Eli

ELI

This is not good. It's so not good that I've been in the office for hours, waiting for the bomb to drop in today's edition of The Baltimore Sun .

I wipe a hand down my face as sunlight filters through the windows at my back—the ones that Paige loves to look out of in the evenings after work. When she finally lets her hair down and unbuttons the personality she only shares with us when we're alone.

I shake myself back to the issue at hand, typing out yet another email about the pending article. A friend of mine from The Sun called me a few hours ago with the scoop they were running on Rockwell International—on me, Jake, Henry…and Paige. An article he should have been able to pull, except for the picture proof included.

It's the Shelby debacle all over again. Only now, I'm a grown man with no excuses other than how deeply in love with Paige I am. Regardless if she's my employee or my best friend's youngest daughter. I can't shut it off.

And I don't want to hide it, but this isn't how I wanted it to come out.

Sucking in a slow breath, I force myself back from yet another derailment. I return to the drafts upon drafts of releases, emails, official comments—anything I can do to prepare for the onslaught about to hit us. We have to brief the investors, the employees…it's time to close ranks and salvage what we can of our reputation.

Too many people rely on us to sign their paychecks and make them money, and I cannot let them down.

When Jake steps into my office, his eyes narrow on me. "You're here early."

And whereas I'd normally make jabs at him for being so prickly in the morning, I don't have the energy. Don't feel lighthearted enough to enjoy the normal banter. "Have you checked your email this morning?"

Jake frowns and pulls out his phone. "No."

"Well, do. It's going to be a long day." I stare at my computer screen without seeing it as Jake opens the email I sent him when I got to the office.

He sits heavily in the chair opposite me. "They have pictures?"

"And quotes."

"From who?"

I narrow my eyes at him this time. "Who do you think?"

His brow lifts. "Your dad?"

And as on cue Henry walking in. Perfect timing. "What did the great Rockwell, Esquire do now?"

Jake lifts his phone to show Henry the article that will be live in a matter of minutes.

"What the fuck is this?" Henry asks, angry indignation taking him over.

"It's an article about us, and we need to play firemen. Now. Start putting out the fires before they cause an inferno. We have investors and a reputation to think about. But more importantly, we have employees to consider. We can't let this do anything to threaten their livelihoods." My little speech is enough for me to dive back into my many drafts. But the moment the hour turns over, and it's eight o'clock, my phone starts ringing.

Jake goes to his office to dive into the finances and Henry starts making calls. I field them the best I can, in survival mode until my assistant knocks on my door. His usually pristine black hair has been disturbed by a hand running through it, so I brace myself.

"Yes, Collin?"

"May I, sir?" He gestures to the door, and I nod for him to close it before he steps in front of my desk and sits. "I am sure that you will address this today to the entire staff, but we've all seen the article already."

The pressure in my chest doubles, and I refuse to let myself sink into despair. We can fix this. We have before. And besides, this time, the girl—Paige—isn't out for my money.

"I do plan to address the staff about this before lunch."

He nods but lingers.

"Something else on your mind?" I prompt. I don't mean to be curt, but I have too many balls in the air.

"Well, you know how assistants like to gossip…"

"Collin, spit it out. I don't have the time today?—"

"It was Sabrina, sir. That's what the rumors are saying. She took the pictures and talked to the journalist. After she was fired, she had drinks with Doreen and…" The look on my face must scare him because he sputters and redirects. "Sorry, sir. The point is, she admitted to it. Even dropping your father's name for a quote. I just thought you should know."

Keeping myself as calm as possible, I nod. "Thank you, Collin. Can you prepare the big conference room for my announcement? I want everyone there at ten, sharp."

Collin stands and half bows with his shoulders. Poor guy is out of sorts too. "Will do, Mr. Rockwell."

I sigh as he opens the door and resumes his position, fielding unwanted phone calls from other reporters and the like.

Falling back into the tornado of communications, I don't look up again until Henry enters my office and takes up residence on my couch. I sent him my statement draft to review, and he looks as pissed off and determined as I feel.

Jake stomps in moments later with his tablet and sighs. "This is an absolute clusterfuck."

Henry stands and converges on us, sitting on the side of my desk with a frown. "We have investors pulling out, but not as many as predicted. I may have a trump card up my sleeve, but before I use it, I need to confess something to the both of you."

And he hesitates. Henry never hesitates with the two of us.

"What? Something that will make this worse or better?"

Henry rubs the back of his neck and looks at the ceiling. "I don't know. I'm still wrapping my head around it. I only learned last night?—"

"For fuck's sake, Henry, just rip the bandage off and say it." Jake looks about ready to throw his tablet across the room.

"Paxton's my son."

That bomb detonates a silence so complete, a faint ringing fills my ears.

Paige's son is Henry's. From the one-night stand they had four years ago. I shake my head, willing the information to find its rightful place in my mind so that I can process it fully.

"Well, fuck." Jake drops into a seat and pinches the bridge of his nose for a prolonged moment.

I zero in on the smaller details of this confession. "You only found out last night?"

Henry nods. "I had my suspicions, but I figured she would have told me. After talking with Patrick, too much of it lined up, and I confronted her about it. Paige admitted it. Paxton is mine."

It makes sense. Paxton looks like Henry, but I brushed that off as a coincidence. Except that Paxton also seemed naturally drawn to him. Again, he has more experience with kids. Another easy way to convince myself otherwise.

"Did she tell you why?" Jake asks, dropping his hand. His blank face didn't bode well for this conversation. He goes blank when he doesn't know how to process. When he overloads.

I'm on the brink of the same break.

"She didn't want to ruin my life apparently."

Jake and I both swear. But it sounds exactly like what Paige would do.

The sinking feeling in my chest returns, furthered by the new knock on my door.

"What is it?" I call, but when I peer past Henry and Jake, it's not Collin I see, it's Vanya. I school my face and tone and ask again, "What can I do for you, Vanya?"

"Hey, um, sorry to bug you guys, but…have any of you seen Paige this morning? No one can seem to get a hold of her."

"She's not here?" The strange bubble I've been in pops. I haven't seen her at all this morning, but I imagined she was in her office, working.

How stupid. If she was here, she would have come stomping in here about the article first thing. But she didn't. So, where is she?