Heartbreaker: A Workplace Friends-To-Lovers Romance (Paths To Love Book 3)

by Grahame Claire

  “Said he couldn’t make it.” He was on his own creating whatever lame excuse he had for breaking our mother’s heart. Because that’s exactly what he’d done. Only he wasn’t here to see it. I was.

  “Well”—Mama cleared her throat—“then I guess we should be on our way.”

  I kissed the top of her head. “Is that a new dress?”

  She took a quick peek at the emerald-green fabric that hung from her slender frame and then blushed when she looked up at me. “It is. I ordered it on clearance from Neiman Marcus.”

  There was a time when she wouldn’t have shopped online, never missing an opportunity for a trip to her favorite store. Her illness had taken enough from her, and even if she had to adapt to a new way of doing things, I was pleased to see she had enough energy to do shopping of any kind. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” She fidgeted with the high collar around her neck.

  “Where’s Drew?” Dad wandered into the kitchen, their suitcase in hand.

  “In New York.” I white-knuckled the edge of the counter. How was it Drew was able to get a flight out so quickly and avoid all the fallout his immediate desertion caused?

  “New York?” Dad halted, the suitcase handle slipping from his hands.

  “He said you sent him to oversee things with the sale. I don’t disagree he should be there, though it could’ve waited a few days.” To hell with the company if it meant having another holiday with Mama.

  “Mulaney’s going first thing next week,” he said. It shouldn’t bother me she was so eager to leave and not happy we’d be in New York together. But it did. “The three of you will be fine there once the dust settles, but that boy needs to get his ass back here. It’s Christmas.”

  “Harris.” Mama placed a hand on his arm.

  “This isn’t right. He can’t just go disappearing on his family. Especially not this time of year.” Dad didn’t quite yell, but whatever hold he had on his temper seemed fragile at best.

  “He had his mind made up. We all know how that goes,” I muttered.

  “This is beyond a wild hair, even for him.” He slipped his fingers through Mama’s like he needed her support. For a moment I was derailed as I took the two of them in. That was what I wanted. The kind of everlasting love my parents had.

  Drew could be impulsive, constantly chasing after shiny things. Between Dad, Mulaney, and me, we managed to keep a bridle on him when it came to Carter Energy. He often didn’t take it well when he didn’t get his way.

  “He seemed bound and determined to get a jump on things. I still can’t find why we needed to sell in the first place.” I leveled Dad with a stare he returned.

  “You’ve seen the numbers,” he said, as if that explained how we’d ended up in a place where CE was no more. Even worse, our family business now included another company whose name we’d taken.

  “Yeah, and I can’t find a damn thing to justify why you sold.”

  He snorted. “There’s a billion reasons why.”

  “I haven’t seen one,” I argued.

  “We lost a lot of money in a few months,” he said in defeat.

  I looked back and forth between him and my mother, who wrung her hands. “The hell we did.” Those figures were my life. If one penny had disappeared, I’d know about it.

  “We couldn’t sustain the business. I had to do something. I know you don’t like it, but it’s done.”

  “I don’t like that you decided without consulting anyone,” I corrected. “I’m telling you, there’s no way our deficit was so large we had to sell. No. Way.”

  Dad put an arm around my mother, neither of them saying a word. Yet judging by the dire expressions on both their faces, we had to sell. Or something else was going on. Everybody in my family was acting weird, or maybe I was out of touch, because I’d been distracted for months.

  “I’ll head up on Sunday.” There wasn’t anything but Mama holding me here, and I was determined to see what I missed in the spreadsheets.

  Dad gave a satisfied nod.

  “And Mulaney will be there too,” Mama said.

  “That girl has sacrificed everything for this company,” Dad said. “She stepped right up to the plate again and didn’t even complain.”

  Pride filled me. She’d treated our business as if it were her own family’s, and I guessed when it came down to it, it was. I loved watching her work with my father, how close she was with Mama. Dad was wrong about one thing, though. Mulaney was no girl. She was all woman. One that frustrated the bejesus out of me. Had for years. One I want desperately as mine.

  “You’ll look out for her.” My mother reached for my hand.

  “She’s not happy I’m going.” Gently, I squeezed her fingers. “We should leave before Grandma Carter raises all kinds of hell.”

  Chapter Five

  Mulaney

  I surveyed the condo. My stuff from the office was piled on the living room floor in the spot where the Christmas tree should’ve been. I hadn’t had time to put one up this year. Too late now.

  The fire truck my older brother Mitch had given me when we were kids caught my attention. It had pride of place on the mantel. I took a step toward it, tempted to take it with me. If this New York thing ended up being longer than I anticipated, I’d come get it.

  This wasn’t the time to be getting sentimental, so I swiped the set of keys off the kitchen counter and grabbed my things. Last night Easton had dropped me off, because true to his word, he wouldn’t let me drink and drive. We’d swapped keys, though I had no idea how he’d gotten back to Carter Energy to get my SUV.

  In the parking garage, I loaded my belongings in the back seat of Easton’s black Ford F-350 Super Duty Platinum. The truck was immaculate inside: no scattered papers, dirt on the floor mats, or coffee spilled in the cup holder. Only his ball cap on the dash and a small Yeti cooler packed with Dr Pepper and bottled water on ice. Damn him for being so considerate.

  Gestures like that made it hard for me to reconcile that Easton with the one who’d pulled some inexplicable stunts over the years. We’d lost numerous deals because he hadn’t approved the funding I’d needed quickly enough. While I usually operated on two speeds—bull in a china shop and pissed-off bull in a china shop—I’d never confronted him when things fell through. It felt personal, like he was out to get me in the way it would hurt me most. Yet he never behaved that way to my face. We clashed and sometimes it got ugly, but he never disrespected me . . . except by causing me to lose projects I wanted.

  My pride wouldn’t let me give him the satisfaction of knowing what he’d done bothered me, and just when I began to trust him again or think maybe it hadn’t been intentional, it would happen again. Easton had that way about him. He was a master at keeping me off balance.

  I climbed into the beast and cranked it up. The diesel engine roared to life. “Just to See You Smile” by Tim McGraw filled the cab. A glance at the touchscreen showed me this was a custom playlist. I imagined this being the last song Easton had listened to, but I quickly shoved away any thoughts of him driving this truck. Something about him behind the wheel turned me on, and I had too much to do today for that distraction. As it was, I’d be lucky to make it to Burdett by supper.

  I drove about twenty minutes west on I-10 from downtown Houston, following the GPS directions to a modest neighborhood off Barker-Cypress Road with small brick houses, a few of them decorated for the holidays. The one I pulled up to had an evergreen wreath on the door, Santa’s smiling face in the center. I parked on the street and sat in the truck for a minute, keeping my hands on the wheel and letting my chin drop to my chest. It was seven thirty in the morning on Christmas Eve, and I was somewhere I didn’t want to be.

  Reluctantly, I got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk to the front door, ringing the bell. Guilt swamped me when I heard the patter of little feet running inside. The door was flung open, and innocent blue eyes looked up at me.

  “Miss Jacobs.”

  �
��Hey there, Firecracker,” I said, ruffling the silky locks of the honey-headed little boy beaming at me. “You ready for Santa?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I was proud to see the manners of a five-year-old gentleman in the making.

  “Miss Jacobs? What are you doing here?” Holly, my assistant, hurried up behind her son breathlessly, still in her flannel pajamas. “Gabriel, what have I told you about answering the door without me?” she scolded, worry morphing into relief it was only me on the stoop instead of a stranger.

  His expression was contrite. “Not to do it. Sorry, Mama.”

  She brushed the hair out of his face. “We have to be careful, baby. That’s all.” Holly turned her attention to me. “Come on in. It’s freezing out there.”

  The two of them moved out of the doorway to let me inside. “I’m sorry to drop in so early, especially on Christmas Eve.”

  “It’s all right. Want some coffee?” Holly led me to the sofa in the living room. There was a small tree in the corner, with only a few presents under it.

  “No, thanks.” I took a seat. She sat on the opposite end of the couch, Gabriel inserting himself between us. Shit. I can’t do this in front of him.

  “Baby, why don’t you give me and Miss Jacobs a few minutes?” Either Holly had that intuition thing all mothers did, or my body language was more telling than I thought.

  “I want to show her the birdhouse I made,” he protested.

  “And I want to see it.” I smiled, and he raced from the room.

  Her pretty face darkened, as she wrung her hands together in her lap. “What’s going on?”

  For a moment I considered beating around the bush, but that wasn’t my style, and I’d already made her nervous by showing up here unannounced. Holly had been with me for many years. She deserved to hear this in person.

  “A deal was finalized yesterday to sell Carter Energy to Starlight Petroleum Energy.”

  “What? There were rumblings something was happening but not this.” She straightened and twined her fingers together on her lap.

  “The company will be headquartered in New York.”

  The moment what I’d said was understood, she deflated. “CE won’t need me anymore,” she whispered.

  She squared her shoulders, already accepting the bad news with the dignity and courage I’d come to expect from her. Holly was one hell of a woman.

  “Fifty employees from Houston can apply for positions with the understanding it will only be for twelve months.”

  She swallowed hard, and I cursed the entire situation. I needed Holly, but I couldn’t ask her to do what I really wanted. I needed to reassure her I’d do whatever I could to ensure her stability.

  “You’ve been with me a long time. You’re my right-hand, like a vital organ,” I said.

  “Did I go slow enough?” Gabriel bounded back into the room, a bright red birdhouse in his hands.

  “You didn’t make that,” I teased.

  “I did too,” he insisted, holding it out to me.

  I accepted it, handling the birdhouse with the utmost care. “Well, if I had a tree, I’d want this hanging in it. Did you paint it?”

  He nodded vigorously.

  “Gabriel, can you give us another minute?” Holly asked. She posed it as a request, but it wasn’t.

  “I’ll get Miss Jacobs some cookies,” he volunteered. I held out my knuckles for a fist bump, and then he was off again.

  I perched the wooden birdhouse on my lap. “Nothing changes with Gabriel’s schooling.”

  He was enrolled in the best kindergarten Houston had to offer. I’d encouraged Holly earlier in the summer to check it out, see what she thought, and after much protest, she went. I’d made certain, if she wanted Gabriel to attend the school, they had a scholarship for him. I paid for it because he deserved it, but we never spoke of the matter. I didn’t want to advertise it or make her feel less than adequate. I’d considered increasing her salary by the tuition amount, but I knew she’d never accept it. She had her pride, and I didn’t fault her for that.

  Her face was impassive now that the initial shock had worn off. “Miss Jacobs, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve got too much responsibility to handle as it is. You need somebody to help you.”

  “Not somebody. I need you,” I said honestly. “The good thing we’ve got going doesn’t work without you.”

  She tapped her index finger on the sofa cushion, her eyes fixed on the Christmas tree. The wheels in her mind appeared to turn at warp speed, and I struggled to come up with ways to reassure her I’d do whatever it took to ensure she and Gabriel would be okay. Selfishly, I wanted to make sure that meant somehow she stayed my assistant.

  Her finger stilled. Some sort of switch flipped, and her look morphed from defeated to determined. She reached for the company-issued iPad on the coffee table. “Have you made arrangements for somewhere to stay?”

  The screen lit when she tapped it. My mouth opened and closed like a fish who’d been out of water too long. She looked at me expectantly. I tugged on my ponytail.

  "I’m working on that, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got it covered.” At least I hoped I did. “I should know by the end of the day.”

  Holly frowned, like she hated not to be of help. “Is it hard to find a place up there?” she asked quietly.

  “Not sure.” I shuddered. “You know I avoid that city as much as possible.”

  That earned a slight smile as she fiddled with the edge of the tablet. Her green eyes met mine. “Is Gabriel’s scholarship transferrable?” she asked carefully.

  My brow furrowed. “You don’t like his school? I thought you both were pleased with it. But of course, if you’re unhappy, the scholarship stands at any institution you choose.” I didn’t care if the school would refund my money or not. Wherever Holly chose for Gabriel to go to school would be taken care of.

  Silence stretched between us. She clutched the cross necklace I’d never seen her without.

  “What if I came to New York with you?” I stared at her. Was she serious? She was loyal, but this was crazy.

  “I can’t ask that of you. You have a life here. Gabriel’s happy. I won’t uproot you just because it’s what I need.”

  “Then don’t ask,” she said with a stubborn lift of her chin. “I’m telling you we’re coming with you.”

  This was exactly why we made the perfect team. Never mind I was her boss, she stood up to me, didn’t let me steamroll her. But . . . I wouldn’t take advantage and even though I’d love nothing more than for her to join me, I needed to throw logical arguments at her.

  “That’s a big decision to make spur of the moment,” I cautioned. “You have roots here. This is your home—”

  “My home is where Gabriel is.” Her tone was crisp and certain when she spoke. “Besides, neither of us have been outside Houston. He needs to experience new things.” She clutched the cross around her neck. “We both do.”

  “Take the weekend. Talk it over with him. New York is a long way to go for a temporary move, especially with a child. Whatever you decide, I’m going to do my damnedest to make sure you have a job.” I didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me earlier. Even if Carter Energy couldn’t take her as one of the fifty from Houston, I could afford to pay her salary. She could work for me.

  “Exactly how long before we need to be in New York?” she asked, seemingly undeterred no matter what I said.

  “By Monday. I’d like you to come as soon as possible if you decide that’s what you want to do.”

  “It is,” she said firmly. “This will be good for Gabriel. For both of us.”

  Something in her voice gave me pause. Did she want to get out of Houston? It sure as hell sounded that way.

  I studied her for a moment, her green eyes resolute. “Pack what you need,” I finally said. “I’ll have someone do the rest later. We’re going to be running around like chickens with our heads cut off, but together it will be easier.”

  “You seem calme
r than I thought about having to move. You hate New York.”

  “I don’t hate it. I just, well, there really isn’t any other option,” I finished, Gabriel arriving right on time with a sugar cookie in the shape of a tree, frosted with green icing. “Thanks, Firecracker.” I took a big bite out of the cookie, and the sugar dissolved on my tongue. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

  “What’s going on, Miss Jacobs?” he asked, his expression weighted with burdens no five-year-old should have to shoulder. But he was the man of the house.

  Holly touched the tip of his nose. “We’ll talk about it later,” she answered, much to my relief.

  I finished my cookie and stood. “I gotta hit the road. Think about it and let me know Sunday. And try to enjoy your Christmas.”

  Holly got to her feet, and Gabriel grabbed my hand. “You just got here. You don’t have to go, do you?”

  “I’ve got a long drive ahead of me, and my grandmama will cook my goose if I’m not home for supper.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “You have a goose?”

  “It’s an expression. Miss Jacobs doesn’t have a goose,” Holly explained as we walked to the door. Gabriel opened it for me, and I marveled at the incredible job she had done raising him on her own. The boy had better manners than I did. Of course, a wild hog did at times.

  I paused in the doorway, and Gabriel threw his arms around me. “Merry Christmas, Miss Jacobs.”

  “Merry Christmas, Firecracker.” When he let go, I hugged Holly, catching both of us off guard. I’d never done anything like that before.

  “See you Sunday,” she said.

  “Think about it.” As much as I needed her, this was a burden I didn’t want to put on either of them. Gabriel was a tough little dude, but a move like this was huge. I didn’t want to take him away from his friends and everything that was familiar.