She coughed and shifted in her seat uncomfortably, fidgeting in that way she did when she wanted to avoid talking about something.

“Yeah…by default.”

I feigned puzzlement, shifted gears again. “So you’re upset that I didn’t formally ask you to move in with me?”

She made a face. “No.”

I knew what that meant. Yes.

“Emilia, will you move in with me?”

“I’m already there.”

“No, I mean move your stuff in and stay and live with me.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “That’s kind of a huge step, isn’t it?”

This time it was much harder to fight the smile. She was getting skittish already. “Well, we’re already doing it, by default. We don’t have to call it anything.”

“So we’d be like…roommates?”

I opened my mouth and then closed it, tossed a glance her way. She was grinning like she was enjoying a great joke. “Roommates with benefits,” I corrected.

“Hmm. Does ‘benefits’ translate to ‘morning sex that makes us both late every day’? Because that might get me in trouble with my boss.”

“Not a chance. As long as the morning sex is with me, you won’t get in trouble.”

She elbowed me. “I meant get in trouble with Mac.”

“But I’m Mac’s boss.”

“I’m serious. I mean, maybe it’s a bad idea to live together while I’m working for you.”

“Odds are we will hardly even see each other, for one thing. And for another, we started before you ever started working there. Plus—haven’t you ever had that fantasy of doing the boss in his office on your lunch break?”

“No,” she said in a deadpan voice. “Never.”

I let the smile show, finally. We’d see about that one. Suddenly I had to fight the image of pushing her skirt up, bending her over my desk…oh yes, we’d definitely have to see about that one.

I shifted again. “Once the convention is over and Cathleen’s back, you’ll have the time in the new year to prep for med school. I suspect by that time the multitude of offers will be rolling in, even though we both know you’re going to UCI.”

She darted a glance out of the corner of her eye. “If I get accepted there.”

I nodded. “You will.”

We pulled into the company parking lot and it felt…strange. I’d been away for almost three months. During the five years before that, I’d practically lived here—and our former location. After months away, it felt bizarre to come back. It was also unsettling. And I couldn’t have named the reasons why.

I’d left to prove something to myself—and to prove it to her, too. I’d been addicted to the work, but I’d had to break myself of it. I could defeat it. I’d used it as a crutch to keep life at a distance. I was wary of falling into that old trap again. Like an alcoholic staring at an untouched martini or a food addict with a hamburger right in front of him. The gleaming mirrored turrets of the modern castle-like structure loomed over the parking lot, almost like arms, reaching out to take me in like an old friend.

I took a deep breath and remembered that I’d proven I could live without the company and the company could live without me—for at least one quarter of a year.

Still, I was uncertain of whether I could maintain my current Zen rather than fall into those old patterns. I looked over at Emilia, watched her as she leaned over, kissed me.

“I love you,” I said.

“I know,” she replied with a grin and got out of the car, and moved across the parking lot. She’d keep me on the straight and narrow and out of danger of falling back into that addiction. Even if she didn’t know that’s what she was doing.

When I entered the building a few minutes later, I was greeted by smiles and general cheer from everyone from security to secretarial staff. My intern assistant was downright ecstatic and my personal secretary, Maggie, gave me a weary look and a foot-tall stack of “only the very urgent mail” I needed to look at.

Apparently my CFO, Jordan, hadn’t been thrilled about filling in for me. He’d been pretty hell-bent on talking me out of my leave of absence. On top of that, he and Maggie never got along. I’d hoped that after three months of being forced to work together, they’d find some way to do it. But that apparently was not the case.

The morning started out quietly. I was holed up going through the stack of urgent paperwork, making notes on the letters for Maggie. E-mails would come later—though I’d asked the intern, Michael, to sift through those for me and prioritize them.