“Thank you for breakfast. Thank you for changing the sheets. And thank you for calling my office.”
“You’re welcome, Jax.”
She found herself singing all morning; it was a good thing no one was around to complain. Jackson and his bedroom lured her like a siren call, but Leah reminded herself he’d handled every other migraine in his life without her help.
She was developing a covetous obsession with all the new parts of him that were slowly being revealed to her. It was as if each detail sat inside his closed fist and he was cautiously peeling back his fingers to show her. Surprisingly, she liked who she saw beneath the hostile, granite-faced exterior he used as a front.
On the kitchen counter, his phone began to ring. The single word—“Dad”—on the screen paused her hand for a second. And then she answered it.
“Hello, Jackson’s phone.”
There was a momentary silence. “Who is this?” The aggressive bite of Alistair Hale was unmistakable.
“It’s Leah Raven. We met at the weekend.”
“Where’s Jackson?”
“He’s recovering from his migraine. He’s asleep right now.”
Another pause, accompanied by a loud exhale. “Why are you answering his phone? He has a PA for that.”
“Not here, he doesn’t. Jackson’s still at Amity Court.” Leah’s voice tightened at Mr. Hale’s complete disregard for his son’s health.
He cursed and muttered something she didn’t catch. “Put him on the phone.”
Leah took a deep breath. “If it’s a personal matter, I can get Jackson to call you back a little later. Otherwise, if it’s work-related, can I ask you to call Oliver or Natalia, please?”
“What?” Mr. Hale’s voice was ominously low.
“Oliver and Natalia are both in the office today—they’ve promised to deal with anything that crops up unless it’s extremely urgent. If they feel it’s something only Jackson can handle, I’m sure one of them will call him later to discuss it. When he’s awake.”
She listened for a reaction but heard only the air he sucked in through his teeth. With a garbled curse and no goodbye, Mr. Hale disconnected the call, leaving Leah with even lower expectations of a Facebook friend request from him any time soon.
Opening Esther’s Instagram account on her laptop, she scrolled past a targeted ad for an iPad Pro, which she coveted but would never be able to afford, and settled down to answer direct messages and schedule posts. She’d achieved precisely eight minutes of work when Sam’s car pulled up on the drive and Leah leaped up to let him in before he could ring the bell.
“Dinner at ours next weekend?” he asked as she opened the door, his head cocked like a spaniel watching its owner pull on outdoor shoes. “Grouchy McMoody can come too, if he’s around.”
Sam’s teasing came too soon after she’d seen Jackson stripped of his outer shell. “Look, he—”
She got no further before Sam held up both hands in defense. “I’m teasing, I’m teasing! You don’t have to go all attack dog on me. I think it’s cute you both have each other’s back.”
Leah flushed. “What d’you mean?”
Sam’s eyes danced. “He pulled Niamh up pretty sharp when she made a comment about them outsourcing your job, that’s all. He said your abilities were irreplaceable—especially your artistic talent. And that’s a direct quote.”
“Seriously?” She couldn’t believe it. “At dinner last weekend?”
“Yup. If it helps, I don’t think she was trying to stir. But it can’t be easy knowing your boyfriend is living with another woman.”
“They’re not dating,” Leah murmured, only half of her mind on Sam’s words. A thrilled bloom of quiet pride painted a rainbow of color over the foyer.
“Well, isn’t that fortunate for you, my little smitten kitten?” Sam wrapped a brotherly arm around her shoulders. “Make me acup of coffee and tell me why I haven’t seen any of your artwork yet. I hate being out of the loop. It makes me sulky.”
He was sensitive enough not to push her further about Jackson, although Leah had no doubt he was just biding his time. She filled him in on the weekend visit from Jackson’s parents and the migraine that had kept him at Amity Court.
“He could do with some distance from his dad. Mixing a rocky personal relationship with business must be tough,” he said. “My parents have always been great, but Kash still struggles with his. It leaves a mark, even when you don’t need their acceptance to live your life.” Sam broke off and grinned. “Fortunately for Kash, he’s lucky enough to work with me.”
Forced to show him her art, Leah let him flick through her recent designs.
