together as the force of my hips and hers shake the bed.
I should be able to last longer, but thanks to the way she’s writhing under me, wanting more, wanting it harder, I’m ready to blow. I manage to hang on until her legs clamp around my hips and her walls convulse around me. Her cries mingle with mine, but we stay locked at our mouths and our hips as we ride our crests. Heat blooms between us and I barely notice my pants stuck around my knees or my shirt bunched around my shoulders.
I release the kiss but keep my forehead touching hers.
“I needed that,” she says.
“I’ll always be there for you—especially when it comes to sex.” I gently leave her body and help her stand. “I’ll shut the lights off and come back to bed.”
She ducks into the bathroom and I toss my shirt into the dirty laundry. I remove my phone and kick out of my pants. There’s an email notification from Helena.
I peek at the bathroom. It won’t hurt to check the email. I don’t have to act on it.
I won’t act on it. Natalie needs me tonight. She’ll feel better if she can go to sleep with me not balls deep into my phone.
But I bring it up, just so I know what to expect in the morning. I don’t make it past the first sentence.
This is my notice of resignation.
Chapter 22
Simon
Things had been going so well. I drum my fingers on my knee, waiting for Helena to talk. We have an hour buffer before I start meeting with clients and I want answers.
Why now? Why not after we moved and trained new staff? Why fucking now?
I’m supposed to coach soccer, for God’s sake. Two teams.
Helena looks like shit. Her hair hangs limp on her shoulders and her back is stooped like she’s carrying the weight of the world. I have a fleeting hope that her resignation was an impulsive send and that she had a good night’s think on it and sees that this is the best job ever and wants to stay.
Is it the best job ever? Would I recommend working for me?
That thought stops my drum solo at the same time as she answers. “It’s the hours. I might not always be in the office but I’ve been working seventy to eighty-hour weeks. Even before the beginning of June, it was sixty hours a week.”
My forehead crinkles. “Is it the pay?” I’ll double it. Fuck. I’ll triple it. She’s a good employee, and she’s also helping me save my damn marriage.
“It’s not the pay, it’s my son.”
“You have a kid?” Why wouldn’t she tell me she was a mom? As a boss, I can’t ask. She doesn’t even talk about her husband.
There’s a brief smile as she says, “He’s four.”
“Oh. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You’re a work-driven boss, and my previous boss was less than considerate when I needed to take a sick day and that was after how affronted he acted about maternity leave.”
“Family comes first, Helena. You never had to worry about that.”
Her glacial blue eyes are dubious. “I missed my vacation in June because you had to be around for your wife.” She holds her hand in a no offense pose. “Which is great. But it’s been like that for the last two months. We canceled our family vacation, I missed the Fourth of July, and really, I haven’t been around much since I started working here. My husband’s been great, but I want to quit before my own marriage is wrecked.”
Her eyes go wide and her back hits her chair. I feel better that she can’t believe she said that, but it also makes her statement sincere. She’s afraid of the toll this job is taking on her personal life.
She was supposed to go on vacation? Shit. I vaguely recall her asking for approval. “Helena—”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Gainesworth, but I need to step back and think about what else I can do with my career. We want to have more kids. I want flexible work, and Gainesworth Equity can’t provide that. I can’t dedicate the next six months to a year training an assistant, and then we have another period of growth and I’m back at square one. Not to mention that your personal assistant is done with his degree soon and will be moving on.”
“Charlie’s going to school?” Why is this the first I’ve heard? Are my employees afraid of me?
“He’s finishing his MBA in December.” She