You told me to be ready at 7:30 and you’re already gone???

  Hayley

  SUBJECT: RE: YOU LEFT ME?

  Hayley,

  It’s 7:33. Get a watch that works.

  And yes, I did leave you. Call Greg.

  Corey

  SUBJECT: MY GODDAMN Briefs.

  Hayley,

  I’ve seen you wear three different pairs of my briefs this week (without fucking asking), so I’m going to assume that you took my laundry out of the dryer and have more of them.

  Can you please bring a pair to my bathroom so I can wear them after my shower, please?

  Now.

  Corey

  SUBJECT: RE: MY GODDAMN Briefs.

  Corey,

  I did take your laundry out of the dryer (Since it was sitting there for three days straight) because I needed to wash my own clothes.

  I would love to bring you your ‘goddamn briefs,’ but seeing as though your bathroom is on the other side of the house, that’s a clear violation of rule #2.

  No.

  Hayley

  SUBJECT: MUSIC.

  For those of us who CAN sleep at night, can you keep the music down in the kitchen while you’re baking, please?

  PS—Let me know when the next batch of cinnamon rolls is ready.

  Corey

  SUBJECT: RE: MUSIC

  I’ll keep the music down once you agree to stop leaving me for work every morning.

  PS—They’re ready now.

  SUBJECT: THANK YOU.

  Thank you for sitting with me last night since I couldn’t sleep again. (I should have my new meds soon so it won’t happen as often.)

  Brownie?

  Hayley

  SUBJECT: RE: THANK you.

  This email would be far more believable if you weren’t wearing another set of my briefs and keeping me up with your music in the kitchen again...

  Yes.

  Corey

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: THANK you.

  Or maybe it’d be more believable if you hadn’t LEFT ME here this morning for work again...

  Hayley

  SUBJECT: COMPANY

  Since you CLEARLY weren’t being serious about us “becoming friends again” like you claimed in that text message you supposedly never sent, can I bring a (male) date over tonight, or is having company against your rules?

  Hayley

  SUBJECT: RE: COMPANY

  I fucking dare you...

  Corey

  COREY: TODAY

  (Present Day)

  San Francisco, California

  “ARE YOU OKAY, MR. WALTERS?” My secretary set a new cup of coffee on my desk early one morning.

  “I’m fine, Tillie.” I picked up the cup and drank it in one gulp, letting the liquid scald my throat. “Why are you asking?”

  “Well, for one,” she said, “That’s your fifth cup of coffee this morning.”

  “Okay, and? I drink multiple cups of coffee every day.”

  “We’ve only been here for thirty minutes.” She crossed her arms. “At the rate you’re going, you’ll break your record of fifteen cups from yesterday.”

  “It’s been a hectic week. That’s all.”

  “Has it really?” She raised her eyebrow. “Everything has seemed pretty normal to me.”

  I handed her a file. “Could you make sure the A-team knows about the next meeting at my house? Tell them it’ll be laid back and casual.”

  “This is also the fourth week in a row that you’ve arrived here at eight in the morning,” she said, ignoring my desire to change the subject. “You’ve never arrived here that early or this consistently before, so has something changed recently?”

  “Am I committing a crime by changing my habits?”

  “No, but as your secretary and executive assistant, it’s my job to be concerned.” She tapped her lip. “Should I assume that you’re going to stay until ten o’clock at night again as well?”

  Seeing as though that’s when my new, sexy roommate goes to bed, yes. “Depends on if I get done with the Harding files.”

  “Those have been done for months.”

  “I meant the Carter files.”

  “You signed off on those two weeks ago.”

  “Who works for who here?” I looked at her. “I know what the hell I’m doing.”

  “Okay.” She shrugged and headed toward the door. “Well, just in case you’re interested, you should also know that I’ve taken the liberty of making you a psychiatrist’s appointment for next week.”

  “Why do you think I need a psychiatrist’s appointment, Tillie?”

  “Because for the past few weeks, you’ve excused yourself to your private suite to take random showers after every meeting for no reason at all.” She looked genuinely concerned. “I figured that you’re using that as a coping mechanism for something you’re dealing with outside of the office.”

  If only you knew. “Thank you, Tillie.”

  “You’re welcome, Mr. Walters.” She left my office, and I leaned back in my chair.

  It’d only been a few weeks since Hayley moved in, and I was ready for her to move out. The sexual tension between us increased to dizzying levels with each passing day, and it was so thick and palpable whenever we were in the same room that I was convinced anyone around us could notice. No matter what I did to get her off my mind, images of her face and sounds of her raspy laughter seeped into my morning coffee, my dreams, and every waking thought.

  I’d even texted her friend Kelly myself and asked when the hell she was finally coming to San Francisco. Her response? LOL! Is this Corey? Can you send me a pic so I can get a visual of who she’s been telling me about?

  I had yet to text her back.

  Shaking my head, I opened my laptop and tried to find something that could distract me for a few hours. I opened my inbox and spotted an email from my lead engineer, Andrea.

  SUBJECT: URGENT: PERSONAL Stuff

  Corey,

  Can you come to my office for a few minutes, please?

  Andrea Dawson

  Lead Engineer, Cyber-Security Division

  Statham Industries

  SUBJECT: RE: URGENT: Personal Stuff

  I’m on my way.

  Corey Walters

  Chief of Cybersecurity

  Cyber Security, Data Protection, & Trusts

  I LOCKED MY LAPTOP in a drawer and walked down the hall to her office. To my surprise, she was sitting on the edge of her desk in a bright red dress and matching stiletto heels, smiling at me as if she had big news to share.

  I glanced at her left hand, noticing it was still bare, so I held back on saying congratulations.

  “What’s going on, Andrea?” I asked.

  “A lot!” She slid off her desk and shut the door. “It’s been six, long months.”

  “Was Delaney late on filing our business status with the secretary of state?” I scrambled my mind, trying to figure out what she was talking about. “Or, did Sean forget to submit our patent for the J-system? If not, don’t worry, I submitted that day anyway so we’ll just be billed twice for a double entry.”

  “No.” She shook her head and smiled. “I said this was personal in the email. Think personal.”

  I blinked.

  Before I could tell her to just reveal what the hell she wanted to say, a light knock came to her door.

  “It’s open!” Andrea called.

  Seconds later, the door opened, and from the corner of my eye, I saw the light blue dress that Hayley had worn in my car this morning.

  “Thank you, Miss Smith.” Andrea smiled at her. “These comments are directly from Mr. Statham, correct?”

  “Yes, Miss Dawson.”

  “Corey, have you met Hayley, Mr. Statham’s newest liaison, yet?”

  “No, I haven’t.” I turned around, and the moment her eyes met mine, I instantly regretted looking at her again. She was still stunning as hell. The type of woman who left an imprint so deep on your mind that you simply learned to accept she’d always be a part of you in some way.

  I need to figure out a way to get rid of you...

  “Pleasure to meet you.” I extended my hand to Hayley, and the simple feel of her hand against mine signaled another cold shower. “I’m Corey Walters.”

  “Hayley Smith. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

  “Miss Smith has been causing quite a frenzy at the café during lunch hours.” Andrea smiled. “The baristas down there let her create her own version of their specialty drinks, and I must say, they taste better than the originals. You should definitely get a taste, Corey.”

  “I’ve tasted her before.”

  “What?”

  I cleared my throat. “Nothing. I’ll be sure to stop by at some point this week and try your drinks, Miss Smith.”

  She gave us both a smile and left the room. And just like that, the rest of my day was shot to hell.

  “Is it me or does she resemble Mr. Statham, just a bit?” Andrea asked.

  I didn’t answer that. “What’s the personal thing you wanted to discuss with me?”

  “Us.”

  “Come again?”

  “You said that it would take you six months to get through the first phase of transitioning for Walters, Inc.,” she said. “You also said you wanted someone by your side when you officially launched your company and that the someone would be your ideal girlfriend or life partner.”

  There’s no fucking way I ever said that. “Was I drunk at the time?”

  “You might’ve been slightly intoxicated. But, the next day you weren’t, and I told you that I’ve always admired you and am highly attracted to you. You said you’d need time to think about it and I think six months is enough, right?”

  I drew a blank. I hardly ever spoke to Andrea about anything other than work, and as attractive as she was, I’d never looked at her as anything more than my colleague.

  “I’m not ready for a committed relationship, Andrea,” I said. “I think it’s best if we remain colleagues, and I apologize if I ever led you into believing we’d become more.”

  “Wow,” she said, shaking her head. “What a completely different turnaround from what you were saying before. You said I was sexy.”

  “You are sexy.”

  “You said I was one of the smartest women you’d ever met.”

  “You definitely are.”

  She frowned, letting out a long breath. “You even said I was enchanting.”

  “I’ve never used that word to describe anyone.” I looked at my watch. “I really do apologize if I led you on about the possibility of there ever being an ‘us’ Andrea. There won’t be. Ever.”

  “Fuck your apology, Corey.” She rolled her eyes. “Just be honest with me. We’ve been working side by side for all this time, and whether you remember what you said or not, I do. You all but explicitly said that once we get done with the transition from here to Walters, Inc. that I would be more than your partner. You said I would be your girlfriend.”

  “I said that, or you assumed that?”

  “It was implied.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “So, the least you can do right now is tell me the truth. Is there someone else?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?” She looked like she was about to explode. “YES?”

  “Yes, Andrea.” I stood up, finally admitting the truth to myself, even though I was determined to continue fighting it. “Unfortunately, there’s always been someone else.”

  COREY: TODAY

  (Present Day)

  San Francisco, California

  DRAFTED MESSAGE: Are you purposely trying to tempt me into fucking you, Hayley? Stop staring at me like that when you’re in the kitchen.

  DRAFTED MESSAGE: Rule Number Four: Long sleeves and full-length pants must be worn in the kitchen and living room at all times. (BRAS must be worn as well.)

  DRAFTED MESSAGE: You probably don't remember me saying this, but I like my car rides SILENT. Please refrain from opening your sexy ass lips during our drive to work, because I'm incapable of focusing on the words you say.

  DRAFTED MESSAGE: I hate your brother for putting me through this shit, and I swear if you weren't his little sister, there would be no rules between us.

  DRAFTED MESSAGE: Come to my bedroom...

  SENT MESSAGE: Are tonight's cinnamon rolls ready yet?

  HAYLEY: TODAY

  (Present Day)

  San Francisco, California

  "THIS IS Corey?" Kelly fanned herself with a book as I chatted with her via Video-Chat. "Like, the green-eyed Adonis guy in this picture, is the same Corey from your childhood?"

  "Yeah, that's him."

  "Well, damn." She smiled and tilted her head to the side. "You mean to tell me that you've been living in his house for the past few weeks and you're still a virgin? I would've jumped him the first night I saw him."

  Apparently, I did.

  "The first day he was somewhat bearable," I said. "Now he's an asshole. Did I tell you that as of this weekend, he's giving me the silent treatment? He'll only talk to me if it's via text or email."

  I glanced at the subject of his latest email which was still on my screen.

  SUBJECT: RULES NUMBER 5, 6, & 7 (effective immediately)

  "ANYWAY," I SAID, LOOKING at her face on the screen again. "When are you getting here? I get my new sleep medication this week, and I'm beyond ready to have a real roommate."

  She gave me her "I have bad news look" and a forced smile. "Okay, Hales. Don't hate me but—"

  "But what?"

  "I may not be coming until months from now."

  "What? Why?"

  "Because I went to a Wall Street benefit dinner with my brother yesterday, and you'll never believe who I met!"

  "Someone who is willing to give us another huge loan?"

  "Ha!" She laughed. "Never. It was Arizona Turner! The owner of all those Ari & Carter cafes that are in every beach town! I told her about our wine and coffee bar, and she offered to let me shadow her for a couple of months. So, I'm thinking, you can keep learning real-world organization and day to day business dealing, and I can learn cafe management from one of the best. Then I can come to San Fran, earn money for a year or so, and we can start our cafe dreams all over. What do you say?"

  "Have I ever told you I hate your never-ending optimism?" I wiped a few happy tears away. "This is the best news I've heard this week I'm happy for you."

  "For us, Hales." She touched the screen and pretended to help me wipe my tears. "I think we'll get it right the second time. Are you going to ask your brother to look at our old business plan to see where we went wrong?"

  "If I ever see him for longer than five minutes at a time," I said. I started to tell her that my brother's hectic schedule and his company were wearing me thinner by the day, but my door opened.

  "You need to read these by Friday, Miss Smith." Angela set a stack of files on my desk. "You also need to make sure that you've looked over the tax proposal that the city of Memphis is offering the company for our future Southern operations. Well, after you've read the proposals from Dallas, Ft. Lauderdale, and Little Rock. Oh, and speaking of which..."

  She continued talking a mile a minute—adding task after task, and Kelly shook her head onscreen in sympathy.

  "Did you get all that, Miss Smith?" Angela smiled, setting one last file on my stack.

  "I think so."

  "Great!" She walked to the door. "Don't forget the Cybersecurity Department needs their budget sheet by the end of the day. No exceptions."

  She left the room, and the door opened as soon as she closed it. An intern avoided my gaze as he set a bouquet of beautiful white roses on my desk, but then he pulled a file from under his arm.

  "No." I pointed to the door. "Don't you dare put any more work on my desk."

  "But—"

  "Bring it to me next week. Not now."

  His face paled, and he looked back and forth. Then he dropped it onto my desk anyway and rushed out of the room.

  "Okay, I take back what I said." Kelly smiled. "I think I'll join you at Statham Industries years from now instead of months from now."

  "You better be kidding."

  "I am." She winked. "I'll call you tonight. Don't forget to update your brother about the changes."

  "I won't." I ended the call and stared at the beautiful white flowers in awe.

  Maybe Corey is finally apologizing for being an ass?

  I pulled the tiny red envelope from the stems and opened it, expecting to see an 'I'm sorry,' but it wasn't there. It was a note from the last person I wanted to forgive.

  Hayley,

  I love you, and I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you.

  (Whether you choose to believe it or not)

  Can I talk to you now that you're living in San Fran?

  Even if it's just for five minutes.

  Your mother,

  Denise Statham

  (Or, as you used to address me in your letters, Inmate #W098287)

  I STARED AT THE LAST line of her note in utter disbelief. Out of the one hundred and seventy-six letters I'd mailed her when she was sent away, she'd never written back once. And the few times that my first foster family let me visit her in prison, she acted as if she was more interested in hearing about Jonathan and what he was doing than me.

  I counted the number of blooms in the flower bouquet and found it quite fitting that it was the number of birthdays she'd missed. And perhaps the random red tulip in the middle stood for the time she left me in our filthy trailer home on Christmas Eve with the promise to come back with "Lots of gifts, Hales! So, we can finally have a real Christmas!" Maybe that flower stood for the fact that she didn't come back to the trailer until long after New Year's Day, empty-handed.