Lizzie Blake's Best Mistake (A Brush with Love, #2)(28)

“Sir?” Rake said, trying to grab his attention before he hung up.

“Hm?”

“I was wondering if…”

“Out with it. I’m running late as it is.”

“I was wondering if the U.S. position was still on the table?” Rake pushed out, feeling almost dizzy with how rapidly his world was changing. Things were happening too fast, and he didn’t like it. He liked order. Structure. Predictability.

He hadn’t always been so buttoned up, so afraid of change. But the past two years had turned him into a man with little motivation to step outside of his routine. A routine that was serving him just fine until he’d met Lizzie.

“I thought you said there was nothing for you in making the transfer,” Robert said slowly, his interest piqued. He had offered Rake a position on a new team designated to integrate the brand into the East Coast of the U.S.

Rake had immediately turned it down, saying he was better suited to business development on long-standing projects than starting from scratch.

“I’ve been thinking on it,” Rake lied, “and I’d like the challenge. I have some ideas from my last trip to the States that I believe could really be an asset to the endeavor.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

Rake paused, his mind going blank in a desperate scramble for any campaign ideas he could come up with. He was so caught off guard, he started spluttering and choking.

“You really sound like shit,” Robert said, then pulled the phone away from his mouth again, “Betty! The tie! Have you seen my tie?”

“Sick as a dog,” Rake confirmed, hoping Robert would take the hint and end this.

“Listen, I think Dominic’s already completed his team, but I’ll talk to him. He’s always had a fondness for you.”

Rake cringed. He didn’t particularly like Dominic. He was an older executive, notorious for his rejection of anything new or experimental in campaigns to reach younger markets, and had an unsavory reputation for his treatment of employees. But what needed to be done needed to be done. Lizzie had dropped a bomb in his lap, but he wasn’t about to throw it back at her to deal with alone.

“I’ve got to run, Rake. Send me a slide deck with some of your ideas, and I’ll see what Dominic thinks.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Robert ended the call, and Rake stood in his small, empty kitchen, slapping his phone against his palm while he stared blankly at the wall.

A baby.

A giant-headed creature that would be in this world in, what, eight and a half months?

He wasn’t sure what he felt. Rake had pushed down his emotions so succinctly over the past few years, it was hard to identify when a more complex one bubbled to the surface. Scared shitless was probably the primary feeling.

He looked around his apartment. He didn’t spend more time in his home than strictly necessary, and it showed.

It was embarrassingly bare, had been since Shannon moved out. White walls. Gray carpet. His lonely bed sat in one corner of the bedroom, tidily made. A small, uncomfortable couch faced an unimpressive TV in the living space with an empty kitchen he never used attached. A bathroom with only the barest of necessities to keep his hollow self looking the part at his corporate job stood opposite.

It had the effect of a poorly done model apartment, unlived in and sterile. There was no denying the emptiness that made it more sad than anything, haunted by ghosts of could-have-beens. Rake had never been a particularly exuberant or expressive person, but there had been a time that he felt happy and content in this space. Had felt safe to show it.

But that type of vulnerable foolishness was far behind him. Or it was supposed to be, at least. He’d acted like quite the fool in Philadelphia.

Being around Lizzie had opened some trapdoor through his walls, pulling him out of the barren landscape he cultivated for himself and into a bright light. He’d reasoned it was something he’d needed to get out of his system, a few days of indulgent fun, and then he’d cram himself back into his cage upon returning home.

That had turned out well.

Because for the past two weeks, the foolish version of himself had taken the reins in his sleep, and the shower, and second-long daydreams all starring Lizzie and her dazzling smile with just a pinch of something that felt like longing.

Which was ridiculous. What, was he pining? Having feelings?

No. He wasn’t.

It had been a lapse in judgment.

A lapse that now meant a child and approximately four million new responsibilities he had to plan for and execute to perfection.

Rake massaged his temples, making neat mental lists of everything he needed to do immediately, over the next week, and over the next few years. He found comfort in the planning, in the preparation for anything life would throw at him.

This would all be okay, he thought, neatly folding his clothes into his suitcase. He’d make sure everything was okay.





Chapter 16




RAKE was exhausted as he swiped into his hotel room. All he wanted to do was fall face-first onto the mattress and sleep for the next three days. Instead, he chugged down a coffee, hopped into a freezing shower to wake up, then sat on the edge of the bed in a towel, staring at his phone.

He needed to get in contact with Lizzie. Rake was only in the U.S. for twenty-four hours, and he needed to use that time efficiently, like he did with all other aspects of his life. He’d spent the excruciatingly long flight working through multiple plans, and he needed to present her with the options. Like a business meeting.