Boss I Love to Hate: An Office Romance(15)

“Sarah!”

We had fifteen minutes to go before I had to jet out of this house and off to drop them at school first before I went to work. Annie was supposed to take them today but had an errand to run. If Sarah didn’t get down here in the next two minutes, we’d be late. I shook my head. Then, I rushed up the stairs two at a time and knocked on her door. I waited a second and then knocked again.

“Sarah? Warning, I’m coming in.” I waited a little bit before I turned the doorknob and walked right in.

She was on her bed, clutching a pillow to her chest, her face wet with tears. My stomach sank and kept on going. Instantly, I rushed to her side but then stopped, unsure of what was the matter.

Crap. I didn’t do well with crying women, and Sarah was turning into one. Mary was easy. Practically anything I did to cheer her up would work. And it didn’t take much—ice cream, a good joke, candy, toys. But Sarah was more complicated.

“Sarah, what’s wrong?”

She had always been closer to Mason. We had a good relationship, but it was different. Sarah was an introverted kid. Where Mary was outgoing and rambunctious, just like me, Sarah was just like Mason. She internalized a lot.

“What’s wrong? Is it a boy? Do I have to get your dad’s guns out?” I joked, attempting to make her laugh. Though, in all seriousness, if it were a boy, I’d kick his ass. That would be an easy fix.

She continued to cry, and that unease turned to a squeezing in my chest. My go-to tactics that would normally work on Mary would not work on Sarah, but I’d have to at least try.

I approached with caution, treading slowly across her plush pink carpet. The pink was the only remnant leftover from childhood. Now, pictures of actors and bands that I didn’t really recognize were plastered all over her walls.

I sat at the edge of her bed as she cried into her pillow. She’d been crying about the stupidest things lately, but it didn’t break my heart any less. Times like these, I could remember her mother so clearly. She had been kind and beautiful, and Charles had been so in love. Becky had stepped nicely into the motherly role, but I was sure there was nothing like your own mother. Sarah had been old enough to still remember Natalie; she had formed an unbreakable bond with her biological mother. Mary had never met Natalie, but Sarah remembered her mother so vividly at times.

“Sarah …” My fingers touched the ends of her hair. “If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t beat up whoever made you cry.”

Her head popped up, and she swiped at her eyes with her forearm. “When does Uncle Mason get back?” Her voice was so sullen, so broken.

I understood their bond, but it gutted me that she needed him when I was right here. She had ushered Mason out the door when he left to go to his Ohio business trip and given him the longest, lingering hug as though he were leaving for a three-month trip to Africa. I was never jealous when it came to women, but with my nieces, Mason and I were always vying to be the favorite uncle.

“He’ll be back Wednesday, but whatever you have to tell him, you can tell me. I’m your uncle, too.”

Her eyebrows scrunched together. Then, with a slow shake of her head, the tears began to fall, and she dropped her head into her pillow again.

We were gonna be late. There was no doubt about it. But there was no way I’d rush her.

I brushed her hair from her face and bent down to kiss her forehead. Whatever she was crying about, I wanted to fix it, slay every one of her dragons.

“Sarah, please just tell me. You can tell me anything.” I scooted closer. I wrapped my arm around her and brought her into my chest.

I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to handle having kids of my own. My heart broke enough just from my niece’s tears. How would it be if my very own children cried like the world was ending?

“I’m bleeding.” Her voice was so soft that I leaned in, straining to hear her.

“What?” I reeled back and searched her face. Then, my eyes scoured her whole body. “Where?” My voice heightened with concern, and I scooted away to get a wider view of her, my hands following my gaze—first, her arms, then her face, and then her shoulders. “Sarah, where?” I almost ran to the door to get the first aid kit. But I had no idea where she was bleeding.

“No …” Her face turned tomato red. “I got … I got my period.”

I stood there, dumbstruck, mouth agape, and openly stared at her as though she were a wild animal that had grown horns. I blinked—not once, not twice, but three times. Then, I blew out a slow breath. “Okay …”

She dropped her head into her pillow and began to cry again.

It was a wonder how these kids made me feel so clueless sometimes. I could lead conversations in the boardroom. Close out deals as I was eating a bacon cheeseburger. Handle a hostile takeover. But this … this? I had nothing.

I lifted a finger and then slowly backed up toward the door as though I were trying to escape. My smile was strained, and perspiration formed at my brow.

Sarah tilted her head, waiting for some response from me but I had none.

“One second. I’ll be right back.” Then, I shut the door behind me.

Sweat coated the back of my neck. I paced up and down the hall and then decided that I needed Mason’s help after all.

I could call Charles and Becky, but Mason and I had made a pact not to bother them during their honeymoon unless it was an absolute we can’t handle it emergency. This would constitute for a call, but still, I’d try Mason first.