Page 8 of Heart Like Yours

Outside of my best friend Dominik, I don’t have any family left. When his parents died, it hurt more than when my own parents were arrested and relinquished all rights to me. Then when his sister was killed in an accident last year, that hurt just as bad all over again.

But even with the pain from losing them, it made Dom finally waive the no-trade clause that was in his contract with his hockey team back in Colorado. It’s brought us closer than we have been since I went to college.

And now it also means that I have to tell my best friend that in the almost eight years we’ve lived apart, I haven’tjustopened a publishing company.

On top of SweetHeart Publishing, which has grown to be one of the top publishing companies in the country, I also have a majority of shares and investments in multiple successful businesses and real estate along the East Coast. One of thoseinvestments is also tied to him in ways I never originally intended.

At first, I didn’t tell him because I thought it was just pure luck that my investments with Henderson & Co were paying off so well. Then, when I had an opportunity to buy a hockey team here in Tampa a few years back, I planned to use the new Bobcats hockey team as my opening to fill him in when I saw him next. Except we were both busy and kept putting off seeing each other.

Then his sister died and it didn’t feel right to tell him when I finally saw him at her funeral.

Now, even with the guilt eating me alive, I still haven’t figured out how to tell my best friend that I am actually a billionaire.

PAIGE

Ishould have known better than to open up to Garrett on a Monday.

Not because I wanted to keep things from him, but because it meant I had to go through the entire week without knowing what his plans were. I’ve been stuck with that same feeling you get from someone saying “we need to talk”, but then they don’t have time right away. So you’re left to stew on the endless possibilities for what they could say.

It’s a good thing that the team can basically run without me, since I could barely keep my head on straight.

Now it’s Friday and I feel like I’m about to burst at the seams while I basically just watch the numbers on the clock tick painfully away. They practically taunt me, each tick sounding like a reminder that I should have—and could have—left hours earlier.

Garrett has been in and out of calls all day, only taking a break long enough to pop out to grab himself lunch and bring me back my favorite panini around two before going back to his office.

It took a while to get used to him bringing me food, to shake the feeling that I was somehow burdening him or that I owedhim something in return. However, the longer I worked with him, the more evident it became that, to him, bringing coffee or food wasn’t even a second thought. Hell, apparently, the man has a stash of my favorite candy and thinks it’s no big deal. I couldn’t even tell you when I began to accept his food offerings without thinking twice about it. It just happened.

I hit refresh on my inbox for the hundredth time, pleading for any email to drop in and provide me with some sort of distraction. If only I were that lucky.

Maybe he’s waiting for me to come check in with him?

I glance at my open doorway, wishing my office were closer to his rather than down the hall, and contemplate if I should be the one to initiate this conversation. Or maybe he doesn’t have anything and I should just leave him alone. I did kind of spring all of this on him and finding a solution in five days isn’t an easy task.

But leaving now means I’d be obsessing over all the possibilities for the entire weekend.

Before I can stew any longer, my computer dings with a notification from our company’s office chat. I scramble to click it open, my heart thumping heavily against my rib cage as I see Garrett’s name with the new message icon.

Garrett Walker: If you haven’t left yet, can you come see me? If you have left, enjoy your weekend and we’ll talk first thing Monday.

Paige Adams: I’m still here, give me a minute and I’ll head your way.

Sucking in a deep, calming breath, I try to pull myself together before pushing from my chair. Every cell in my body ishumming with the need to sprint down the hallway and demand answers.

I run my hands down my black pencil skirt, tugging it straight, and make sure my white silk blouse is tucked in. Grabbing my compact mirror from the drop drawer of my desk, I take a second to smooth any flyaway hairs that manage to escape my high ponytail. Feeling more in control of myself, I round my desk and start toward Garrett’s office.

The distance between our offices has never been something I’ve noticed before today. I’ve always loved how close I am to the team, being the only office that everyone has to pass after getting off the elevators on their way to the open space that is filled with cubicles for the team. The conference room is across the hall from me, meaning everything I do daily is on one side of the floor. Even when Garrett and I have our Monday one-on-ones, we usually pop into my office right after the meeting with the team.

I used to come to his side of the office a lot during my first year with the company, back when everything was all done on this one floor. However, as SweetHeart Publishing grew, editors were tripping over the design and marketing teams and we were running out of space. Until last year when Garrett purchased the floor below ours. He had the space remodeled to fit the creative team’s needs and hired a marketing manager to oversee their day-to-day needs. Which is why we don’t require everyone who works for the company to come to the Monday check-ins and rely on the department leads to share any needed information.

Garrett’s office is on the far side of the floor. To get to his, you pass everyone and everything. The lunch room, the HR offices, some storage rooms, another conference room that is mainly used for corporate meetings, and an unused office beside his. He once mentioned it was intended for a business partner, but he hasn’t gotten around to finding anyone worth partnering with.

As I round the corner and head down the hallway toward Garrett’s office, I’m momentarily distracted from my nerves. Instead, a sense of awe sweeps over as I look through his open door and take in the view of darkening skies and city lights while moving on autopilot into his office.

Garrett’s office is big, but not in the ‘over-the-top’ kind of way. His large, antique desk is across the room, right in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The view from here has always been my favorite. It overlooks the channel and part of the Tampa skyline. When the sun is setting and the city is draped in the purples and oranges of the night, it’s a gentle reminder of why I love being here.

Not that I watch the sunset from my boss’s office often. It just happens every now and then when we’re in a time crunch.

Garrett glances up from where he sits behind his desk, a crooked grin stretching across his face when he sees me in the doorway.