who’d just started in the agent department when Mr. Jenner got dumped. She made a move.”
It was wrong to gossip about Eric, both as an old friend and a new boss. That noble sentiment didn’t stop Sofia from asking, “And?”
“And not only did he rebuff her advances, she was gone a month later.”
“He fired her?”
“No, actually. That’s the weird thing.” Heather looked just as confused as Sofia felt. “She got ‘a better offer’ from one of his business rivals. The rumor is Mr. Jenner engineered it. I overheard him tell the Nortons that Wyatt got what he deserved out of the deal.”
Wyatt—hadn’t there been a kid named Robert Wyatt back when they were kids? If she was thinking of the same boy, then that was the kid who’d cornered her one time while Eric had been in the bathroom and tried to cop a feel.
Sofia remembered she’d done what her father had taught her and kneed Wyatt hard in the groin. Eric had found his so-called friend rolling on the ground and yelling bloody murder and Sofia had been terrified Wyatt would get her mom fired. But instead, Wyatt never came back over to play and Mrs. Jenner had bought Sofia a doll with a new set of clothes.
Heather was staring intently at her. “Well. That’s...interesting, isn’t it?” Sofia said numbly.
If she’d thought that would be the end of the conversation, she was wrong. “You two used to know each other?” Heather, Sofia realized, was the office gossip. Which meant that she was a good person to have on Sofia’s side. But that didn’t mean she wanted to spread every childhood moment she and Eric had shared around the office. There was a fine line here and Sofia had to figure out how to walk it—quickly.
When she didn’t answer right away, Heather pressed on. “I mean, that’s what it sounded like. I’ve never heard him tell an interviewee—or anyone else, for that matter—that they ‘grew up.’”
“We knew each other when we were little kids. His father gave my father a start in business.” That line had worked well enough for the Nortons, but when Heather didn’t respond immediately, Sofia decided she needed to steer the conversation away from the past. “It’s good to hear that he’s still the same kid he used to be. I was hoping being a billionaire hadn’t changed him.”
Heather exhaled heavily. “I don’t think the money is what’s changed him,” she said quietly. Then she turned a too-bright smile to Sofia. “Okay? Here are the vendors that we use to order coffee...”
Sofia didn’t get the chance to ask what Heather meant by that. And did it matter, really? No. What mattered was that Eric was giving her an incredible opportunity and putting a great deal of faith in her. What mattered was that his staff loved working for him. What mattered more than anything, she decided, was that he didn’t sleep with his receptionist and he nurtured the talents of the people he hired.
She was going to make this work, she decided with renewed resolve.
So she better learn how to order the coffee.
Normally, Eric would’ve been on the water by now. There was only one reason he was still at his desk today. Sofia. Somehow, he couldn’t leave without making sure she’d take the job.
He was supposed to be reading her contract and nondisclosure agreement, but it wasn’t going well. He was also supposed to be looking over the latest plans for the St. Louis trip, but he wasn’t doing that, either.
Instead, he was thinking about Sofia. He couldn’t remember the first time he’d seen her. She’d always been there. There hadn’t been any big formal goodbyes, either. The Cortés family had not come to his farewell party when he’d gone away to school. He hadn’t sought her out after the party. That had been that.
She’d always been a part of his life—until she wasn’t anymore. He wanted to think he’d regretted not getting the closure of a goodbye, but honestly, he wasn’t sure he had.
Now suddenly Sofia was back in his life. A mother with two little babies who depended on her.
She was taking the job, by God. That was final.
A soft knock on his door pulled him out of his messy thoughts. “Yes?”
The door opened and there she was. His breath caught in his throat as she stepped into his office. It didn’t seem possible that she got lovelier every time he saw her.
But there was no denying it—she was simply prettier than she’d been an hour ago. Especially when her eyes lit up as she looked at him, her mouth softening into a kissable smile. “You’re still here,” she said, a touch of wonder in her voice. “I thought you’d be out on the lake by now.”
He grinned. It didn’t mean anything that she remembered how much he needed the water. Everyone else thought it was part of his eccentric charm, but Sofia had always understood that he needed the water like some people needed the air. “I’m still here,” he told her. “Have a seat. I’m just going over your contract.”
He watched her carefully as she crossed the room and sat in front of him. She looked a little bashful, but not like she was on the verge of another anxiety attack. “I don’t suppose you made my salary something reasonable?”
“A hundred and twenty thousand is very reasonable, Sofia.”
She laughed. “What if I’m not worth that much money?”
He was stunned by the words—and by how much she seemed to mean them. Nervously, she glanced up at him. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he said. “Stop acting like you don’t belong here.”
“I don’t,” she said, and he was impressed that she didn’t sound cowed when she said it. “You’re the one trying to make me fit into this world.”
“You’re the one who showed up for a job interview,” he reminded her. At that, she opened her mouth to reply and then closed it with an audible snap. “There. We agree. You want the job and I’m giving it to you.” He shoved the contract across the desk.
She reached for it, and he continued, “It’s the standard contract, details on the benefit plan, bonus schedule and nondisclosure agreement. You’re more than welcome to take it home and look it over. If you decide to accept the job, I’d like you to start next week. But Sofia?” She looked up at him again, the contract in her hand. “You’re going to accept the job.”
He braced for the worst—another panic attack—but it didn’t happen. Instead, her brows furrowed and she twisted her lips. “I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”
“Of course not. I never lose arguments when I happen to be right.”
“What are you going to tell your parents?”
He blinked once, then again. Of all the things she might have said—that wasn’t what he’d expected. “I don’t know that I need to tell them anything.” Except that was a hedge and he knew it.
Because he wanted to know why his mother hadn’t kept him up-to-date on
