Chapter 39

THIRTY-NINE

Mina

Monday morning hits like a freight train. Between the emotional roller coaster of the weekend, about four pounds of ice cream mixed with a Friends marathon, and crappy, broken sleep, I'm feeling like a character in a post-apocalyptic movie the day after the world ends. Not even a super sweet, super creamy coffee hand-delivered by my too hot to be real assistant gets me moving. If anything, it makes me sicker to my stomach than I already was.

I never did hear from Nathan and I'm trying to be okay with that. We all process things at our own pace. His pace might be a tad slower than I'd like, but that's okay.

To a point , adds the snarky voice eager for a resolution, and I agree. After a while, he becomes the asshole for avoiding the situation.

But we aren't there yet.

"Coffee not doing it for you?" asks Tad from my doorway. The man's a genius when it comes to reading my moods, but I think even a stranger off the street could figure out I'm not doing great. My hair is brushed but not styled. My outfit is a basic black pant paired with a white blouse and flats. And no matter how much attention I paid to my makeup, it couldn't hide the circles under my eyes.

"The fact I'm here at all is a miracle." I slide the coffee out of reach and Tad gives me that sad smile reserved for people who look as bad as they feel.

"How can I be the best help to you today?" he asks. "Do you need to bury yourself in work? Or do you want me to tell everyone who calls that you're in a meeting and buffer you from the world so you can take a catnap in that armchair over there?" Tad jerks his head toward the chair with a look that says he'll hunt down a blanket and pillow if I so much as yawn.

And that right there is why I hired him. As much as I love to joke about it being because he's so pretty, it really comes down to his kindness and his innate ability to read the room, not to mention he's damn good at his job.

I sigh and shake my head. "Any chance you could go back in time a few months and give me some advice?"

"If only I had that power." Tad holds up his hand in a silent hallelujah. "I'd make the world a better place one time jump at a time and wouldn't even charge for the service. The good vibes would be payment enough."

I nod knowingly, imagining the bliss of a world without regret. Why are we all so intent on making things harder than they need to be?

"I wouldn't worry about that article, you know," Tad says from his place in the doorway. "Nathan comes off worse than you do. He paid you to fake a relationship? That's freakin' dodgy, if you ask me, and fits a profile. The rich never miss a chance to take advantage of us little folks."

Dear God. I'm willing to forget all previous unanswered prayers—this time is serious. Send in SEAL Team Six. Best, Mina Blake.

I reach for my coffee and stare balefully at the contents. "The only thing fake was that article. Nathan's a good man and he wasn't taking advantage of me. I wish everyone could know him like I do."

"As long as he didn't pay you to say that too." Tad dips his chin as I fire up my rebuttal. "I'm sure he didn't, but I'd be remiss if I didn't put that out there. You know where to find me," he finishes, then quietly closes the door.

I immediately consider calling Nathan. It's been two days since we spoke. How much space can he possibly need? But one look at my calendar reminds me that life didn't grind to a halt because I had a fight with my boyfriend. I have a meeting with a potential client in an hour, with Benjamin coming in after to hammer out the details on our business venture. I can't control how Nathan handles his shit, but I can control how I handle mine.

Right now, I need to show up for me.

With a deep cleansing breath, I brush my hair back, chug my coffee and ask Tad to help me bury my feelings with work.