I apologized for the fifth time as I walked Donna and Gregory out to the valet. Natasha was slumped against my shoulder and I was half-carrying her out of the restaurant.

“It’s okay, really. We were young once, too,” said Donna.

Gregory just flashed a tight smile that said Natasha had done significant damage to my reputation with him, and I was going to have to work extra hard to fix it.

Once they were gone, Natasha straightened a little and fixed me with half-lidded eyes. “Well. That was great. Want me to take you to your place or the office?” Her words were slurred and she couldn’t seem to fix her eyes on one spot for more than a few seconds. She was blasted.

It was a disaster. I’d foolishly thought I could keep her under control if I kept her by my side. Clearly, I’d underestimated her ability to disrupt my plans.

I could call someone to pick her up. William would do it, but I couldn’t trust that asshole to keep dumb ideas from his head. He’d never take advantage of her while she was drunk like this, but I wouldn’t put it past him to let her sleep on his couch and then make his move once she sobered up in the morning.

I’d been denying it, even to myself, but I knew this much. I didn’t just want to keep my brother from Natasha. I wanted to keep everyone else from her. She was my problem. I wasn’t going to call anyone from the office to take her home, because even when she was drunk out of her mind, she was the kind of woman men couldn’t help falling in love with. Most men, at least. I only had to think about Valerie to remember exactly why I wasn’t going anywhere near a relationship, let alone love.

I pulled her close to my side, leading her into the car when the valet pulled it up in front of the restaurant. I laid her in the back and set my jacket over her legs so she didn’t end up flashing me through the rear-view, and I climbed in the driver seat. I had to call the office to get her address.

I cringed when I saw where she lived.

She lived in a mold-clad brick building that looked to be in the permanent shadow of the larger buildings around it. I’d have been shocked if an ounce of sunlight made it into her windows at any point in the day. It was a grim reminder of how far I’d come, and as much as Natasha was a thorn in my fucking side, I didn’t like seeing her live here.

By the time I found a spot to park, I had to literally carry her two blocks to make it to the apartment. It was a statement on the type of neighborhood she lived in that nobody batted an eyelash to see me carrying her unconscious form with my jacket draped over her legs. She felt so small and fragile in my arms, and I couldn’t help feeling a stab of longing at how good the contact felt. It had been two years since Valerie, but the pain still hung fresh enough to keep me firmly bound to the promise I made myself after it all ended.

No more relationships. No more commitments. No more trusting anyone I didn’t have to.

I had to dig through Natasha’s purse awkwardly with one hand while I tried to keep my grip on her with a raised knee and my free arm. I eventually found the keys to the front entrance and then found her apartment number that she had foolishly written on her keys in permanent marker. Didn’t she realize some crazy asshole could find her keys and break into her apartment if she dropped these?

Of course, she didn't. If Natasha realized something like that, she wouldn't be the walking disaster-reel that she was.

A woman who couldn’t have been over five foot and definitely wasn’t a day under seventy years old burst out of the door across from Natasha’s before I could go inside.

“Hmph,” she said, jutting out her jaw and sizing me up. “She’s got money to get drunk, but not to pay rent?”

“How much does she owe you?” I asked. Best to cut to the chase with people like this. I knew from experience.

I saw something in the woman’s eyes that told me she smelled money, and she was quickly forming a plan to get as much as she possibly could. “Four months’ rent. That’s, um—” She frowned as she tried to do the mental math.

“Leave a note under her door within ten minutes that has your information. Make sure I can read it. I’ll get you a check by tomorrow to cover what she owes.”

The woman looked like she was about to claim Natasha owed even more money, but I let myself into Natasha’s apartment before she had a chance. I’d be ripped off to some degree without a doubt, but it was harmless. One luxury of having excessive amounts of money is being able to value your time over almost any amount of money. If a few thousand dollars got me out of arguing with that woman for even a few minutes, it was a small price to pay.

It was a one bedroom with a cramped kitchen in the corner, a single window with a beautiful view of the dirty building just outside, and a bathroom that was hardly big enough for the door to swing open. Her bed was a few steps from the door. The place was an absolute mess, and a ridiculously chubby French Bulldog came charging at me as soon as I came inside. From the looks of it, the dog had also taken the liberty of having diarrhea all over. Judging by the smell, it was fresh.

I carefully set Natasha down on the bed, making sure I didn’t step in any shit while I did. I knelt to let the dog sniff my hand. “I’m a good guy, don’t worry. Your mommy might not agree, but it can be our little secret.”

The dog cautiously sniffed my hand. After a few seconds, I passed the rigorous canine approval test and was rewarded with a wet lick to the chin.

“Was this you, or her?” I asked the dog as I surveyed the disgusting poop explosion. “Tell the truth.”

The dog cowered a little, walking to go sit in the corner.

“Thought so,” I said.

I rolled up my sleeves and spent the next half hour cleaning up shit. Thankfully, Natasha had hardwood floors, so it was nothing a little soap, water, and a hell of a lot of toilet paper couldn’t handle. I tried propping her window open when I was done to let the place air out. It was hot outside this time of year, but a little heat would be better than the smell. I wasn’t surprised to find her window was jammed closed.

With all the dog crap out of the way, I could see that her apartment was about as messy as I would’ve expected. She had a pile of laundry that wasn’t folded but seemed to be clean sitting by the front door. I guessed it had probably absorbed the smell from her dog’s accident and could use another wash.

I checked my watch. It was getting late, but I figured I could still hit a few stores before Natasha would wake. I'd grab her some toilet paper to replace the rolls I'd used cleaning up after her jumbo-sized bulldog, tools to fix her window, and I could stop by my place and wash her clothes.

I pulled off Natasha’s shoes and put her blanket over her. I stopped for a few seconds to marvel at how innocent she looked when she was asleep. It was easy to forget this was the same woman who I didn’t doubt had gotten drunk on purpose to teach me some kind of lesson. Leave it to her to use herself like a battering ram to get at me. She wasn’t the subtle type, and I grudgingly had to admit I admired that about her. Maybe it was because her personality was about as far from Valerie’s as you could get. Maybe it was just because she looked kind of adorable when she was trying her hardest to piss me off and only managing to endear herself to me.

I had expected something like this when I invited her to dinner, but I hadn’t expected her to actually prove she was useful during the meeting. Someone was going to get their ass chewed out tomorrow for missing the WeConnect issue, but I was surprised Natasha knew the business world well enough to catch the problem. It could’ve been a fluke, but it was one I wasn’t expecting. Even if we would’ve spotted it in a few weeks when we did the final review of the promotional plan, I was impressed.

I gently rolled her on her side and propped up some of her pillows behind her back and to make sure she wouldn’t roll back over and risk throwing up while sleeping on her back.

“Keep an eye on her, okay?” I said to the dog. “And get out of the damn corner. You’re not in trouble.”

The dog happily got up and trotted over to jump on the bed and curl itself into a ball at Natasha’s legs. He grunted at me.

“What?” I asked.

He grunted even harder, sitting up now and sticking his ridiculous underbite in my face. I took in the size of him and the folds of extra skin. “She spoils you, doesn’t she. What are you expecting, a treat? Maybe that’s why you have poop troubles, big guy. Tell you what, I’ll get you a carrot from the store.” I leaned down and scratched his blubbery face. “You want a carrot?”

He wagged his tail in confusion, but licked at my hands. I gave him a pat on the head. “Make sure she doesn't die. She’s technically my employee and I don’t feel like getting blamed for it. I’ll come after you with my best lawyers if something happens to her.”