Brenda Harlen - The Daddy Wish

“I imagine you’ll have a lot of those meetings over the next few weeks.”

Nate nodded. “He’s been in charge for a long time— I know it’s not going to be easy for him to let go.”

Their uncle had been talking, mostly in vague terms, about retirement for a couple of years now. Now Nate would be sitting behind the big desk in the CFO’s office by the end of the month. And from behind that desk, he would have a prime view of the CFO’s undeniably sexy executive assistant.

“So why don’t you seem thrilled that your promotion is coming through sooner than you’d anticipated?”

“I’m happy about the promotion,” Nate said. “I just wish it wasn’t happening for the reasons it is.” Although he’d frequently lamented the fact that his uncle kept pushing back his retirement, he never wanted it to be forced upon him.

“Now he can finally take Aunt Ellen on that cruise he’s been promising since their fortieth anniversary.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Almost four years.” Andrew sipped his beer. “But somehow I don’t think you’re thinking about their vacation plans.”

“I was just wondering why Uncle John was so insistent that Allison Caldwell stay on as my executive assistant.”

“Probably because she’s been doing the job for more than six years and knows the ins and outs of the office better than anyone else,” his brother pointed out. “Do you have a problem with Allison?”

“No,” he said quickly.

Maybe too quickly.

His brother’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me you haven’t slept with her.”

“I haven’t slept with her.” Nate thanked the waitress who set his plate in front of him and immediately picked up his burger, grateful for the interruption as much as the food.

“Keep it that way,” Andrew advised when the server was gone. “She’s a valuable employee of the company.”

“I’m aware of the code of conduct in the employee handbook,” Nate reminded his brother. “I helped write it.”

“Along with Sabrina Barton from Human Resources.”

Nate bit into his burger.

“Tell me,” Andrew said, dipping his spoon into his Guinness stew. “Did you sleep with her before or after the handbook went to the printer?”

“It was a brief fling more than three years ago, after she gave notice that she was leaving the company,” he pointed out. “And she threw herself at me .”

“The curse of being a Garrett,” his brother acknowledged sarcastically. “But you could exercise some discretion and not catch every woman who throws herself at you.”

“It’s basic supply and demand—and with the number of single Garrett men rapidly dwindling, the unmarried ones are in greater demand.” And he very much enjoyed being in demand.

Andrew shook his head as he scooped up more stew. Nate focused on his own plate, and conversation shifted to the hockey game playing out on the wide TV screen over the bar.

The waitress had cleared their empty plates and offered refills of their drinks. They both opted for coffee.

Andrew’s cup was halfway to his lips when his cell phone chimed. He read the message on the display, then looked up.

“Problem?” Nate asked.

His brother glanced past him and smiled. “Not at all.”

Over his shoulder, Nate saw that Andrew wasn’t looking at something but some one . Rachel Ellis—now Rachel Garrett—his wife of four months.

She slid onto the bench seat beside her husband and brushed her lips over his. “Hi,” she said, her tone soft and intimate.

“Hi, yourself,” he said. “How was girls’ night?”

“Fabulous.” She snuggled close. “We got our toenails painted, then had dinner at Valentino’s—with triple-chocolate truffle cake for dessert. But there weren’t any good movies playing, so Maura went to your parents’ house for a sleepover.”

Andrew gestured for the waitress to bring the bill.

Nate sighed. “Whatever happened to bros before—” he caught Rachel’s narrowed gaze and chose his words carefully “—sisters-in-law?”

“I’d say sorry, bro, but I’m not,” Andrew told him.

“I know you’re not.”

And Nate was happy for his brother. Before he met Rachel, Andrew had spent a lot of years grieving the loss of his first wife and trying to raise his daughter on his own. With Rachel, Andrew and Maura were a family again.

“Why are you hanging out with your brother tonight instead of seducing a beautiful woman?” Rachel asked him.

“I’ve given up any hope of finding a woman as beautiful as you,” Nate replied smoothly.

“Which is the same thing you’d say if Kenna was here instead of me,” Rachel guessed.

“Because both of my brothers have impeccable taste.”

Andrew signed the credit card receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.

“What happened to the girl you were with at the Christmas party?”

The mischievous glint in his sister-in-law’s eyes made him suspect that she wasn’t just fishing for information but had actually seen something that night. “I wasn’t with anyone.”

“I know you didn’t take a date,” Rachel acknowledged. “But I definitely saw you come out of the cloakroom with someone.”

Nate sipped his coffee and pretended not to know who she was talking about.

Huffing out a breath, she turned to Andrew. “You must have seen her. Pretty blonde in a green dress.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t notice anyone but you.”

“That’s so sappy,” she said, but she was smiling.

“And true,” her husband assured her.

Nate rolled his eyes. “Don’t you guys have an empty house waiting for you?”

“As a matter of fact,” Andrew said.

“He’s changing the subject,” Rachel pointed out. “Because he doesn’t want you to figure out who she was.”

“I didn’t leave with anyone that night,” Nate said. “I had a six a.m. flight the next morning.”

“I didn’t say you left with her,” she said. “Just that you were in the cloakroom with her.”

“Maybe we both went to get our coats at the same time?” he suggested.

Rachel shook her head, unconvinced, but she let her husband nudge her out of the booth. “If your memory clears, you should bring her to dinner Sunday night.”

Nate knew that wasn’t going to happen. Stealing a kiss from a coworker at the company Christmas party was one thing—inviting his executive assistant to his parents’ house to meet the family was something else entirely.

* * *

Friday nights always loomed long and empty ahead of Allison after she gave Dylan a hug and a kiss goodbye and sent him off to his dad’s house for the weekend.

She tried not to resent the fact that Jefferson and his new wife had a three-bedroom raised ranch on a cute little court in Charisma’s Westdale neighborhood. She’d always wanted her son to have a backyard in which he could run and play, and now he did. She just wished it was something she’d been able to give to him every day and not every other weekend when he was with his father.

But she was grateful that they had a nice two-bedroom apartment on the fifth floor of a well-maintained building with a park across the street. The rent wasn’t cheap, but after she paid the bills each month, she was able to put aside a small amount of money into a vacation fund. Last summer, they’d gone to Washington, DC. This year, she intended to take him camping—to give her city boy a taste of the outdoors. She had some concerns as to whether or not he’d be able to survive a whole week without television or video games, but she wanted to try.

However, it was only January now, which meant she didn’t have to determine their summer plans just yet. In the interim, she should cherish this time on her own: forty-eight hours in which to do whatever she wanted. She could lounge around in her pj’s and eat popcorn for dinner while she watched TV if she wanted. She didn’t have to prepare meals for anyone else or pick up dirty socks that missed the hamper in the bathroom or pull up the covers on a bed that had been left unmade.