“I told you I’m fine, Noah.”
“But you’re not. I… I didn’t know.”
Her head tipped to the side as she looked at me. Stepping close, she closed a hand over my sleeve. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay! Nothing is okay!” I forked my fingers through my hair, leaving it standing on end. Work was my escape, the one thing that took my mind off Avery. I couldn’t have stress there as well. And I couldn’t risk Lucy quitting. “Why does everything have to be so fucked up?”
“I…” She shook her head, genuine concern reflecting in her eyes. “I don’t know.”
“You like me. She likes him. I like her. Can’t anyone get it right?”
Her eyes turned startled and wide. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?”
Her teeth were chattering, and her breath formed a cloud of vapor between us. I’d been so out of it when I left my apartment, I didn’t even have a coat to offer her.
Cupping my hands over her arms, I tried to warm her skin. “I think you’re great, Lucy. The reason my company works so well has as much to do with you as it does with me. And I think you're pretty. Some guy is going to—”
My eyes widened as she lifted to her toes and pressed her lips to mine. I broke the kiss and stepped back.
My hand covered my mouth as I stared down at her with a startled gaze. “Uh…”
“It doesn’t always have to be complicated, Noah.”
Oh, yes, it did. “Okay, let's not do that again.”
“Sorry.”
I held up my hands. “It’s cool.” My voice took on a higher pitch. The wind cut through my clothes, and I shivered. “How about we walk for a little bit?”
She nodded, and we strolled through Rittenhouse. Her little heels ticked along the cobblestone as I tried to think of something to say. I couldn’t say goodnight until I was certain things wouldn’t be awkward in the office between us.
“How long have you felt this way?” I asked.
“Since the first time you called me at home on a Saturday and said you needed me. I think that was about two weeks after I started working for you.”
Shit. That was over three years ago. “I do need you.”
“I know. And I love feeling needed like that, so I might misread it from time to time. Maybe I tend to romanticize things, and I’m sorry. But … please don’t fire me. When you called me at my nephew’s party, I would have come to you. It didn’t matter what you wanted. You’re the only person who makes me feel … important. You’re the only person who actually needs me to be there on a regular basis. And so long as I remain necessary, I matter. I know it sounds stupid, but—”
“It’s not stupid.”
I wondered if she realized how many men in the office deferred to her. She was my second in command, my right hand. At four foot eleven, she managed to hold authority over the entire staff and keep them in line. And tonight, she took control of her situation by putting herself out there.
“I’d never fire you. But I think you were wrong at the bar.”
“About which part?”
“You said men want women with confidence, but you said it like you see yourself as insecure. You’re confident, Lucy. And the whole office needs you, not just me. You run the show when I’m not there. An unconfident woman wouldn’t be able to do that. I think you know how much you matter, regardless of whether I tell you I need you or not.”
She stopped walking, and I realized we’d made it to my apartment building. “But we all like the reassurance of seeing how necessary we are, Noah. Even the most confident person has doubts. Every time you need me for something, it validates my importance. I’m human enough to depend on that validation.”
No one needed to tell her that she often ran the show more than me. It might be my ideas and my name on the door, but I’d be nothing without her there to keep me organized.
“You know your job’s safe, right?”
She blushed. “I guess.” She smirked. “You’d be a disaster without me.”
I smiled because she was right. I needed her to make the tricky decisions, and that equaled security in her mind. It made her indispensable to my life. She was indispensable because she was the one in control—of my schedule, the payroll, the staff. I’d be lost without her.
She was the boss. I was just … the owner. And it worked.
“That’s it.”
She frowned. “That’s what?”
“You know how important you are to me, Lucy, but you still like when I come to you to solve a problem.”
“Of course I do. That’s my job.”
Actually, it wasn’t. But she’d made it her job, creating a position for herself in my world that no one else could fill. It was why I’d never fire her and why I’d never risk our relationship by getting romantically involved with her. She was priceless.