ever, missed work. She did seem ill, though. The last time he’d seen her, she looked tired and pale. But Jake wasn’t sure if it was physical or emotional.
Being around each other was becoming increasingly difficult, even with the amount of time that had passed since Lena’s party. They did the best they could, but it was awkward, with both of them overcompensating for the heat that still sizzled between them. He wasn’t sure what was worse: being alone at the office with her or having other people around. Either way, he was feeling the pressure, and so was she.
Was it the stress that was making her sick? He wouldn’t be surprised if it was. But at this point he didn’t know what to do about it other than urge her to see a doctor, if she hadn’t done that already.
He was concerned that if it continued for much longer she was going to find herself another job, one that didn’t include an ex-lover as her boss.
Then what would he do? How would he replace her? Carol was an asset to his company...and to him. She understood him. She knew what made him tick. But maybe it would be better if she left, if they didn’t have to see each other every day. No, he thought. He didn’t want to lose her, not like this.
“Hey! Where are you going?”
Jake spun around and saw that he’d just walked right past Garrett in the front lobby bar. Cripes, he didn’t even realize what he was doing.
“Sorry. I just—” Rather than try to explain, Jake finished with, “Need a beer.”
“Me, too.” Garrett motioned to a table that had been reserved for them.
They sat down, and a spunky little blonde came by to take their orders. They both chose bottled Mexican beer. Normally, Jake would have checked out the waitress or at least smiled at her in his usual flirtatious way, but he was too preoccupied with thoughts of Carol to behave like his old self. Garrett seemed the same as usual, except maybe a bit more uptight.
Not that he was a stick in the mud. Garrett Snow was a great guy, just in a strong-willed way. He didn’t take any crap from anyone, and he didn’t party or play the field the way Jake did, either. Garrett had always been a one-woman kind of man. He was also organized and focused. He preferred to do things himself, barely needing a secretary or assistant. Jake couldn’t fathom it. Carol was the most important person in his employ.
The beers arrived and Jake swigged his first. He glanced around, taking in the decor, with its rich, dark woods, painted details and Native American accents. Garrett was a mixed-blood from the Cheyenne Nation, sired by an Anglo father he’d never known.
“You look like you have a lot on your mind,” Garrett said, reaching for his beer.
“Yeah, I do. I don’t know if I’m going to be much good today, finalizing the fund-raiser stuff.”
Garrett sat back in his chair. He was tall and broad, with deep-set eyes, short black hair and hard-edged features. He squinted a lot, just as he was doing now. “We can work on it another day.”
“Really?” Jake was surprised. His foster brother rarely pushed business aside. “You’d be cool with that?”
“I have things on my mind, too.”
Curious, Jake leaned forward. “Like what?”
Garrett didn’t respond. He didn’t alter his posture, either. He remained as he was, seated far back in his chair, his eyes narrowed. He looked like the hero of an old Western B movie, a half-breed cowboy, preparing to fight the bad guys and clean up the town.
Finally he said, “The woman who ripped us off will be coming up for parole this year.”
Ah, so that was it, Jake thought. Garrett had Meagan Quinn on his mind. The seemingly nice girl who’d embezzled money from them. She used to work for the accounting firm that Garrett, Max and Jake used, gaining access to their financial records and dipping her hands into the pie.
Jake was the most forgiving, of course. He knew what it was like to steal. “She’s serving her time. She’s paying her debt to society.”
“Yes, but she still has to pay her debt to us.”
That was true. As a stipulation of her sentence, Meagan had been ordered to pay restitution to her victims. The money she’d taken wasn’t an astronomical amount, at least not by their standards. But it was still a crime. And it had still pissed them off, especially Garrett, maybe even more than it should have.
Jake took another swig of his beer. “Doesn’t she have to get a verified job offer before she can get paroled? Isn’t that one of the terms of her release?”
“Yeah, and my do-gooder mother wants me to offer her a job, here at the resort.”
Holy cow. If Jake hadn’t been so shocked, he might’ve laughed. Regardless, he still cracked a joke. “Doing what? Working the front desk so she can get your guests’ credit card numbers and go on a shopping spree?”
“That isn’t funny.”
“Yes, it is. I mean, seriously, what the hell is your mom thinking?”
“She’s thinking that I’ll be able to give an ex-con a fresh start at a new life. Of course, the parole commission would have to approve her working for me, but since the restitution she owes would be going to our foundation, they’d probably agree to it.”
Jake nodded. An arrangement had already been made with the court for the money to be donated to their charity, instead of being paid to them. Garrett had taken care of that when he’d attended Meagan’s sentencing. Neither Jake nor Max had made an appearance. They’d trusted Garrett to represent them.
“Mom’s got it in her head that I need to do this, as much for the thief as myself.”
“A little forgiveness wouldn’t hurt.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see.” Garrett chugged his drink, then set the bottle down with a thud. After a moment of silence, he asked, “So what’s going on with you?”
Well, shit. Now Jake had to spill his guts, too. Only, he couldn’t admit that he’d slept with Carol. He’d promised to keep their affair on the down-low once they got home, and that included not blabbing to his foster brothers about it.
“I’m just worried about Carol,” he said.
Garrett’s expression softened. “Your assistant? How so?”
“She’s been sick this week.”
A frown appeared on Garrett’s face. “How sick?”
“I don’t know. She just seems run-down, I guess.”
“Then give her some time to recover.”
“Maybe I should stop by her place to check on her.”
“Sure, you could do that. But you should probably call first.”
“Or text,” Jake said, recalling the texts that had led to their first night together. “I just want to know that she’s going to be okay.”
“You’re
