EMILY

An hour after Shane disappeared onto that elevator, shutting me out, I am still at my desk working on one edit after another to the deal memo his father is using for the hedge-fund recruits. Brandon Senior, on the other hand, busies himself rejecting every version I give him, in between hacks and phone calls. And being here is making me crazy, when all I can think about is Shane and the torment I’d seen in his eyes moments before that elevator had shut. Finally though, I think I’ve nailed it and I carry the memo into Mr. Brandon’s office.

“Here you go,” I say, setting it on his desk, noting the white ring around his lips and the ruddy look to his skin.

He glances down at it, scanning for several seconds before looking at me. “Finally, Ms. Stevens.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Brandon.”

His brow arches. “Feisty this morning to submissive this evening. You know, don’t you?”

“Know?” I ask cautiously. “Know what?”

“About my cancer.”

“Yes,” I say. “I know.”

“Who told you?”

“You,” I say, dodging a direct answer. “With the bloody cough.”

“Who told you?” he pressed.

“Does it matter?”

His lips thin. “I suppose it doesn’t. You may go, Ms. Stevens.” I don’t move, unsure I should leave him alone. He might be an asshole, but he’s coughing up blood and he is Shane’s father. He arches a brow at me. “Something you need, Ms. Stevens?”

“I’m not sure I should leave you.”

His eyes glint hard. “If I drop dead, I’m sure you’ll clean up the mess tomorrow. Get the fuck out of here.”

The outburst jolts me and I rush across the room, exiting the workspace, having learned a big lesson. Concern pisses him off. I grab my purse and I don’t bother to say good-bye, nor do I stop walking until I’m at the elevators, punching the button. The car to my left opens and Shane’s mother exits.

“Mrs. Brandon,” I greet, facing her, and she’s still in her same black pantsuit, her hair and makeup still perfect.

“Emily,” she greets me, finding her way to the space directly in front of me. “I was hoping to catch you. We should talk.”

“Talk? About?”

“Are you aware my husband is sick?”

“Yes.”

“Of course, you are. You’re bright.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “It’s cancer and it’s terminal.”

“‘Terminal,’” I repeat. The word rings with a grimness I’d not quite fully digested until this moment. “Is it manageable?”

“He did a clinical trial and has done well, but I understand he’s hiding worsening effects from me now. What do you know about that?”

“I know today was a bad day,” I say, cautiously.

“That’s a carefully weighed answer I can’t afford.” Her hands go to her hips. “Stick it out with him and I’ll pay you a fifty thousand dollar bonus.”

My eyes go wide. “Fifty thousand dollars?” Alarm bells go off in my head. “Why would you pay me that kind of money?”

“I need someone close to him I can trust and who won’t leave.”

“That you can trust?”

“That’s right. You’d simply call me once a day and give me an update on his medical condition and the projects he’s working on.”

“‘The projects he’s working on,’” I repeat. “Why would I do that?”

“I have to tidy things up if he suddenly crashes.”

“No,” I say quickly, not sure whose side she’s on and not sure it matters. I’ll protect Shane directly, not through a third party. “I can’t do that.” I punch the elevator button again. “I won’t.”

“It’s fifty thousand dollars.”

“It’s me becoming a spy in this war going on in this family. Who are you going to pass the information to? Derek or Shane?”

“You know more than I thought.”

“It doesn’t take much to figure out the obvious.”

“This is for me and him.”

And him. That seals the deal, because Brandon Senior sure as hell doesn’t have Shane’s best interest in mind. “No,” I say. “And if this means you’re going to fire me, I’ll live with that.”

She studies me several seconds, her expression unreadable, but there is a tiny quirk to her lips. “To be clear. Your answer is no.”

“No,” I repeat. “So if you’re going to—”

“You’re not fired, Emily. Have a good weekend.” She turns away and walks toward the offices. I watch her until she disappears behind the glass doors, baffled by what just happened. The elevator dings and I give myself a mental shake before hurrying inside the car. Facing forward, the steel doors shut me inside, and I’m still thinking, What just happened? Was that a test to see if I can be bought? Or did she really mean to have me spy for her? I am still clueless when I step out of the car into the lobby.

At the front doors, I exit to a gust of wind laced with a chill us Texans call winter, while Coloradans seem to call it year-round. Vowing to buy a light jacket with my first paycheck, I find my way to Sixteenth Street, where I stop, my gaze finding the towering building that is the Four Seasons. Where Shane is and where I was with him. Where I want to be now, and suddenly, every reason I have for pushing him away feels small compared to the reality cancer delivers. Life can be short, a reality I’ve learned the hard way and I know he’s faced with now himself. I can’t stay away. I start walking and the next thing I know, I’m standing at the entryway of the hotel and Tai is greeting me.