’ll be in my office if you need me,” she says, slinking out before I can respond.
Like fuck am I letting Allie have the day off. She’s not getting a break. She made her bed and now she gets to lie in it. Or get out of it, depending on how I find her. There’s no way she’s actually sick. She’s faking, and I’m going to relish catching her in one of her little lies. Does that make me immature and spiteful? Absolutely. Do I give a shit? No.
Allie’s carisn’t in the driveway when I pull up to her house. Not a good sign. I’m about to knock on her door anyway when I see Emory walking down her steps toward her mailbox. She looks up when I close my car door and immediately scurries back up her steps.
Also not a good sign.
“I see you, Emory,” I call out.
“Oh, hey, Ash,” she says as she turns back around, nervously rubbing her baby bump. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m guessing by the fact that you ran at the mere sight of me, you know exactly why I’m here.”
Now she’s fidgeting with her engagement ring, twisting it around in circles on her finger.
“Where is she, Em?”
“Where is wh?—”
“I’m not in the mood for games,” I warn. Emory has become one of my best friends in the short time I’ve known her. We met last spring after our not-so-well-meaning parents tried to set us up. She agreed to go on a fake date with me to appease my parents, and the rest is history. We’ve always been honest with each other. It’s what drew me to her. There are usually no games. No bullshit. Except for where Allie is concerned. Emory will protect that girl to the ends of the earth and vice versa. I can’t say I blame her, but it’s pissing me off right now.
Suddenly, her nervous energy morphs into irritation. Her fingers still on her ring and she exhales sharply, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two.” The words come out clipped. “You told me to tell Allie about this job, then you randomly became her boss, and now you’re making her life hell.”
“I’m not making her life hell. She’s my assistant. She’s in her probationary period and hasn’t accrued time off yet. I thought she would like to know that she’s going to be docked for today if she doesn’t show up.”
Emory’s eyes widen, and she places a hand firmly on her hip. “Are you serious?”
“I didn’t make the rule. Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“She didn’t sign on to be an assistant, and you know it, Ash.”
“Where is she?” I repeat a little more firmly this time, ignoring her comment. I love Em to death, but I don’t have time to argue with her about this right now.
“Where’s who?” a deep voice asks behind Emory.
Luke circles her from behind, resting his hands on her bump and placing a light kiss on her cheek.
I say, “Allie,” at the same time Emory says, “No one.”
“Oh, she’s not back from Nate’s yet?” he asks casually.
Emory turns her head, cutting her fiancé with a glare. Meanwhile, my stomach does a nosedive. What the hell is Allie doing at Nate’s? The normal, rational side of my brain tells me to let this go. Head back to work and let her have the day like Skylar said. She really will be docked by HR unless I sign off on her working from home, though. I would have done just that if I had found her curled up on her sofa, sniffling with a cup of tea next to her.
