I felt jittery around him. I couldn’t help it. The combination of nerves and guilt made up one hell of a concoction swishing inside me, making me feel tipsy with emotion. I glanced up and found him watching me closely.

“Have you looked at the sketches of the socks?”

“Briefly,” I said. “I’ve been a little more focused on the bigger contracts.” I met his gaze. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Why socks?”

“Well, we all wear them, for one,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging his lips. “Besides that, I wanted to have something that’s mine.”

“Hawthorne Industries isn’t yours?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Something that I started, that I built.”

I felt myself nod in understanding. “What’s RHS Designs?”

“Rowan, Hawthorne, Samson,” he said.

“Oh. Wow. Sam didn’t tell me about that.”

“It’s fairly new. I wanted to rebrand.” He turned around and leaned against the conference table. He was standing right by me. If I moved my hand a little too far to the left, it would touch his. I reckon he knew that, probably did it on purpose and relished the sense of imbalance I felt at his nearness. He inched closer still. I set my pencil down, leaned back in my seat, and crossed my arms. When I looked over to him, my heartbeat doubled when our gazes met, which I hated.

“What’s your deal?”

“What deal?” He crossed his arms, cocked his head, and stared at me.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Sitting so close?”

“I can’t look at you?”

“Not like that.”

“I only know how to look at you one way.”

I swallowed the question, afraid to ask what way he meant even though I already knew. He was making me imagine things that scared me all over again. “I can’t do my job if you keep at it.”

“I’m not doing anything.” His eyes glittered. I could tell he was holding back a smile.

“Rowan, I know you,” I said. “Did you forget? I know you better than most.”

“You know me better than all.”

There went my galloping heart again, running off with ideas. I tried to school my features as best as I could. I should tell him about Miles, but I didn’t know what to say, how to start. “Hey, by the way, we have a son. Sorry it took me almost four years to tell you,” wasn’t nearly good enough.

No. I couldn’t just blurt it out. I’d take this weekend to think and tell him on Monday. I took a deep breath, let it out, and smiled.

“Let’s get back to work.”

He stared at me for a moment longer before giving a nod and launching into an explanation about the socks.

“You don’t even have a cute logo for these?” I asked.

“Not yet.”

“But—” I blinked from him to the sock sketches and back to him. “Who sketched these?”

“Sam.”

I looked at the socks again. They weren’t bad, per se, they just weren’t clean. He’d done them on the computer instead of by hand. Call me a purist, but I wasn’t a fan of computer programs drawing for me. “Really?”

“Can you help me?”

“You hired us, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I don’t want Seth or someone else in your department. I want you.”

The words curled inside me, my body clearly taking that as a double entendre, which it surely wasn’t, but this was Rowan and every single thing that slipped out of those full lips had a purpose. I must have stayed quiet too long, because he bumped his chair to mine.“Tessa,” he whispered.

“No.” I kept my eyes fixed on the sketch in front of me. “We aren’t doing this again, Rowan. We aren’t. We work, we talk about work, and that’s it.”

He shifted and finally took the seat next to mine. “Have you forgiven me? Just answer me that.”

“I’m over it. That’s the only thing you need to know right now.”

Our conversation was cut short by Samson coming back into the conference room. He looked at us. “You guys are still here?”

“Yeah.” I pushed the side button on my phone and looked at the time. I was going to miss dinner. “Shit.” I stood, gathering my things. “I have to go. Are you free tomorrow morning?” I looked at Rowan. He nodded, eyes unwavering on mine. Those eyes always got me, damn it. I left before I could say anything. Samson caught up to me.

“You didn’t tell him.” It wasn’t a question. I pushed the elevator button.

“Not yet. Give me this weekend, Sam. I can’t just spring that on him. I have so much shit resting on my shoulders right now.”

“I’ll give you the weekend,” he said. “I won’t keep it from him any longer than that.”

“You really didn’t know? Every time you looked at Miles, you really didn’t have a clue?” I knew I’d struck a nerve at the way his eyes widened slightly. I stepped into the elevator. “That’s what I thought. You’ve kept it for over three years.”

“I didn’t know.”

“He looks exactly like him,” I said. “Maybe you didn’t want to believe it or see it, but you must have suspected.”

He pursed his lips. “I didn’t know.”

“We’ll go with that, but don’t you dare tell him. I’m not kidding. I have my reasons for not telling him yet.”

“Because you’re holding a grudge.”

“Please, Sam. I’m not a child,” I said, jabbing the button so that the doors wouldn’t close between us. “This is much more than a grudge and you know it.”

I went home. Thankfully, Celia had already taken care of bath time and had Miles in his astronaut pajamas. His dark hair had already been brushed to the side and he had a goofy smile on his face when I walked in.

“Mommy!”

“Hey, baby, I’m so sorry I’m late,” I said, crouching and wrapping my arms around him so I could inhale the scent of his jasmine baby wash. I thought about my meeting with Rowan and the way Sam was insisting I tell him everything. Without so much as a hint of warning, emotion surged inside me, and I started to weep against him. He was my baby, my everything. He’d been with me when I was pregnant and scared and when I didn’t know what the hell I was doing once he was born. I’d woken up every hour, on the hour, to feed him. I was the one who had lain awake with him on my chest when he got his first fever. Sure, I had help from my sister and grandmother, but he was my son. What was I supposed to do when Rowan demanded weekends with him? Just let him go? My sister sighed heavily from the kitchen.

“I’ll be right back.”

I glanced up at her and nodded, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Always, babe.”

Once she walked out, I looked at Miles. “Did you have a good day at daycare today?”

He nodded, smiling. “Made a tree with no leaves for fall.”

“That sounds fun. What else?”

“Drew a rocket.”

“That’s exciting.” I smiled and lifted him higher in my arms. “Was it blue?”

“Blue and white.”

“Ooohh, blue and white. Impressive.”

I carried him to the bathroom and set him down in front of the sink. He went over to the toilet. I smiled as he went about his business, aiming into the toilet as if there were imaginary Cheerios there. That was how I potty trained him—Cheerios in the toilet. He flushed and came over to the sink, stepping onto the little stool. I thought about Samson as I watched Miles wash his hands. He had looked so utterly betrayed he when I admitted that Rowan was Miles’s father. Deep down, I knew he’d always suspected it, but like a true friend, he hadn’t pushed me, and like an awful friend, I hadn’t come clean about it. Looking back, I’d had plenty of opportunities, but Sam had been sick and I’d been busy with work and Miles. It wasn’t as if all of us were sitting around lounging while I was keeping this lie and it wasn’t as if Sam was the only person I’d kept the truth from. The only people who knew were Celia and Grandma Joan. Everyone else was in the dark. It was easier that way.

Miles dried his hands and lifted his arms up for me to carry him again, the way he often did when it was his bedtime and I hadn’t seen him all day. His tiny arms wrapped tightly around my neck as I carried him into his room, only loosening when I settled him into bed.

“Story?” he asked over a yawn. I pushed his hair back.

“Not today, baby. You’re tired. I’m tired. We’ll read two stories tomorrow.”

“Kay,” he whispered, his eyes drifting shut. I kissed both his cheeks and whispered good night.

My sister was walking back in when I stepped into the kitchen area.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her brows pulling in.

The wave of emotion I’d been holding in suddenly came crashing down. I shook my head rapidly, trying to hold in the tears and failing. “I’m not.”

I recounted everything that happened. She hugged me tighter with each word I spoke and held my head against her chest as I cried afterward.

“Just take the weekend to think about it,” she said. “Maybe it’s time.”

“I have to go back to his office tomorrow.”

“So, you go back there, act natural, get through Friday, and start over on Monday. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. Stop worrying.”

I vowed to try.

It was casual Friday and I took full advantage of it, wearing jeans, a nice black-and-white blouse with a pretty ribbon in the neck, and black converse. I looped my messenger bag over my shoulder. The subway ride was eventful, as most subway rides were if you were actually paying attention, which I was because I’d stuffed my phone in my bag first and I had no interest in rubbing elbows with the person beside me to get it out. Not that I had much room for elbow rubbing to begin with. I was glad when my stop arrived.

I’d spent the entire night tossing and turning and rehearsing how I would tell him we had a son together. Then I spent my morning rehearsing how I would tell Miles about his father. It wasn’t that Miles had never asked, but I’d always left things unanswered. I’d just shifted the conversation to the many wonderful father figures he had—Freddie, Samson, and my dad.

How many times had I dreamed of telling him when Miles was a baby? I’d stopped once Miles started to sleep through the night and no longer felt like I was losing my mind all the time. And yet, there I was, about to be face to face with the guy, and I had absolutely no inclination to tell him. No urge to scream, “We have a son together,” at the top of my lungs. Nothing. Maybe it was because I had so much help and my life had started coming together without a man in my life.

Maybe it was self-preservation.

Regardless, I pulled the door open and went up to the fifth floor. Each step I took was filled with a nervous tension. Even small talk with Sam, who met me in the lobby, didn’t seem to help. He seemed to notice, because as we were nearing Rowan’s office, he stopped walking, put his hand on my shoulder, and made me look at him.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry too and I’m fine. Promise.” I offered him a little smile.

“You wear your emotions on your sleeve.”

“I know.” I also knew Rowan could read me like the back of his hand and would read whatever was showing on my face. I took a breath and tried for serious. “How ’bout now?”

“’Cause I’m up right now,” Sam sang-slash-rapped.

“And you suck right now,” I finished.

We were still laughing when Rowan’s door opened. He stood there, his blue eyes bouncing between us, and shook his head. That was different from how it had been before. He used to look at us with a hint of contempt. I wasn’t sure if everything Sam had been through was the cause of this newfound good mood when it came to our friendship or maybe he’d found enough happiness in his personal life—with Camryn—to care.

I looked at Sam again. “Thanks.”

“Always.” He winked before tossing out a, “Let me know if you need anything,” and walking away.

I faced Rowan. I had no choice but to. He held the door open for me, his mouth twitching as I brushed past him. “Converse. There’s the girl I know.”

“Casual Friday.” I eyed him in his navy suit. “You should try it sometime.”

He smiled that warm smile that made me feel things I shouldn’t. It reminded me of his son, who was in daycare waiting for Celia to pick him up with a snack and a drink in her hands. My mom and grandmother would be here this evening, and that meant a late night for all of us while they drank their wine and adjusted to the time difference. I went over to the table he had set up off to the side, similar to my own office layout. I said as much.

“Is it nice?” he asked. “Your office.”

“Very.”

I glanced outside at the view his office had. It was on a much lower floor than mine, so I couldn’t see much of the city, but it felt cozy. It felt like home. I blinked away from the view before I could delve into that thought. It only felt cozy because it was Brooklyn. I sat in one of the chairs and tapped the armrest.

“Fancy,” I said, wondering how much he’d spent on it. Probably as much as I was paying for Mile’s daycare.

You wanted that, I reminded myself. You wanted to do it on your own. You didn’t want his mother or Camryn meddling or having any part in your son’s life. You made that choice.

“It would probably look better in your office.”

“You’ve never seen it.”

“Not yet, but I know enough about Ryan to know he wouldn’t leave Harold unless he was going to be making bank and working somewhere even fancier,” he said. “Maybe we can meet there next time.”

“Or you can go meet your buddy Ryan.” Whom I still hadn’t even met. I added that part under my breath. Rowan chuckled.

“He’s a strange one.”

“Is he?” I gave him my full attention, figuring he was about to give me the scoop on my new co-worker.

“He has a lot of connections.” He paused. “Let’s just say he doesn’t have to work; he chooses to.”

“Trust fund baby? He seems like he would be.”

“Exactly.” He grinned. I looked away. I didn’t need that grin in my life. The replica I had at home was much sweeter.

I waved my hand over the board. “Show me the magic.”

He seemed to stall for a second too long. I looked over at him and caught him staring. My pulse spiked.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He blinked, clearing his throat.

I forced my eyes back to the board. I seriously needed not to do this. It wasn’t that I hadn’t connected with other people after him. There was Cody, of course, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. There had been French Dude, which was what Celia and I called him. He’d been smart and good-looking and attentive as hell, but I had Miles, and he trumped everyone. French Dude tried to be all cool and nonchalant, but deep down, he was needy. Or maybe he was just needy about sex and cuddling—two things I couldn’t give him as often as all the other single girls in the city of lights could.

The digital board powered up and showed me all sorts of fabric colors. Fiery reds and vibrant blues. Rowan taught me how to scroll and search. I touched an ivory and a blue I kept going back to. He jotted down the numbers and clicked on a different little device to see if they had them in this location.

“How many locations are you up to now?”

“Three, but this is the main one. We still have the one back home, but it’s been turned into a factory. London is still there because of Mom, but we had to let go of a lot of employees and downsized. I’m working on Colombia and Guatemala. I hit a roadblock there.”

“You? I didn’t think you knew what a roadblock was.” My god, he was definitely sitting too close to me. I adjusted my seat, rolled it an inch away.

“It’s boring stuff.” He waved a hand. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it.”

“I do want to hear about it, actually, but I can’t right now.”

“Got somewhere to be?”

I took out my phone and looked at the screen. No missed calls. No texts. Miles would be out of daycare in a few minutes, though, and I wanted to get home before Mom and Grandma Joan did to make sure everything was picked up so neither one of them bitched about the mess. As if living with a toddler was anything but messy. I pushed the side button and looked up at him.

“My mom and Joan are coming in today,” I said. “I need to pick up the apartment before they get there and start judging.”

“I’m sure they’ll forgive you.”

I cracked my neck as he stood and pulled out three massive leather books from a shelf. I’d know those books anywhere. They were filled with fabric swatches, which made my heart pitter-patter a little. At Prim, I’d been stuck in the design room for over a year, and sadly, Yamina was the one who was sorting through the fabric for all of the designs. The magnitude of these projects finally hit me as Rowan set those massive books down in front of me. These were my projects. Mine to oversee and take responsibility for.

“You look like you’re about to cry.” His voice sounded funny. I looked up and found him watching me with an unreadable expression on his face. “Is it me?”

“No. Sorry.” I blinked rapidly. “It’s the fabric.”

“Oh.”

All his disappointment was wrapped up in that one little word. The one he said all clipped and final when he didn’t get the answer he was expecting.

“You can take them home,” he said, clearing his throat.

“The books?”

“Yeah.” He came around and sat beside me again. He looked so weird with that beard. It wasn’t as if it was a super big lumberjack beard, but still. A beard was a beard and seeing one on Rowan was . . . weird. And hot . . . “Take all of them if you want. It’s Friday. I’m the only one who gets the urge to look through these on the weekend anyway.”

Hm. “I bet your wife loves that.”

I cringed inwardly. I hadn’t exactly meant to say that aloud or for the statement to come out so snappy. It made it sound like I potentially cared about that whole thing when, in reality, I didn’t. But if I was even going to consider telling Rowan about Miles, I needed to know I’d be doing the right thing and that Camryn wouldn’t be an issue.

“I’m getting a divorce.” The words tumbled out of his mouth. My eyes snapped to his before dropping to his left hand, which was ring-less. “And I’m in the process of buying the company from my grandparents.”

“Oh. Good. That’s . . . great news. I know how much you wanted this.” I gave him a polite smile.

A few years ago, I would have killed to hear those words. Right then? I didn’t care about him or his company or his wife or his lack of a wedding ring. The only thing I cared about was Miles and how this would affect him if—huge if—I let Rowan into his life.

“Anyway,” I said, needing to say something because he was giving me the look he gave when he couldn’t believe my reaction to something. “I wouldn’t be able to carry all of these.”

“I can help.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m calling it a day anyway.”

“No, I’ll just take—”

“Just let me help. Are you going back to the office or home?”

“Home.”

“Where’s home?”

“Not far from here.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You live in Brooklyn? When did that happen?”

“When I moved back.” I still hadn’t given him specifics about that and I couldn’t imagine why he kept fishing.

“In that case, I’ll definitely help you.”

I eyed the books. The darn things probably weighed more than Miles. My little man was scrawny and always shimmying here and there so it was impossible for him to put weight on. He was a big boy and wanted to do big boy things. I smiled.

“I’d kill to know what put that smile on your face,” Rowan said, his voice low.

“Just business.” I made sure to keep my voice businesslike.

Maybe I was warning myself because with the way my heart doubled in speed, I was obviously the one who needed the reminder. A month ago, I would have sworn on a stack of bibles that I was over him but having him in front of me and feeling like this had me second-guessing that.

“Thank you.” I tried to grab one of the books, but he didn’t let me, insisting he carry all three.

I didn’t argue.

We only had three blocks to walk, which was a bit disconcerting, but he didn’t comment. In fact, we walked mostly in silence. When we stopped to wait for the walk light to blink, he nodded in the direction of the street we were on.

“My place is right up there.”

“Oh.” I followed his gaze, heart thumping. He literally lived one block away from me. The light turned and we made our way across the street. Every step I took felt like the decision was being made for me. I should tell him about Miles. He didn’t deserve that gift, but my little boy did, and despite any thought and grudge I may hold against Rowan, I knew he was a good man. A loving man. I blinked rapidly.

“This is me,” I said, coming to a stop in front of my building.

“You’re joking.”

“Not joking.” I let out a nervous laugh, holding my arms out to take the books.

“You aren’t inviting me up?” He seemed surprised by this.

“Definitely not.”

“I suppose your boyfriend wouldn’t approve.” I was about to ask him what boyfriend he was talking about, but he shifted, placing the books carefully into my arms. I grunted a little. He had carried them so effortlessly that I had almost expected them not to be as heavy as I thought they were. “I wouldn’t approve either.”

“Why? You’re just helping me carry some books.”

“Only a fool with think that.”

“Hold the door.” My brother’s voice snapped my attention behind Rowan. Freddie looked from me to Rowan and then back to me with that unreadable expression of his.

“Ro,” he said.

“Long time no see.” Rowan smiled as he gave my brother one of those pat, sideways hugs. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

Freddie slapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “How’s New York treating you?

“Fine, though I gotta say that not having the water right behind me every day is killing me.”

“I bet. I’m surprised you can survive without it.”

“It’s all I’ve been doing these past years.” Rowan dragged his gaze back to me. “Merely surviving.”

I rolled my eyes and handed the books over to Freddie. “Carry these for me, please. I have to head up.” I smiled sweetly and blew him a kiss before turning to Rowan. “See you . . . I guess I’ll have to get the books back to you Monday, so I’ll have Sam pick them up.”

“I can pick them up.”

“Sure.” I turned and opened the door. “Have a good weekend.”

I walked to the elevator and looked outside to where my brother and Rowan were still talking. I was so grateful to be out of Rowan’s presence. I was sure they’d talk about working out, Hawthorne Industries, or The Company, which Freddie refused to talk about to Celia and I, but I would bet money he’d talk about it with Rowan. I had my key in my hand, ready to unlock my door, when Celia opened it. I paused.

“Where’s Miles?”

“Napping.”

“Oh.” I frowned, dropping my messenger bag by the door and then kicking my heels off. “Where were you going?”

“Nowhere. I heard the elevator ding and knew it was you.” She went around to the kitchen and got a glass of water. “Want coffee?”

“No.” I took a seat on the stool. “I’ll take a bottle of water.”

“Freddie called saying he was on his way too. I ordered Chinese.”

“That sounds so good right now.” My stomach growled as she handed me the water. “He’s downstairs.”

“Why didn’t he come up with you?”

I opened the water bottle and started chugging it. When I put it down, she was still watching me curiously. “He’s talking to Rowan.”

“What?” Her eyes widened. “What’s he doing here?”

“We had a meeting today and he offered to let me borrow some fabric books. He carried them over for me.”

“He isn’t coming up, is he?”

“No.” I heaved a tired sigh. “It’s bad enough that I can’t think straight when he’s around, there is no way I’m inviting that man into my home.”

When I finished, her mouth was hanging open. The list of things that made my sister lose her words had just expanded to include my admitting I wasn’t quite immune to my ex-boyfriend and father of my baby coming back into my life. She blinked and then looked in the direction of Miles’s bedroom.

“What does this mean for him?”

“Nothing,” I said. She raised her eyebrows and I added, “Nothing yet.”

“Is he still with the bitch?”

“He mentioned a divorce, but that means she’s still in the picture in some capacity.”

“Well, Sam is going to tell him if you don’t,” Celia offered.

“I know,” I said. “I just . . . I’m scared. I’m scared about having Camryn or Mildred around him when I’m not present.”

My heart hurt just thinking about it. What if Camryn gave him Benadryl to make him shut up and go to sleep? A cold shudder ran through me.

“No. I can’t just tell him. I need to be sure of so many things before that is even a possibility,” I said, and Celia nodded sadly, reaching over and placing her warm hand on mine.

“I get it,” she whispered. “I really do, but he deserves to know his son, and Miles deserves to know his father.”

The ache in my chest worsened. I knew she was right, but I wasn’t ready yet. Not yet.