‘Ruth has been reassigned,’ Arthur said casually. ‘Really, she was far too highly qualified to be just booking your flights and submitting your expenses.’
‘But wasn’t that sort of her job?’ Ash asked, confused.
‘Assistant to the company’s second-in-command?’ Arthur asked, his eyebrows raised. ‘I rather think she was hoping to be a little more involved, don’t you?’
This wasn’t about Ruth at all, Ash realised suddenly. It was about him.
He was the one who hadn’t been involved. Who hadn’t spent more than a night or two in London in two years.
Because London was where he’d lost Grace.
He’d been coasting along on his grief ever since, taking every opportunity to fly away, stay away. And yes, he was working—but that wasn’t why he’d been doing it. Not for the company. For the escape.
‘Ash, your mother and I know the last two years have been unbearable for you.’ Arthur bent forward, resting his forearms on the desk as he looked Ash in the eye. Ash made himself hold his father’s gaze, however much he wanted to look away. ‘And I appreciate that you needed time to grieve, to cope and move on. We’ve tried to accommodate that as best we can within the company. But your mother and I both think it’s time, son. Time to come back to us. Not just to work, but to yourself. Stop running away and start moving towards something again.’
‘So you reassigned my assistant?’ Ash raised an eyebrow. ‘Mum told you to talk to me about my personal life, so you gave Ruth a new job?’ How like his father to make the personal professional.
‘I figured taking away the person who booked the plane tickets might be the only way to keep you in the country long enough to talk to me,’ Arthur said.
Ash looked away, conceding the point.
‘It’s just...been easier to be away, for a while,’ Ash admitted. Then he thought about Zoey, picking herself up and starting over after the latest self-imposed implosion of her love life. She moved on, every time. Maybe his dad was right. Maybe it was time for him to do the same. He straightened up and caught his father’s gaze. ‘But I’m back now. And I’m ready to get back to doing the real work. Not just the busy work or travelling around checking on things that don’t need checking on.’
A slow smile spread across Arthur’s face. ‘Well, that’s good. Because I am rather hoping to retire one day, you know. And if you want to take this place over, we’ve got two years’ worth of work to catch you up on.’
Looked like dinner with Zoey would have to wait. ‘Let’s get started, then.’
* * *
Zoey stared at the pregnancy test in her hand and forced herself to acknowledge the information it was giving her.
Outside the bathroom door, she could hear her two new roommates having a row about who had drunk the last of the vodka the night before. She tried to tune it out as she focused on the word in front of her.
Pregnant.
It said it right there in actual letters and everything. No Is that one line or two? or Do you think that’s really a cross? questions about it.
And it wasn’t the only one. She had three other tests that all said exactly the same thing.
She was pregnant.
She, Zoey Hepburn, disaster magnet extraordinaire, was going to be a mother.
Just when she was starting to get a handle on things.
She’d put off taking the test for as long as she could, but by the time she was three weeks late she hadn’t even really needed the confirmation of the test. Her cycle might have been unpredictable since she came off the Pill, but not that unpredictable. And as much as she’d tried to ignore the exhaustion, the aching breasts and the nausea she felt in the early evening, she’d known what they meant—even if she hadn’t been ready to confirm it until now.
Zoey tucked the test into the bottom of the bin, along with the other two. She didn’t need anyone else finding out about this before she’d figured out what it meant for herself. Five weeks since she’d run out on her wedding. Five weeks since she’d decided to take control of her life and fight for the future she wanted and could make for herself.