“Yes, she’s your employee. Yes, she’s even your assistant. But she’s temporary. And I can’t believe I have to tell you this because I always thought of you as the cunning one, but do yourself a favor. Check out the HR file. She was most likely hired by a temp agency, which means she’s not our employee to begin with.”

Roman’s head whipped around, meeting Jude in shock.

“You really didn’t think of that, did you?” He laughed. “There’s always a way, Roman, if you want there to be.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want. She has a boyfriend.”

“Then, why is she here with you?” Jude asked.

I looked down at the half-tied bow on my pajama pants, remembering the way I’d kept fighting with it as I spoke with Tyler.

Why was I here? Was it really for work?

Or was it for something more?

Someone more…

Chapter Thirteen

“Good morning, sunshine!” Lailah teased, a bemused smile upon her lips, as she danced around the kitchen at the ungodly hour of five in the morning.

“Why are you so chipper? Aren’t new parents supposed to be tired and grumpy all the time?” I asked, shuffling toward the coffee pot in a daze. It wasn’t that I was unused to getting up at this hour on a routine basis, but it was usually three hours later.

At my regular time.

Eastern time.

Not at five in the morning, Pacific time, after I’d stayed up until midnight listening to my younger brother ramble on about destiny, fate, and love.

And a bunch of other bullshit.

“If you paid attention or actually came to visit every once in a while, you would notice that Jude and I aren’t exactly new parents anymore. Meara is nearly a year old. She eats solid food. She’s walking. We’re solid pros at this gig by now.”

I’d finished pouring a fresh cup of coffee, and I could already feel the stiff black liquid warming up my veins. As a man who pretty much lived on caffeine, I was proud of myself for having heard half of what she’d just said, considering my buzz still required a few more cups until it was safely in place.

“Pros, huh? Well, Mrs. Professional, if you’re so good at this gig, where’s the little one now? She’s usually attached to you, in one way or another.” I gestured to her and the baby she was currently not sporting on her body.

Instead, she wore a frilly apron and held a worn spatula in her left hand. There was a stack of piping hot pancakes next to the stove, and the smell of bacon in the air was making my stomach growl with desire.

“She’s outside,” Lailah answered, pointing to the large deck just beyond the kitchen.