“Perfect.” Having a co-conspirator should feel good—a sign that I’m not fucking up everything with this plan. But ultimately, Harlow is on Keeley’s side. I can’t lose sight of that.

So…I’m alone. What else is new? And why does that suddenly bother me?

CHAPTER SEVEN

Keeley is still asleep when I leave for the office. I know it would piss her off, but I sneak into the spare room. I have to make sure she’s all right, don’t I?

She takes my breath away. Lying on her back with her arm cocked up and knuckles brushing her smooth, pale cheek, she looks angelic. She also appears as if she’s sleeping naked. I want to peek under the blankets to be sure, but I can’t risk waking her up and inciting her wrath. I’m smart enough to pick my battles. Still, I don’t see any sleeves or spaghetti straps. If she’s in the buff, maybe that’s a silent sex invite.

Or not, dumb ass.

When my phone starts buzzing in my pocket, I slip out so I don’t wake Keeley. All through my workout, I speak to a client in Vienna. After a quick shower at the hotel’s fitness facility, I head to the office. There, the pace doesn’t change all day. It’s one phone call after another from clients buying or selling amazing properties on Maui. They have multiple demands. This sort of thing has beaten me down over the last few days. But right now I’m energized. I’m making it happen. Tonight, I’ll go home to Keeley. She’ll fix me food. Hopefully, we’ll talk, preferably in more than monosyllables. Then…who knows?

I smile.

As afternoon slips toward quitting time, Britta drops a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I lost my temper.”

It’s unlike her, so I know Keeley’s ideas about healing the rift between me and my brother upset Britta on some level, probably the one where she’d be forced to see Griff—and maybe share their son—if we mend fences. “Don’t apologize. You have a right to your thoughts and feelings.”

“And she has a right to hers.” Britta looks down, peeling a bit of old turquoise polish from her thumbnail. “I think I was a bit jealous, too. If Griff meets Keeley, even to negotiate peace, I’m sure he’ll be attracted to her.”

Britta sees that, too. Nice validation of my plan…not so nice reality for my assistant’s feelings. She knows precisely what kind of woman attracts Griff since she’s paid attention to the wide swath of females my bonehead brother has “dated” since their split. That tears her up, probably more than usual because she couldn’t really date in the same way. She gave birth to a much bigger responsibility that doesn’t allow for random sating of her sex drive. I’m glad for her that she has a seemingly steady someone now, even if it still seems weird to see her with someone else.

“Hey, why don’t you take off early? Go spend more time with your little man. Jamie would like that.”

“I can’t. He had a field trip today. They won’t be back at daycare until five.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Jamie? Every day but—”

“Griff.”

Britta falls dead silent. She presses her lips together. A furrow takes up residence between her brows.

She’s not the same woman she used to be. Before everything went to hell, Griff and I decided that Britta would become my assistant so the two of them didn’t keep mixing business with pleasure. He hired an empty nester looking for something to occupy her time since the last of her kids had gone to college. Sheila still works for him, I hear. But three years ago, Britta always wore bright colors and a smile every day, along with heels and short skirts and a cocky attitude.

Today, she’s got on a navy pencil skirt that almost covers her knees, a plain white starched blouse, and a beige cardigan that does nothing to liven her up. She’s scraped her blond hair into a tight bun. If she wore makeup this morning, it’s gone now. Britta dresses like a librarian. She acts like an old maid. She looks as if she has the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“No,” she answers hesitantly. “I don’t miss him.”

She sounds as if she’s trying to convince herself.

“Be honest.”

We haven’t talked about this in well over two years. At first, when the anger was still fresh for us both, we ranted and railed and trashed her apartment together. We grieved. We grew close. I wonder why I’ve never wanted to have sex with her. Under her current frump garb, she really is gorgeous. I guess in my head she always belonged to Griff.

In so many ways, she still does.

Britta swallows and won’t quite meet my gaze. “I tell myself I shouldn’t. He obviously hasn’t looked back.”

“But you do?” My heart softens. It’s been doing that a lot lately.

I’m not a fan.

She sighs in defeat. “Sometimes. More than I want to.”

“Me, too,” I tell her. After all, I don’t want her to feel alone.

Besides, Griff is a ghost in the room all too often. I kept meaning to move my offices elsewhere after he left. I just…didn’t. Never enough time, never high on my priority list. I never got around to it.

“But it’s over and it doesn’t matter anymore.” She forces a chipper expression. “Tell me, what’s the deal with you and Keeley? I thought she’d be temporary.”

I frown. “Why would you think that?”

“Not that many people meet the love of their life in a bar, Maxon. And I admit, that tight animal-print dress just said ‘bimbo’ to me…which I realize is judging a book by its cover and that’s unfair. She’s nice?”

I nod. “And interesting. Smart. She makes me laugh. She even makes me think.”

“You, think? That’s a feat.” Britta gives me a teasing grin. “Oh, my gosh, you like her.”

“Yeah.” I won’t deny the obvious. But I also can’t tell my assistant more. “We’ll see what happens. Maybe nothing.”

“Or maybe she’s the someone you can finally invest your heart in. That would be great. I’d be really happy for you.” She turns quiet. “You deserve better than Tiffanii.”

Can’t argue there. “What about you? You deserve to be happy, too. Are you still seeing Makaio?”