Ps You're Intolerable Quotes

Come to me for hugs. Don’t go searching for human contact from inappropriate sources.

You have a village, Catherine. You just weren’t willing to open the door and see it until I forced my way in.

My stomach was filled with flames, and I was burning for her.

I've got so much cum for you, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you again and again until you give me another baby.

Babies weren’t my thing. I’d never paid attention to them before now. But this one struck me as exceptionally pretty and sweet.

Catherine’s mine. If you choose to step up and build a relationship with her child, I’ll be there, always. Hope you like my face because you’ll be seeing it for eighteen years.” My brow winged. “Or not. That’s up to Catherine.

She’s been hearing my voice all this time,” he murmured. “Yep. I’d say she’s formed an opinion of you.” My fingers twitched again, this time with the need to run them through his thick, dark hair and ruffle it up a little.

I hope your lack of response isn’t a preview of what it will be like when you return. Should I expect to wait hours or even days to hear from you? If so, I might need to keep Leafy-Daniel around as my backup assistant.

Elliot is extremely exacting. He doesn’t tolerate anything half-assed. As long as you do things the way he wants, you don’t have to worry about your longevity.” I smoothed my hair away from my face. “Well, I wasn’t worried about him firing me. I asked because I was curious about the turnover rate. Do people often leave—” She held up her hand. “All you need to concern yourself with is the job you do. What other people have or haven’t done doesn’t affect you.” She moved on without waiting for me to comment, making the switch to explaining Elliot’s schedule when something shifted in the air. A hush fell over the already quiet space. I raised my head from the computer, finding the cause coming toward us. Davida straightened as Elliot approached, his long strides eating up the space. My new boss moved with efficient grace. His height and lean build had something to do with it, and the sharp cut of his tailored, charcoal-gray suit only added to his sharklike aura. He homed in on me behind my desk, and I was overcome with the sudden need to wipe my fingerprints from the gleaming surface. “Good morning, Elliot,” Davida said with more cheer than she had shown me.

What the fuck? Understanding slammed into me like a Mack truck. These were directed at me. They had to be. Catherine had written her scathing opinion of me on the bottom of my daily schedules, then precisely cut them off and saved them in an envelope. There must have been over a hundred. One for each day she’d worked for me. Holy shit. That little… My head fell back as laughter rolled out of me. Thick, rumbling laughter from deep in my chest traveled down my limbs through my veins. I knew it. All these months, I knew Catherine had been biting her tongue. It had always been there, right in front of me, but she’d cut it off. Every time she’d wanted to tell me my cyborg was showing or ask me if I was human, she’d stop herself and save it for her morning ritual. Christ, this woman. She was something else. I should have fired her for putting me through weeks of being driven insane by paper length, but this was too funny to be angry over. My little prim and pressed Catherine Warner was an undercover firecracker. I’d always known it, but seeing the undeniable proof was wholly gratifying. Her insults were so creative and cutting I couldn’t stop myself from reading more. P.S. Rocks have more emotions than you do.

We’re wasting time standing here. Daniel is getting comfortable, and Josephine looks like she’s ready to sleep in a room with real floors. Let’s go.” “Elliot, I—” She turned away, but not before I spotted the tears welling in her eyes. She might have thought me a bastard, but what I’d said was true. This was no place for her and her baby to live. They deserved a far nicer place to lay their heads. I expected a fight. In fact, I was prepared for it, so when she heaved a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumped, and whispered, “Okay,” I was shocked into silence.

Catherine, Coffee’s in the refrigerator. I left the last pear for you. Eat it. It’s the perfect ripeness. Do you like Thai food? Text me when you’re up to let me know. If yes, I’ll bring it home tonight. It’s time we talked about what’s going on with your house. Can we also talk about when you’re coming back to the office? Daniel has been at peak vibration all week. I’m not certain either of us can sustain much more of this. Yours, Elliot P.S. Tell Josephine good morning for me.

I was losing my mind. “Gaslighting” was thrown around all too often. It wasn’t part of my vernacular, but there was no other term for what was happening—unless I actually had lost touch with reality. In the film where the term had originated, a husband slowly drove his wife mad by adjusting the brightness of the gas lamps in their home and persistently denying her reality. I had a stack of Catherine’s handwritten schedules in my drawer. Each one was one inch shorter than the paper Daniel put on my desk every morning. At first, I hadn’t noticed. I’d been so thrown off by a new person sitting across from me I hadn’t paid attention to the measurements of the paper I’d been given. But from the very beginning, I’d had a feeling of wrongness I hadn’t been able to shake.

was still laughing when a man stepped into our path. “Where do you get off, Levy?” Before I could process what was happening, Elliot’s arm shot out, shuffling me behind him.

Good morning, Catherine.” “Hello, Elliot.” He placed the carrier on the edge of my desk, and the scent of coffee wafted toward me. I’d been trying to wait until lunch and hadn’t had my hit of caffeine yet. Seeing as I’d almost nodded off, that probably wasn’t happening. “This is for you. Iced, with milk and vanilla syrup.” He nudged the cup toward me and placed a paper straw on top. I almost couldn’t form words, but my mother’s voice in the back of my head overpowered my shock. “Thank you. This is exactly what I needed.” He inclined his head. “I’m early, so take your time.” Then he swiveled around and walked away without another word. “I’ll be in my office when you’re ready.” His kind gesture almost made me feel guilty for my postscript, but I’d learned not to give Elliot too much credit this early in the day. I didn’t doubt he’d earn my harsh statement by the time I left our morning meeting.

want to join us in celebrating the birth of Kit’s daughter?” “Kit?” She barked a laugh. “Catherine Warner, your assistant, Elliot.” Realization finally dawned, and my stomach plummeted like a stone in the sea. “Catherine had her baby?” I asked for the sake of clarification, even though the truth was pretty damn clear. “But…that isn’t possible. She isn’t due for a week.” Davida chuckled, and so did a few of the assistants behind her. When I scanned their faces, they had all suddenly become really fucking serious with other things to look at, like the ceiling and walls. “That’s only an estimated date,” Davida explained slowly, like I was an imbecile. “The baby is definitely here. I was there when she came into the world.” Raymond waved his cigar around. “As was I.” There were many, many questions on the tip of my tongue, most having to do with why the hell Davida and Raymond had been at the birth. “She had the baby?” That was all I’d managed to shove from my brain, confirming Davida’s assessment. I really was an imbecile. “She did. Our Kit was a goddess.” Davida waved her cigar around. “The little bugger came out plump and cute.

To: catherinewarner@levydevelopment.com From: elliotlevy@levydevelopment.com Catherine, Congratulations on the arrival of your daughter, Josephine. I was told by Raymond and Davida you were goddess-like when bringing her into the world, which I don’t doubt. I’m also not surprised you managed to give birth in an efficient amount of time. Ten hours of labor should be applauded. Not too long or too short. Good going. I’ve seen pictures of Josephine, and she’s as lovely as expected. Good going on that too. Please let me know if you need anything, and I’ll be happy to provide it. Yours, Elliot

Grinning, I scheduled flowers to be delivered to Catherine’s house for after she arrived home, along with a gift card to an online store that had everything since she hadn’t answered me with what she needed. I could have waited for Daniel to do it tomorrow, but it felt like something I had to do myself. Besides, I had time during the ride, so why not make good use of it? Efficiency.

I hurried into the living room, and the kernel grew until it filled my sternum. They weren’t there. The play mat was empty. “Elliot?” I called. “Where are you?” Only a second or two passed, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, Elliot appeared in the kitchen doorway, Joey in his arms. “We’re here,” he answered. My heart was still lodged firmly in my throat. “You’re holding her.” He had my daughter against his chest, facing outward, his hand on her belly to keep her stable. She seemed content, her head resting against him, his suit sleeve clenched in her fist. Somehow, this was different than when Raymond held her. Ray loved Joey, and they were buddies. It made me smile to see them together. But this…I wasn’t smiling. Despite myself, my thighs pressed together, and heat flooded my core. What is this? “She seemed bored, so I took her out back to see the birds.” He patted her round middle. “If I measure her enjoyment by the amount of drool that dripped on my arm, she liked it very much.” A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled out of me. This was all so surreal. “My daughter drooled on you?” “She did.” “You don’t seem mad.” He lifted a shoulder. “I’m not a monster, Catherine. I knew the risks of holding a baby and picked her up anyway.” He jiggled her softly, and she settled even more in his arms. I didn’t know how to handle this man holding my daughter so delicately—or my body’s immediate reaction. I walked toward them, intent on taking her back, giving him the schematics, and hustling him out of there so I could regain a semblance of equilibrium. “You’re limping.” I stopped moving. “Yes. I stubbed my toe. I’m fine, though.” He closed the distance between us. When Joey alighted on me, she gave me my favorite smile: open-mouthed with the sweetest little coo. “Hi, Joey-Girl,” I cooed back. “Did you get a ride with Elliot? He’s so tall, isn’t he? You’ve never been that high up before.” “Her father’s short?” I huffed. “No. He’s pretty tall too.

Thank you,” I rasped, my throat clogged with emotion. “She gets a little fussy in the evening. I haven’t been able to eat dinner with both hands in a long time.” Supporting the back of her head in his wide palm, he held her on his arm so he could peer down at her. “You don’t look fussy to me,” he said to Joey in his usual tone. “You do move a lot, though. I remember you in your mom’s tummy. You were rolling like an alligator.” She kicked her legs and stared up at him like she did her best friend, the ceiling fan. Her big milk-chocolate eyes were fascinated, locked on Elliot and hardly blinking. I swallowed my bite of garlic bread and wiped my mouth. “You’re good at holding babies. Have you been around many?” “This is my first one.” He dragged his fingertip along her cheek. “I did some reading on the subject.

Opening her back door, I unlatched Josephine’s car seat from the base. She was fast asleep from the short car ride. Her long lashes brushed the top of her apple cheeks. Babies weren’t my thing. I’d never paid attention to them before now. But this one struck me as exceptionally pretty and sweet.

How many weeks is Catherine now? Probably too far along to fly, huh?” Thirty-seven weeks. Much too far along to fly. And my dread grew with every day that passed, knowing I’d soon have to deal with a bumbling idiot who was very much not her on a daily basis. “Catherine’s pregnant?” Elise straightened, pinning me, followed by Weston, with a glare. “Neither of you told me. Why is that?” Weston’s fingers curled around her bicep. “I didn’t realize it was something you’d want to know.” I lifted a shoulder. “You’ve only met her a couple times.” Elise rolled her eyes. “So? She’s important to you, isn’t she?” I hesitated to agree, but she wasn’t wrong. Catherine kept me running on a daily basis, and she was so easy to be around. I spent more time with her than any of my previous assistants. “Yes, she is,” I admitted. “Then I want to buy her a gift.” Elise turned to Saoirse. “What are you doing after this? We need to shop for the baby.” Saoirse rubbed her hands together. “Yes, we absolutely do. I know the cutest little shop nearby. What’s she having, Elliot? Boy or girl?” “I have no idea.” Saoirse’s mouth dropped then snapped shut. “Why am I not surprised you haven’t asked? If it doesn’t make money or help you conquer the world, it isn’t on your radar.

ripped the top and pulled out a card with the name of a spa I could never have dreamed of setting foot in. Opening it, I found a gift card for five hundred dollars inside. “What’s this?” I squeezed out of my tightening throat. “For you. I’m told they do prenatal massages, foot treatments, anything you want. Or you could save it and use it after she’s here.” I was nearly speechless. Elliot had barely acknowledged my pregnancy since our initial conversation—which had been more than fine, honestly—but hearing him call my baby she nearly undid me. I didn’t know why. Maybe because I had no one to talk to about any of this with besides Davida and Raymond. Having her acknowledged sent me into a mini tailspin. It made this even more real. “This is incredibly generous. Thank you so m—” My words were cut off when Baby Girl decided to do a death roll and shoved aside my lungs to stretch out and get comfortable. “Catherine?” Elliot leaped to his feet in alarm. I would have told him I was fine, except I’d lost my breath. “Are you okay?” When I didn’t reassure him quickly enough, he was around the desk, crouching in front of me. “Catherine…

If he really wanted to get me something I could use, a gift card for Target would have had me singing his praise. Do you know how many diapers I’m going to need?” She shook her head again, less subtly this time. “I didn’t either, but I looked it up, and it’s staggering.” I sighed. “I—” “Excuse me.” I whirled around at the sound of Elliot’s voice coming from behind me. He was standing there, holding my iced coffee out to me. “Elliot—” He shoved the cup toward me. “You forgot this in my office. I thought you might want it.” “Thank you. I do want it.” I took it from him gingerly, trying to catch his eye. He allowed his gaze to graze mine once, then he nodded and walked away. Davida broke the thick silence first. “Shit.” I turned around to face her. “How much did he hear?” “All of it, darling. Didn’t you see me shaking my head?” I slapped my hand on my forehead. “I thought you were going along with what I was saying. You need a better signal.

that came out of my body had been truly shocking, and I’d been terrified out of my mind. But then, her. Josephine March Warner. The prettiest girl to ever land on this planet. I would never forget the events that came before her, but her very presence made the pain, grossness, and terror fade into a distant memory. I would have done it a thousand times over to relive the moment I got to meet my girl. We’d been home for six weeks, and she was my only up. The rest had been down, down, so fucking far down, I had no idea how I’d claw my way back to the surface. First of all, Liam was a thieving motherfucker.

She patted my hand. “Have you heard from Liam yet?” I scoffed. “No, and I don’t expect to. He only goes where the fun is. Once the excitement wore off, being a dad wasn’t exciting to him.” “That twat. I hope he contracts syphilis and his dick falls off.” “There’s modern medicine to prevent that kind of thing now.” She shrugged. “This is my dream, and we don’t have any medicine that will work on twats.” “Fair enough.” I drank my coffee around my grin. “He’s probably using his dick enough that syphilis isn’t outside the realm of possibilities.” She arched a brow, eyeing me carefully. “Does that bother you? Knowing what he’s doing on the other side of the world?” I put my coffee down and swiped my index finger through the condensation, considering her question. “It does and doesn’t. I never thought of him as a potential boyfriend or husband. I’ve known him too long to think he’d be good at either. But that man was my friend, you know? He knew my history, my trauma, everything. And he just left me.

Catherine lived in a two-story Craftsman. It wasn’t much from the outside. No landscaping, a crumbling porch, paint chipping off the rails and trim. The windows couldn’t have done much to regulate the temperature. They had to be at least thirty years old, and only half had screens. This surprised me. Catherine was fastidious in all ways, but her house was a bit of a wreck. The neighborhood was all right. At least she wasn’t in imminent danger of being shot or mugged when she stepped outside. There were no cars in her driveway, so I wasn’t certain she was home. I reached for the doorbell but hesitated. Probably better to knock, just in case Josephine was sleeping. As I’d been told more than once, babies did a lot of that. It took a while. So long, I was about to give up when the door finally swung open. “Elliot?” Catherine stood in the open doorway, waiting for me to say something. The problem was, I’d been rendered speechless. The Catherine I knew was buttoned up to her neck, hair tied back, conservative, and almost modest in her style. The woman in front of me was barely dressed. Her shorts stopped at the top of thick, creamy, tattooed thighs. Her tank top didn’t cover any more of her. Her breasts nearly spilled out of the low neckline, belly button peeking out from the gap above her shorts. Her bare arms were covered in colorful tattoos from wrist to shoulder. Her hair, which was always tamed into submission, spilled around her shoulders and neck in a violent riot. It wasn’t curls like I’d always suspected, but wild, licking, wavy flames that shot out in all directions. I met her eyes, which were wide with alarm, and finally found my voice. “This isn’t what you look like.

When Joey and I finally made our way downstairs in the morning, Elliot was long gone, but he’d left me a croissant on a plate on the counter, along with a note and his garage door opener. Catherine, There’s fruit in the refrigerator and groceries will be delivered at 2 p.m. I didn’t know what you like to have on hand, so I ordered some of everything. In the future, you can make a list. It was my mistake not asking for your requests. Please make yourself at home. I left you the remote to the garage. The alarm code is 052106.

Elliot appeared in the open doorway just as I was about to sit down on my bed to examine my foot. He waved me over, so I grabbed the baby monitor and went to him. “I noticed you were still limping after dinner,” he whispered. “Let me check out your foot.” “Do you have bandages?” “In my bathroom.” I followed him down the hall and into his bedroom, which had the same layout as mine. The design was chic and unfussy like the rest of the house, but there were small details that made this room appear just a little more lived-in than the rest.

Please, dig in. You deserve a nice meal, and I’m sure Josephine will thank you later for it.” I snorted a soft laugh. “Do you think my milk will be richer from this food than PBJs?” He tilted his head toward my plate. “It’s worth a shot.” I smiled at him for a split second before turning all my attention to my food. Well, most of it. Joey was in one arm, so I had to be careful not to drop anything on her head. Poor thing had been glopped with jelly more than once, but luckily, she forgave me. Elliot tapped my arm. “Here. Let me hold her while you eat.” I paused, my garlic bread halfway to my mouth. “What? No. You need to eat too.” He held out his hands, insistent. “I’m fine, and I have a feeling you’ll clean your plate pretty quickly anyway. Give her to me.” He didn’t really wait for me to hand her over, scooping her out of my arms like he was a professional. Elliot was good at everything I’d seen him do, and now I could add “holding my newborn daughter” to the list.

Are you coming back?” I didn’t have the time to beat around the bush. Another sigh, even heavier. “The thing is, I’m working for my dad now. I can’t really leave him in a lurch, and I’ve barely started making money. The flight back isn’t really in the budget.” Deep down, I’d known this was coming, but hearing him say it—really say it—made the bottom drop out of my stomach. I was free-falling with no net. Liam had taken it with him to another continent. “Just say it, Liam,” I uttered. “Kit, fuck, I’m sorry.” There was rustling like he finally decided to get out of bed. “It’s just…I need to be here, helping my dad out. And I met someone—

He wasn’t your friend.” Her head dropped. “So he showed me.” “He’s not a father either.” Another sigh, equally heavy. “I’m aware.” “You’re aware now. You should have been aware a year ago. A man who leaves his pregnant friend alone and then doesn’t come back for his baby is not a good person. You should have seen that far before sinking your savings into a house with no real plans of how you were going to do the work it required or how long you could float before you had to pay the bank.” She leaped to her feet, arms flinging to the sides. “Don’t you think I get it? I’m an idiot. I fell for the pretty picture a man I shouldn’t have trusted painted for me. I should have seen it coming, but I wanted it too bad to use common sense. The house, the stability, the little family. I was dumb and needy. I brought my daughter into a bad situation. I know that. I know it!

don’t know how to accept this.” “All you have to do is say thank you and wear that green sweater on Monday.” That finally got a smile out of her. “The green sweater was my favorite.” I grinned back. “I could tell. You lit up as soon as you stepped out of the dressing room wearing it. But you looked incredible in all of it. I look forward to looking at you in your new clothes every day.” She curled her fingers around my wrist and jerked herself free of my hold. Then she hugged my arm against her chest, nestling it between her heavy breasts. Unconsciously, I took a step closer. “Thank you, Elliot, for everything. You’ve been so generous to me and Joey, and I just—” Blinking, she turned her head to the side for a moment before facing me again. “I don’t think many people would go out of their way for others the way you have for me.” She brought my knuckles up to her mouth and pressed a light kiss there, taking me off guard. When she cupped the back of my neck and tugged me down to her waiting mouth, I wasn’t ready. Her lips slid against mine in a warm, firm kiss my brain was too fucking stupefied to respond to. Catherine kissed me, and all I did was stand there. Just stood there. Unmoving. Unresponsive.

He brought his other hand to my belly, cupping it from both sides. The position we were in was more proximate than suitable for a workplace, but there was no part of me that felt the urge to ask him to step away. My breaths came in short pants, and Elliot’s warmed the parts of my belly he wasn’t touching. “She’s been hearing my voice all this time,” he murmured. “Yep. I’d say she’s formed an opinion of you.” My fingers twitched again, this time with the need to run them through his thick, dark hair and ruffle it up a little. “Lucky for me, she won’t be able to tell me for a couple years.” I laughed again, jouncing my belly. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. She won’t be hanging around the office too much.” I hoped. If I didn’t figure out how to afford day care along with my house payments and the contractor, I might have to put Baby Girl in my drawer and cross my fingers Elliot didn’t notice. Just like that, a bucket of cold reality splashed over me. “Right.” He shook his head. “Right, of course.” Like reality had fallen on him too, Elliot rose to his feet and circled to the other side of his desk. He stood there, focused on his screen, clicking his mouse.

Joey was fed, clean, growing, and cared for. She didn’t need more than she had, but I roamed my broken house for hours while she slept, racked with guilt over bringing her into the situation and terrified of what would happen if I couldn’t fix it soon. I was completely on my own in finding a solution. Liam, my best friend for years, partner, father of my child, had ghosted me. He hadn’t responded to Joey’s birth announcement. Not even a “she’s so cute.” And when I’d texted him about the money he’d stolen from me—I’d finally accepted that was what he’d done—he blocked me. Not just my number but every social media. Liam wasn’t coming back. Not ever. This was my problem to solve.

Elliot, I’m not sure what you’re talking about. There should only be one notebook in my desk. If that’s what he’s using, it’s the correct paper. As for your other questions, my internet is fine, but I was away from my computer. I still have three weeks left of maternity leave, and I plan on using them to the fullest. Don’t expect instant replies, and you won’t be disappointed. If you feel the need to keep Leafy-Daniel, by all means, have at it. But if he’s staying, maybe try being a little nicer so he won’t shake quite as much. That sounds awfully distracting. I hope you’re well.

Elliot Levy was on my porch. Elliot Levy was. On. My. Porch. “Elliot?” He stared at me for a long time. Unblinking, taking me in like he was trying to figure out who I was. Seeing as he had shown up at my home, it made no sense whatsoever. I stared back. His ebony hair was tousled like he’d been running his fingers through it all morning. His plush mouth molded into a frown, pulling the rest of his face down with it, a deep crevice forming between his brows. My chest panged. I’d missed him, but that didn’t seem right. How could I have missed this unyielding, deadly-serious man? My jumbled-up emotions were tricking me. It had been a rough day. Joey-Girl was perfection, but everything else was in shambles.

His frown deepened. “This isn’t what you look like.” My mouth fell open, but I knew exactly what he meant. I wasn’t dressed up like Catherine. Elliot was getting a view of Kit, and he didn’t know this girl. “Ah—I don’t know what to say to that. This is me when I’m not in the office.” I cocked my head, playing off the fact that I was standing in front of my boss in barely more than underwear. They were clothes from before my pregnancy. They’d been snug then. I was much, much curvier now and all too aware I was spilling out of them.

Excuse me. I have to speak to her. I’ll be right back.” By the time I caught up with her, Catherine was at the corner. She watched me approach with wary eyes, her bag clutched in front of her like a shield. “Come back. Elise will skin me alive if I let you leave.” I stopped in front of her, peering down at her. I always forgot how short she was since she didn’t seem short. Then again, this was the first time I had seen her outside a work environment. She was normally pressed and pristine, with neat hair and simple, classic clothing. Today, her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy, unruly bun, and she was cozy in a hoodie and leggings. “Please tell her I already ate.” She tugged at her hoodie, which was oversized everywhere except where it stretched over her belly. “I really feel way too schlubby to go to a restaurant, and all of you—” “You look nice. No one’s going to judge you for wearing a hoodie when you’re thirty-seven weeks—” “Wait, you know how many weeks I am?” Her brow knitted in confusion. “Of course. You told me five weeks ago. Five plus thirty-two equals thirty-seven. It isn’t difficult.” “Oh.

Motherhood had been an abstract concept that had nothing to do with me. But this girl, my girl, had drawn me in from her first breath. Something inside me had recognized her immediately. Oh, it’s you. Of course it is.

Weston cocked his head my way. “It’s not like you don’t have the opportunity, so it’s difficult to pity your celibacy.” “Celibacy? That’s a gross exaggeration.” I slowed my treadmill to a fast walk. “What’s it called when you don’t even try to get laid for months?” Luca asked. “It’s called being busy and a shift of priorities. Unlike the two of you, getting off has never been my ultimate goal.” Luca and Weston may have been devoted to their women now, but they’d spent many years sowing, and sowing, and sowing their wild oats. While I was no monk, I’d never had the urge to spread my seed as far and wide as they did. And as I got older, meaningless hookups became less and less worth the effort. But celibate, I was not. I loved to fuck, but my time and attention were currently being taken by other things. Picking up a woman in a bar didn’t hold any attraction to me at the moment. Luca waggled his brows. “World domination is a lot more fun with a beautiful woman by your side.” “Life in general,” Weston agreed. I hit the stop button on my treadmill and wiped my sweaty forehead off with a towel.

Catherine, Daniel cannot find the contact information for David Sinclair. He claims he’s looked high and low, and now he’s given up. Did you properly file that information? Or is the glorified intern you chose just grossly incompetent? Please reply as soon as you get this. Yours, Elliot No hi? How are you? How’s your day going? Classic Elliot.

Catherine, Is there a reason I don’t have a reply from you in my inbox? Is your internet down? Or are you ignoring me? I recognize you’re on leave, but as you once told me, babies sleep a lot, so you should have ample time to reply to me. I hope your lack of response isn’t a preview of what it will be like when you return. Should I expect to wait hours or even days to hear from you? If so, I might need to keep Leafy-Daniel around as my backup assistant. Please tell me where the notebook you always use to write my schedule is. Daniel found one that is almost alike, but it’s longer, so it can’t be the one.

I opened the notebook, pausing at Catherine’s handwritten name on the inside cover. This was undoubtedly hers, but when I laid the schedules she’d given me inside, they did not match up. This needed to end now. I refused to go another day without getting to the bottom of this. I looked up at Daniel. “I need your desk. Take your laptop to the break room until I’m finished.” He nodded vigorously and practically sprinted from my office. He’d need to toughen up if he wanted a permanent job at this level. I hadn’t even been mean to the kid this morning. Jesus. I sat down at Catherine’s desk and opened a drawer. Everything was orderly, which I expected from her. At the back, there was an unopened box of tampons. I’d started to bypass, but something scratched at the back of my mind. Catherine had been pregnant when she’d started working for me. She hadn’t needed tampons…so why were they in her drawer? I grabbed the box and shook it next to my ear. Closed and sealed, nothing suspicious aside from its existence. I tossed them on the desk, frustrated by my fruitless search. Then, an envelope that had been tucked beneath the tampons caught my eye. There was nothing remarkable about it, and it definitely wasn’t a notebook, but instinct urged me to check what was inside.

Then, she was the first to pull away when I was nowhere near done. I’d had a sample, and now I wanted the entire feast. She flattened her palms on my stomach and pushed back. “I should really go to bed.” I had to force myself to release her hair when I wasn’t even close to ready to let her go. Dragging my fingertips down her bare arms, I stopped at her hands, squeezing them in mine. “Good night, Catherine.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, and every part of me wanted to toss her on the couch and suck that plump lip between mine. “Good night, Elliot.” She walked away, and I groaned when I was alone again. No matter how much I wanted it—I had, that wasn’t ever a question—I’d been avoiding this. Catherine had no idea what she’d awakened when she’d touched her lips to mine. She’d stoked the fire of my desire I’d kept carefully cold for a long time. There was no going back. My stomach was filled with flames, and I was burning for her.

You can’t live here, Catherine.” I tipped my head to the side. “Come with me.” Her mouth fell open. “What?” “I don’t know why your home is in this condition, and I won’t ask you to tell me, but I can’t leave you here. I have a big house with several spare rooms. Plenty of space for you and Josephine. Come now.” “To your house?” she repeated flatly. “Yes. To my house. You can stay as long as you need.” “Why?” After seven frustrating weeks of lagging replies to my emails, allowing Catherine to live in my home would put her right at my fingertips. Any questions I had, I could just ask rather than waiting hours for her to find the time to answer me. She’d get a safe house with real floors and a working kitchen, and I’d have my assistant within reach. It was a win-win. I just had to make her see it. “You’re my employee. You can’t possibly work at the level I need if you’re living in a home like this. Besides, I have all these empty rooms I’m not using. There’s no reason for you to say no.” Her brows dropped. “There isn’t?

Elliot steepled his hands beneath his chin, observing me through slit eyes. “Do you have a problem with my manners, Catherine?” “I don’t, Elliot.” I tugged down on my dress harder than necessary. “Now, do you have anything I should know about today?” The meeting went on as usual after that. Until the end, when I asked him if there was anything else. Elliot peered at me for a long moment. “You can’t come to work in that dress again. It no longer fits you, and you wore it three days last week.” My mouth fell open.

I’m curious why you’ve kept them so thoroughly covered all this time.” She let her sleeve fall down to her wrist. “I suppose I have a little boomer in me. I can hear my father’s voice in my head, telling me tattoos aren’t professional. And since I didn’t know how you’d feel about them—though I admit I assumed you wouldn’t be a fan—I decided the safer option was covering them up.” “I’m not a fan of all tattoos, but the ones I’ve seen on you are really nice.

She sucked in a jagged breath. “It’s a bit of a story.” “I have the time. Tell me.” Without further preamble, Catherine launched into a tale that made my jaw tighten and fists clench. This dick, her purported friend, had gotten her to sink her savings into a house far too expensive to make sense as an investment. Had he done his own research instead of listening to some random person volunteering with them, he would have known that. On top of the ill-advised investment, the ex had hired shoddy people to do the work, and when Catherine couldn’t pay, they’d upped their shoddiness and stripped her house bare. Liam was lucky he was on another continent. He showed his face around me anytime soon, the violence thrumming in my veins wouldn’t be contained. “Who the fuck does that to their friend?” I seethed. “I know.” She pressed her hands to her temples. “Who the fuck does that to the mother of their child?” “I know, Elliot.

Un-fucking-able to think. Her lips fell away from mine, and she was a foot away, covering her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide with horror. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. That was—won’t happen again. I’m so, so sorry.” The moment she turned to run, my brain came back online. She was leaving, thinking she had something to be sorry about. That wasn’t even close to the case. Arm snapping out, I captured her by the nape, spinning her into my chest. We collided with a huff of her breath, her breasts pillowing against my upper abdomen. Not giving her another second to berate herself for reading me, the situation, my feelings wrong, I dipped down and covered her mouth with mine. My fingers dug into the back of her hair, and hers fisted the sides of my T-shirt. It was all I could do not to crush her against me and drink from her lips now that I had her in this position, but I restrained myself, kissing her slowly, urging her mouth to move with mine with the sweep of my tongue along her upper lip. I tasted her sweetness, sucking it into my bloodstream. Tangled my fingers in her thick, wild locks. Clamped my arm around her waist, holding her as close as I could in this position. Catherine kissed me back with timid caresses at first, but soon, she became more sure, snuggling closer, sucking deeper, sighing her breath into my lungs.

Hug,” he softly demanded. “Okay.” I circled my arms around him, my stress from the last twenty-four hours slipping as his heart thumped under my cheek.

If I choose to pour my life into something, I handle it with care.

I will love you with every single breath in this life, and when I go back to the earth with you, I will love you in every flower that blooms, every seed that brings fruit, each gust of wind, drop of rain, and snowflake that falls.

For the one-hundred-and-eleventh day, I arrived at the office at eight a.m., sat down at my desk, flipped open a notepad, and neatly wrote Elliot Levy’s schedule in black ink. And at the bottom, following the notation for his last meeting of the day, I included a postscript—which I’d been doing for a hundred and one days. Yesterday’s had been: P.S. Are you even human? The day before: P.S. You remind me of porridge. Today’s: P.S. You’re intolerable. Then, like I always did, I precisely sliced that strip off the bottom, slid it inside an envelope with all one hundred and one of the others, and returned it to its place at the back of my desk drawer beneath my box of tampons. In my current condition, I absolutely did not need them, but I’d found tampons were the best deterrent for most men. Though I regularly questioned if Elliot was a cyborg, I couldn’t picture him willingly touching feminine hygiene products either. This was my only form of rebellion. Those postscripts allowed me to release a tiny drip of the anger I swallowed down on a daily basis. When Elliot’s demands became unbearable, I took out my envelope, ran my fingers over the one-inch strips of “fuck you very much,” and immediately calmed. The therapist I’d been forced to see when I was a teen would have been proud…ish.

working for him while I was on maternity leave, but he was almost impossible to talk to despite the amount of time we spent together. I’d traveled with him to Switzerland, Dubai, and China, as well as New York and Chicago. When we were home, we spent time visiting sites all over Denver. And during car and airplane rides, hotel stays, business dinners, and site visits, Elliot had remained a wall of marble, so smooth and impenetrable, everything rolled off him. I was back at my desk, sipping water from the giant jug I drank from all day when Elliot strode toward me. I tucked my jug by my feet and straightened my spine. “Good morning, Elliot.” “Catherine.” He breezed by me without looking up from his phone. And Davida and Raymond wondered how it was he hadn’t noticed my pregnancy. He barely noticed me as long as I got the job done. I followed him into his office with my notebook and handwritten schedule, which I slid to the middle of his desk. As always, he shifted it a fraction of an inch. Probably used the lasers in his cyborg brain to find the exact center. I took a seat across from him, holding my notebook in front of my stomach.

doing today?” I placed my hands on my desk. “I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. Mr. Levy is always busy.” Busy, abrupt, demanding, intolerable. I kept those adjectives between me and my postscripts. Tapping the edge of my desk, he grinned. “I get it. I’ve known him since college. The guy never changes.” Standing up, I turned toward Elliot’s office when Luca’s words stopped me in my tracks. “Hey, congratulations.” My brows rose, and I swiveled back around, momentarily confused. When his eyes landed on my stomach, I understood. “Oh. Thanks. I’m not used to people noticing yet. It only started happening this week.” “I have a pregnant sister, so maybe I’m more attuned to it these days.

I looked up sharply, displeased to find Donald’s attention on Catherine, who’d been silent at my side throughout the entire confrontation. She offered him a soft smile. “Can I call a car for you, Mr. Rockford?” His mouth fell open then slammed shut. She’d stumped him with her politeness, and I was quietly amused. Catherine had a way of handling the men I met with on a daily basis. Her manners never failed her, but she had a cutting edge beneath her soft outer layer. “No, you can’t call a car for me, young lady.” “Oh, that’s too bad.” She gestured politely to the door. “If there’s anything else I can do to make your exit easier…” His nostrils flared, and his eyes fell on her belly. “You really want to bring a kid into the world working for a man like this? What kind of mother are you—?” That was enough. I jerked him back by the collar of his sports jacket before he could complete his filthy question and marched him toward the door. He resisted, but the old guy wasn’t much more than bones and paunch beneath his tailored suit, so the little fight he put up was laughable. Once he was on the street and my security team was alerted to keep him there, I rejoined Catherine in the lobby. Her lips were rolled over her teeth, eyes on her feet. “Do you have anything to say, Catherine?” She shook her head. “No. Nothing at all, Elliot.” She held her notebook against her chest, her gaze averted. On anyone else, I might have taken her response at face value and believed she was interested in the uninspired architecture of our new building. But not Catherine. She’d been holding herself back from day one. If I hadn’t been so impressed by the ingenuity she’d shown in making an entirely new outfit from the lost and found box—a discarded cardigan, athletic leggings, an oversized blazer, and a tie as a belt—I wouldn’t have hired her. Not because her résumé wasn’t up to snuff. It had been fine. And it wasn’t because her answers to my questions had been anything less than passable.

Details were important to me. If I missed one number, it could be catastrophic. That was why I didn’t miss numbers. I studied details. Yet, I’d missed a glaring one. Catherine was pregnant. Now that I’d been made aware of it by my smug friends, Weston and Luca, I questioned how I could have missed it. Seated across from me, her round stomach stretched her thin, black sweater to within an inch of its life. I didn’t like being surprised almost as much as I hated blue ink. She lifted her eyes from her tablet, catching me studying her. Her head cocked, and she rubbed her lips together. I glanced down at the swell of her belly, and she exhaled. “Are you ready to have this conversation?” I asked. “Not really.” Slowly, she lowered her tablet to the seat beside her. “An email would probably be more efficient.” “We seem to be in the car for the long haul. I’d prefer to make use of our time.” I tapped the window, drawing her attention to the bumper-to-bumper traffic. “Were you planning on giving birth at your desk?” Her mouth twitched. “That would have been quite an announcement. No, that was never in the cards.” “Are you coming back after your leave?” She jolted like I’d shocked her. “Of course I am. I have to work.” “How will you do this job with a small baby at home?” Her hands stacked in her lap. “Are you allowed to ask me that?” “Probably not, but it’s a genuine concern. Will your husband be able to take over childcare while you’re traveling with me?” She let out a lilting laugh. “Oh, I don’t have a husband.” I would have been surprised if she’d said she did since her background check hadn’t turned up a marriage. But a lot could change in a little time, so anything was possible. “Your boyfriend?” “Same answer.” For the second time, I was taken aback. The background check had revealed Catherine owned a house in Denver and lived with her partner. Whether they were still together was none of my business, and I was certain she’d tell me exactly that if I asked. “Do you have a plan?” I pressed. “You don’t have to worry about my plans, Elliot.” “I do if it affects your work. Is this”—I outlined the shape of her stomach in the air in front of me—“going to slow you down?” “Again, are you allowed to ask me that?

Deliriously tired but never resentful.

My hopes were dashed by noon. When I returned to my desk after lunch, there, sitting in the very center, was a small red envelope with a distinctive white bull’s-eye. A knot in my throat, I opened it and nearly shrieked at the amount. One thousand dollars. Holy shit. My hands trembled as I read the note. Catherine, Something useful to go along with the luxury. The spa card doesn’t expire. Use it when you have the time, even if it’s three years from now. Congratulations on your impending arrival. I should have said that sooner. -Elliot

Davida caught sight of me and greeted me with a big grin on her face, shifting her cigar to between her fingers. “Good morning, Elliot.” Crossing my arms, I leaned against the doorjamb. “Good morning. What’s the occasion?” She slung her arm around Raymond’s shoulders. “Ray and I are daddies now.” “I—” I had no answer for that, and I was fairly certain I didn’t want clarification. “Well, all right. Congratulations. Have you seen Catherine?” Raymond’s eyes bugged. “Uh…” Davida took over. “Elliot, what do you think we’re celebrating?” She let go of Raymond and walked over to me. Slipping another pink cigar from the breast pocket of her blazer, she held it out to me. “Here you go. It’s only made of gum since you won’t allow us to smoke in your building.” I hesitated, taking it from her. “Why are you giving me this?

Elliot, Only you would praise me for my efficiency in childbirth. I wish I could take the credit, but I had no idea what I was doing, so I think we can both agree it was just luck—and there was nothing goddess-like about it. I am cringing thinking about which pictures Davida might have shown you. There weren’t any of me, were there? I’m really hoping you’ll tell me you only saw my Joey-Girl. Please tell me she didn’t send you any pics of the emergence. I’ll never be able to look at you again if she did. Thank you for saying she’s lovely. She really is, isn’t she? Yours, Catherine P.S. I’m sorry if I’ve said anything unprofessional in this email. I’m running on no sleep and might be slightly delirious. Please disregard anything that might get me reported to HR.

It had taken me until the second week of Catherine’s absence to figure out what it was. The fucking paper was different. Daniel had denied it. He claimed to be using Catherine’s notebook. All evidence had proved his claims, but it was impossible. And Catherine had been no help. She’d taken far too long to respond to simple emails, and when she finally had, it had been to back up Daniel’s story. So, I was either going insane, or Daniel was fucking with me. If this was some sort of corporate espionage, it was cleverly insidious. My thoughts were preoccupied with the damn paper. Even when I was out of the office, something would trigger my brain and I’d wind up thinking about it. I stared down at the paper Daniel had just slid onto my desk with shaking hands. Next to it was the stack of schedules Catherine had given me during her tenure here. “Do you notice a difference?” I asked calmly. He clutched his hands in front of him, but it did nothing to alleviate his shakes. “Yes. I see the one I gave you is longer than the others.” “Right.” I held my hand out. “Give me the notebook.

I cracked the top and peered in, confused by the contents. Why did Catherine have strips of paper stashed away? Turning the envelope over, I let them spill out on her desk. I chose one and read her neat handwriting. P.S. You remind me of porridge. Frowning, I read it again and again, but clarification didn’t dawn. What was this? I read more, one by one. P.S. Your cyborg is showing. P.S. I bet you sing Barry Manilow in the shower. P.S. You wear pleated khakis on the weekend. I just know it. It took me until the fourth strip to realize they were all exactly one inch wide and the paper matched the notebook. Son of a bitch. I scooped the strips back into the envelope and carried them into my office. There, I dumped them all out again and matched one perfectly to Catherine’s previously written schedules. My heart slammed in my chest, but my brain was five steps behind. I read more of them, still trying to comprehend what I was seeing. P.S. Are you even human? P.S. Do you shower in your bathing suit? P.S. You’ve memorized the lyrics to every single Nickelback song, haven’t you? P.S. I would rather be trapped in an invisible box with a mime before hanging out with you.

Here’s one: P.S. Being with you is like wearing wet socks all day long.” He let out a startled laugh. “That’s directed at you, isn’t it?” “I should be insulted you figured that out straight away.” “But you’re not.” “No, I’m not.” “Read me another one,” he demanded. So, I did. I went through at least twenty of them, only stopping because Weston was laughing too hard to hear me. He was getting more of a kick out of this than I had. “It’s not that funny,” I muttered. “Oh, yes it is. I can’t wait to tell Elise about this. Can you email me some of these? I won’t remember all of them. The mime one, though, that will stick with me. Golden.” “I’m not emailing you so you can laugh at me with my sister.” “Fine. Don’t email me. We’re going to be laughing at you either way.” “Asshole.” There was no heat behind my curse. I liked that my sister and best friend spent time laughing together, even if it was at my expense. They both deserved it. His laughter finally petered out. “You’re not mad, are you?” “No, I’m not.” He sighed. “I can’t believe polite little Catherine has this kind of venom in her. I like it. The question is, how do you feel about your discovery?” “Relieved I’m not going out of my mind.

I will love you with every single breath in this life, and when I go back to the earth with you, I will love you in every flower that blooms, every seed that brings fruit, each gust of wind, drop of rain, and snowflake that falls. Always, Catherine. Always.

don’t know if he did. I suppose he must have had an inkling since it’s his fault I am where I am.” She rubbed her lips together. “I met Liam while he was volunteering to build houses in Mexico. I was the project coordinator. Then we traveled around, volunteering, working, and, yeah, partying. We ended up in Costa Rica for a while, and I loved it there. Have you been?” “I haven’t. Unfortunately, my travel has been confined to work lately.