Evelyn smiled seemingly in spite of herself. “But youarethinking about it?”
Nick felt his cheeks flush. “Yeah, I’m thinking about it. But, trust me. There is a lot that needs to happen before I can approach that topic with her. Things aren’t even, like, officiallyofficialyet. So just keep it to yourselves.”
“Well, I certainly hope you don’t suddenly change your mind about all of this once you go back to work,” Evelyn added. “Sammie has been wonderful to you. I hope this whole experience has taught you how much people need people. Experiences like this are why spending your life alone is a terrible idea. And you would be hard pressed to find anyone better to spend your life with than a woman like her.”
Nick cocked his head to the side. “I realize that, Mom. Way more than you could possibly know.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Samantha
“Knock, knock.”
Samantha snapped her head up from the filing cabinet. She was a bit startled, having not expected to see Martin Siegel, Anderson Brick’s Austin district manager in her office that day.
“Hi, Martin,” she said brightly. “How are you?”
He waggled his head slowly, hands deep in the pockets of his tailored designer suit. His tailored, gaudy, overpriced designer suit. “Doing well. What are we up to today, Samantha?”
“I have a weekly appointment,” she answered. “It’s on the branch calendar. Every Thursday at three until December fifteenth.”
“Every Thursday, hm?”
She discreetly pursed her lips, knowing this was Martin’s version of the third degree. “Yes.”
“Seems like a lot of time away from the office,” he mentioned, casually tracing a ridge on the doorframe.
“I have enough personal hours to cover it,” she assured him. “And I’ll be checking in via e-mail on my phone, as well as have my laptop with me. If anyone needs anything, I’ll be more than able to respond.”
“Mm-hm,” he muttered, still tracing the doorframe, stopping only to examine his fingertip and flick away invisible dust. “Seems the role of the HR manager would be more efficiently filled if the HR manager was actuallyinthe office.”
“I agree,” she inserted. “Which is why I’m here from before open ‘til after close everyotherday of the week, and have so many of my personal hours saved up this late in the year.”
“Mm-hm.” Another flick of invisible dust. “Seems you took off quite a bit of time back in August, was it?”
Samantha cleared her throat a bit harsher than necessary. “Well, I was involved in an accident and had to spend a week in the hospital. I used personal hours for that, too.”
“Mm-hm,” he hummed again. “But as I recall the hospital stay was for amale friendof yours, was it not?”
She cleared her throat again as her cheeks grew hot, but managed to contain her instant rage. “Yes. But I was also being treated for severe dehydration, heat exhaustion, and anaphylaxis.” She paused, internally wincing at the little white lie, knowing it hadn’t been actual anaphylaxis—but Martin didn’t need to know that. “Not to mention a bit of mild post-traumatic stress.”
“Mm-hm.”
She folded her arms across her chest.
“So,” he went on. “Is this weekly appointment continued therapy for yourpost-traumatic stress?”
“No,” she stated flatly. “Mymale friendbroke both of his legs in the accident. I’m takinghimto physical therapy.”
“Mm-hm.”
She cocked her head slightly. “Is there a problem with my choice of use for my allotted personal hours,Martin?”
“Ohnoo,”he drawled, chuckling casually. “I just like to have all the information.”
“Well, it’s all documented according to company guidelines within the branch calendar,” she informed him as politely as possible through slightly gritted teeth.
“Mm-hm. And yourfrienddoesn’t have anyone else to drive him? No spouse or girlfriend perhaps?”
