up behind me to unlock my door, even when he brushes against me so subtly that I have the urge to lean into him. For a moment, I allow myself to stand still and just breathe. It’s about time I start taking hold of my emotions when I’m around Desmond. But then I pull in his crisp scent, which sends a euphoric buzz straight to my veins, and I’m quickly reminded why controlling my emotions is a futile effort.
He pulls open the car door for me, and I slip into the familiar leather seat. An uneasy feeling settles over me as I recall the last time I sat in this very spot. The memories rush over me. My confessions about my father. Desmond’s confessions about his. The intensity of our goodbye. Yet I’m back here in the last place I ever imagined I would be.
I snap my head toward Desmond. “You’re really going to force me to start work today?”
He sighs and throws me a perturbed glance. “No. I won’t force you.” His words throw me totally off balance, yet again.
“What?”
“I’ll leave it up to you. Just know I wouldn’t be making such a case of this if I didn’t need the help.” He pulls out of the parking spot with his eyes everywhere but on me. “I’ll help you get to Zach’s so you can do what you need to do. I’ll bring you back to the kitchen, and then I’ll let you decide.”
“Why do I feel like this is a trap? Like you’re giving me a choice, but there’s only one right answer.”
He chuckles. “Maybe that’s the case. Or maybe your guilty conscience is doing its job.”
I huff and fold my arms across my chest. “Well, it should be my choice. Just because I’m going to work for you and live in your stupid apartment doesn’t mean you get to run my life.”
“No, Maggie. I don’t get to run your life. The decision is yours. But you should remember, the only reason I agreed for you to live in my stupid apartment was because you needed a job. It just so happens that I really need the help too. Is that not how you understood it?”
My mouth drops while my mind reels because I’m really not sure why I’m being so stubborn about this. Desmond has a point. I guess I just thought there would be some transition time. Everything is happening so fast. “Fine.” I shift in the bucket seat. “Help me get my stuff into the apartment, and then I’ll work until the movers come.”
In my peripheral, I catch his satisfied smirk. “Okay.”
It takes everything in my power not to respond to his smug satisfaction. Instead, I face forward and shut my mouth for the rest of the ten-minute drive to Zach’s condo.
We park in front of a moving truck at the curb of a beautiful three-story building. My sister explained the location this morning when she brought me here. We’re on the south slope of Queen Anne Hill in Seattle. Kerry Park sits across the street and has the most beautiful views of downtown Seattle’s skyline. The Space Needle peeks above the trees, and the hillside seems to stretch for miles. The location is as breathtaking as it probably is expensive.
Zach doesn’t air his wealth. In fact, sometimes I forget that my sister is dating a celebrity. If I didn’t know better, I would think he was just a normal guy with the hots for my sister.
When Desmond and I walk into Zach’s place, Monica is already busy making herself at home while the movers lug boxes and totes in around her. She’s adding personal touches everywhere we look—throw pillows, brightly colored paintings, accent chairs—to the extent that it almost looks like a whole different place.
“Whoa,” Desmond says, his eyes registering the same shock as I’m sure mine do. “It’s starting to actually look like someone lives here. It’s about time Zach gets some life on these walls.”
For once, I agree with Desmond. When I first saw the place this morning, I asked Monica how long Zach had been living here. She shocked the hell out of me when she said it had been his home for a couple of years. The walls were mostly bare, and there were hardly any personal touches. It was like the guy didn’t want to commit to it. I guess now, with Monica in the picture, that’s no longer a problem.
Monica is beaming from ear to ear as she