Something Real (Whiskey Men, #2)(31)

I turn my back to her and look out the window at the distillery. Fuck, I can’t even focus on my job anymore.

“Fine, Lily. You can get back to work.”

She doesn’t move. It’s like I can feel her indecision running through her head. I don’t turn around and look at her. I can’t. If I do, there’s no holding me back. I’m already worried that I’ve pushed her too far.

She sighs behind me. Fuck, I hate this.

She gets as far as the door before I stop her. Without turning to look at her, I say her name. “Lily.”

She stops and she’s soft-spoken. “Yeah, Ford?”

“Don’t even think about quitting. I wasn’t lying to you. I won’t let you leave me… leave here.”

I would think that would make her happy, but it doesn’t. Her voice sounds almost pained in her reply. “Okay, Ford. I understand.”

It’s only when I hear the click of the door shutting behind her that I let out the breath I was holding. How the hell am I going to do this? I was ready to make this more permanent, and she wants to end it. I walk over to my desk and fall into my chair. This may be a setback, but I’m not giving her up without a fight.





Lilian





Ever since I walked out of Ford’s office earlier, I’ve had a pit in my stomach. It’s like even though I knew I was doing the right thing, it doesn’t feel good.

And Ford’s attitude hasn’t helped either.

He hasn’t said anything, but I can see in every look that he’s disappointed in me. I’m at the filing cabinet when he walks back in from lunch—well, what was supposed to be lunch—but he’s dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. His hair is wet, his shirt sticking to him, and I try not to let my gaze travel, but he’s hard to resist. My voice cracks as I ask him, “Did you have a good uh, lunch?”

He grunts in response. “I had to work off some steam at the gym.”

I nod in understanding because I know that feeling. Just looking at him makes me feel like I could run a mile or two. “Did it work?”

His gaze travels down my body and back up again, and I feel it as if it’s his hand on me instead of just his eyes. He frowns at me with a pained expression on his face. “Well, I thought it did, but obviously fuckin’ not. I’m going to take a shower. Hold my calls.”

I nod, and as he is about to walk away, he digs his phone out of the bag he’s carrying. “I’ve had some RSVPs for Ollie’s birthday. Can you work on those for me?”

I grab the phone he’s handing me, making sure not to touch his outstretched hand. He knows what I’m doing—or trying not to do—and gives me a knowing smirk.

I take his phone and sit down at my desk. I take three deep breaths before opening the messaging app. He wasn’t kidding. I keep scrolling, seeing all the new unopened messages. I pull up the invite list on my computer and start making my way through the list. The further I get, the more I’m wanting to toss his phone in the wastebasket in the corner.

Message after message of women RSVPing that their son or daughter will be at the party and they are looking forward to seeing Ford. They are filled with heart emojis, and one even has a blowing kiss emoji.

I try to ignore it and tell myself I have no right to be jealous, but when a new message pops up, I have no choice but to read it. Ford won’t care. Heck, he’d expect me to. He’s given me free rein over his phone plenty of times. The message is from Nancy Tazewell. She’s the mom of Ollie’s best friend. She was also married until earlier this year. I punch my finger onto the message to open it and read.

The party sounds great and Tommy and I will be there. Maybe the four of us can get together the night before. How about a playdate? The boys can play and you and I can catch up over a bottle of wine. Let me know. I’ll make your favorite. ?





And of course there is a winky face emoji glaring at me at the end.

I drop the offending phone and huff. The audacity. I mean really—responding to a six-year-old’s birthday party invite is not the best time to try and get a booty call.

I’m still stewing fifteen minutes later when Isabella walks in. “Hey, Lilian! How’s it going?”

I sigh in frustration. I want to talk to someone, but it can’t be Isabella. She’s a good friend, but she’s also Ford’s sister-in-law. Heck, it’s not a good idea for anyone here at work to know what happened between us. Before I can answer her, she looks at me worriedly. “What’s wrong? Is Lucas working you too hard? I know he’s trying to find a replacement for you-know-who.”

Normally I would laugh. It’s funny that no one mentions Lucas’ ex-assistant's name. Not since the day she was let go after trying to mess with her and Lucas’ marriage.

I shake my head. “No, Lucas is fine. It’s Ford that is driving me crazy. I’m thinking about seeing if I can just move over to work for Lucas and let Ford find himself a new assistant.”

I’m only half joking. I actually thought about it last night. If Ford starts seeing someone, could I still work for him? Maybe I should talk to Ford about working for Lucas instead.

Ford sticks his head out his office door. “I heard that, Lilian, and you can forget that happening. You’re mine.”