Sarah Morgan - Sleepless In Manhattan

Dani had both.

She put the coffee on his desk. The aroma rose, strong and pungent, slicing through the clouds in his brain that reminded him he’d been working until three in the morning.

“She asked you questions?”

“A few thousand. Mostly about your personal life. She wanted to know whether the reason you rarely date the same woman twice is because of your messed-up childhood.”

He peeled the cap off the coffee. “Did you tell her to mind her own business?”

“No. I told her that the reason you don’t date the same woman twice is because at last count there were around seventy thousand single women in Manhattan, and if you start seeing them more than once you’re never going to get through them all.” Her expression cheerful, she handed him a stack of messages. “Your friend Matt called four times. The guy sounded stressed.”

“Matt is never stressed.” Jake took a sip of coffee, savoring the aroma and the much-needed pump of caffeine. “He is Mr. Calm.”

“Well, he sounded like Mr. Stressed a moment ago.” Dani picked up the four empty coffee cups from his desk and stacked them together. “You know, I don’t mind feeding your coffee habit but once in a while you could eat a meal or sleep at night. It’s what normal people do, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t wondering.” What he was wondering was why his friend was calling in the middle of the working day. And why leave four messages with his assistant rather than calling him directly? Picking up his phone he saw six missed calls. Concern tugged at him. “Did Matt say what it was about?”

“No, but he wanted you to call back as soon as possible. That reporter was impressed that you turned down business from Brad Hetherington. Is that true?” She made a grab for a cup that almost toppled off the stack. “He’s one of the richest guys in New York City. I read that piece in Forbes last week.”

“He’s also an egotistical dickhead and I try really hard not to do business with egotistical dickheads. It puts me in a bad mood. Word of advice, Dani—don’t ever be intimidated by money. Follow your gut.”

“So we’re not going to work with him?”

“I’m thinking about it. Thanks for the coffee. You didn’t have to do that.” He’d told her the same thing every day since she’d first started working for his company. She still brought him coffee every day.

“Think of me as the gift that keeps on giving.” He’d given her a chance when others had closed the door in her face. She was never going to forget it. “You worked late last night and started early this morning so I thought you could do with something to wake you up.” The look in her eyes told him she would happily have found other ways to wake him up.

Jake ignored the look.

He happily broke rules made by other people, but never the ones he made himself and right at the top of that list was don’t bring your private life to work.

He’d never do anything that might threaten his business. It was too important to him. And anyway, he might be a genius with computers but he’d be the first to admit that his skills didn’t extend to relationships.

As soon as Dani had left the room, he called Matt. “What’s the emergency? Did you run out of beer?”

“I assume you haven’t seen the business news.”

“I’ve been in meetings since the sun rose. What have I missed? Someone hacked your website and you need an expert?” Suppressing a yawn, he tapped a key on his computer to wake it up, wishing he could do the same thing to himself. “Another corporate takeover?”

“Star Events has laid off half their staff.”

Jake woke instantly. “Paige didn’t get her promotion?”

“I don’t know. She’s not answering her phone.”

“You think she’s lost her job?”

“I think it’s possible.” Matt sounded tense. “Probable. She’s cut herself off, and that’s what she does when she’s in Brave Mode.”

Jake didn’t have to ask what he meant. He’d seen Paige in Brave Mode often enough, and he hated it. He hated thinking of her scared, struggling and hiding it. “Well, hell—”

“She worked so damn hard for that promotion. It’s all she’s talked about all year. She’s going to be devastated.”

“Yeah.” And he would have done anything to stop Paige being hurt. He considered how long it would take him to cross town and beat someone to a pulp. “Eva? Frankie?”

“They’re not answering, either. I’m hoping they’re together. I don’t want her to be on her own, shutting everyone out.”

Neither did he.

Jake stood up and paced to the window, mentally listing the options. “I’ll make some calls. Find out what’s going on.”

“Why isn’t she answering her phone?” It was a growl. “I’m worried about her.”

“You’re always worried about her.”

“She’s my sister—”

“Yeah, and you wrap her in cotton wool. You need to let her live her life. She’s tougher than you think. And she’s strong and healthy.”

But she hadn’t always been that way.

He had a clear recollection of Paige as a teenager, pale and thin in the hospital bed, waiting for major heart surgery. And he remembered his friend, white-faced and more stressed than Jake had ever seen him, hollow eyed after nights without sleep, nights spent sitting by his sister’s bed.

“What are you doing tonight?” Matt asked, sounding tired.

“I have a hot date.” Although whether he could wake up enough to perform he wasn’t sure. His friend wasn’t the only one who was tired. At this rate he might be the first man on earth to have sex while in a coma.

“With Gina?”

“Gina was last month.”

“Do you ever see a woman for more than a month?”

“Not unless I lose track of time.” He moved on. It suited him that way.

“So it’s not true love?” Matt laughed. “Sorry. I forgot you don’t believe in love.”

Love?

Jake stared out of the window at a city washed with sunshine.

“Are you still there?” Matt’s voice cut through the memories.

“Yeah.” His voice was rusty. “Still here.”

“If it’s not true love, cancel and come over. If the three of them have lost their jobs I don’t want to handle it on my own. My sister is hard work when she’s stressed, mostly because she insists on pretending she’s fine. Trying to get her to admit she’s struggling is like drilling through steel. I don’t mind her doing that with mom, but it pisses me off when she does it with me.”

“You’re asking me to turn down a night of sex with a Swedish blonde to help persuade your sister and her friends to be honest about their emotions? Call me boring, but I don’t find that a tempting offer.”

“She’s Swedish? What’s her name? Where does she work?”

“Her first name is Annika. I haven’t asked her second name and I don’t care where she works as long as it’s not for my company.” Jake walked back to his desk and when he sat down the woman on his mind wasn’t Annika. Where was Paige now? He imagined her, pacing the streets somewhere, upset. Alone. Hiding everything she felt. Shit. He picked up a pencil and doodled on a pad on the desk. “I’m no good with tears.”

“Have you ever seen Paige cry?”

Jake’s fingers tightened on the pencil.

Yeah, he’d seen her cry.

He’d been the one to make her cry.

But Matt didn’t know anything about that.

“I’ve seen Eva cry.”

“Eva cries at sad movies and pretty sunsets,” Matt drawled, “but she didn’t miss a single day at work after her grandmother died. She dragged herself out of bed every day, put on her makeup and went to work even though she was devastated. That girl is tough.” There was a pause. “Look, if there is crying, I’ll deal with it.”