It was where I felt most at ease, like a child rather than a walking, talking insurance plan for the future of our family. But just like my short-lived childhood, the beautiful house lay barren, like a ghost town, covered in white sheets and layers of dust.

Much like my memories of the place.

Stepping into the elevator, I pressed the button for the lobby and watched the doors shut. The lights slowly blinked, showing my descent. I rocked back on my heels, willing myself to stay awake for just a bit longer.

The familiar sound of the doors opening slightly startled me but spurred me into action. I now felt the emptiness in my stomach, reminding me it had been far too long since my last meal.

Time for food.

And maybe a hefty dose of vodka to effectively shut off my brain for the night.

Leftovers and drinking alone.

What an amazing life I’d made for myself.

When there had been two of us here to run things, I could fit in my extracurricular activities with ease, stepping out for the evening at a decent hour without a twinge of guilt. Granted, those activities had mostly been limited to the four walls of my bedroom, but it had been a good life.

No strings. No responsibilities after leaving the office.

But now that Jude had started business on the West Coast, basically doubling our workload, I felt like I was paddling up a river, going the wrong way.

With only one oar and maybe a broken arm.

If I told him this though, he’d be here in two seconds, ready to help and lead where I had failed. He’d uproot his family, tearing them away from the life they’d built in Southern California, just to be here for me because I’d asked, even after everything I’d put him through.

He was a better man than me, and because of that, I’d never ask. Otherwise, my father would win. His belief that I’d eventually fail and the entire company would crumble at my feet?

Yeah, I don’t think so.

I was so lost in my thoughts and possibly consumed with ravenous hunger that I nearly missed the leggy blonde sitting on the upholstered bench near the exit. Her familiar Cheshire Cat smile though caught my attention.

“You keep long hours, Mr. Cavenaugh,” she said, lifting one beautiful, long leg over the other.

I watched in fascination, wondering what those legs would look like wrapped around my neck. Remembering her brazen attitude with me earlier, I took a step back.

This was exactly the type of female I liked—strong with a no-bullshit attitude and a body that could keep me entertained all night long.

“Are you keeping tabs on me?” I asked casually.

“Maybe.”