Sarah raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, but I don’t mind helping out. Especially if there’s no one to—”

“That’s just it. You need to hire more people. Delegate this kind of thing out to someone else now. You’re the boss. It’s your picture that is in the paper. It’s better business to keep that persona intact. So find someone else for today. Threaten their job. Do what you have to do to make things happen.” She decided to assert herself a little. “I just don’t want you cleaning houses.”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed but her voice remained calm. “You don’t want me to clean houses?”

“You’re beyond that now.”

Sarah had no clue what to say. She didn’t understand where this was coming from, but she certainly didn’t like what it was implying. “I do what I have to do to keep the business running smoothly. If my mother needs my help, I’m going to be there for her. I have bills to pay, Emory. I have a child to support.”

“Then I can pay your bills.”

Sarah steadied herself against the blow, closing her eyes until the urge to snap passed. “You’re serious right now?”

“Dead serious.”

“I can take care of myself. I don’t need or want your money, Em. I never did.”

“Fine, but that doesn’t mean you have to go back three steps, career-wise.”

“What are you talking about right now?” She was staggered by how out of touch Emory was with the realities of her life. “I work for a family-run business. There’s no such thing as a vertical pathway. It takes a village.” But there was an angle to this whole thing that bothered Sarah more, and she had to get to the root of it. “You didn’t mind my working for you at your mother’s house.”

“That’s entirely different.”

“Why? Tell me why that was different.” Her voice was noticeably louder now, but she couldn’t help it.

“Because—”

“Why? Say it, Emory.”

“Because we weren’t together then. It didn’t matter.”

Sarah stared, her voice now calm, even. “And now that we are, I have to be worthy of you, the great Emory Owen?”

Emory looked exasperated, offended even. “What? No. That’s not what I said and you know it. This is about what’s right for you, not me.”

Sarah stared hard at Emory and Emory stared back, crystal blue eyes cool as ice. Emory wasn’t going to give in, Sarah realized, but damn it, neither was she. She wasn’t committing a crime. She wasn’t hurting anyone. This was her job, her life, and she’d live it as she saw fit. “I think we’re going to just have to disagree on this one. You should probably go now. I have to get ready for work.” Sarah didn’t wait for an answer and left Emory standing in her living room as she went in to change.

Once she was alone in her bedroom, Sarah replayed the conversation again in her head. She was angry, yes, but also wildly off-balance by the fact that they’d fought.

It didn’t feel good.

In fact, it felt downright horrible.

She sat on the edge of the bed and allowed her emotions to settle. Once they had, she attempted to see things from Emory’s perspective. In her defense, this was new territory for Emory. Rather than lashing out in anger, maybe she could have taken time to rationally explain to her how things had to work when you weren’t made of money. True, it wasn’t Emory’s place to make decisions for her, but Emory was used to calling the shots in most every aspect of her adult life. Maybe she was in automatic pilot mode. It’s possible that her heart had been in the right place.

She decided that she’d call Emory as soon as she had a spare moment and fix things so the nagging ache in the center of her chest would go away. She grabbed her keys and bag and headed for the door to her apartment. She’d just have to find a way to get through the afternoon.

“Please wait.” She turned at the sound of the voice. Emory sat on the couch looking up at her helplessly, lost. “I don’t want to fight.”

Sarah let her bag fall, a spark of relief flaring in her chest. “God, I don’t either.”

“If you’re happy, I should be happy. Sometimes, I try to micromanage and I shouldn’t have done that today. I just want things to be easier for you, and instead I made them harder. Ignore me.”

Sarah sighed and sat on the arm of the sofa next to Emory, offering a tired smile. “I could never ignore you, even if I wanted to. You’re stuck with my attention, I’m afraid.”

“Even when I’m overbearing?”

“Can you imagine how much I must like you?”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

Emory took her hand and squeezed. “So go to work and forget I was a headstrong idiot. Maybe, if I’m lucky, you’ll call me later and let me know when I can see you again because I really want to see you again soon. You know, redeem my good name?”

She leaned down and kissed Emory’s temple. “I will most definitely call you. I can think of all sorts of ways you can make it up to me. Creative ways.” That earned a smile and Sarah’s heart did a little backflip.

Back on track, she thought to herself, back on track.

*

It was a slow day at Global Newswire, but then mid-quarter Tuesdays always were. Trevor was busy with client mail outs and most of the account execs were out on presentations. Emory picked up the phone, seizing the slower pace of the afternoon.

“Wanna come over and see how a press release makes its journey?”

Sarah paused on the other end of the line. “Are you offering me a tour of your office?”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing. Can you swing it? How are you ever going to understand how to properly market that up-and-coming business of yours without a little hands-on coaching in PR? Plus, that means I’d get to lay eyes on you, which, you know, is kind of the whole point of this phone call.”

Sarah checked her afternoon appointments while Emory waited. “I have to meet my designer, Samantha, at the Miller house at four o’clock. But I have time before. I can be there in a half hour.”

“Perfect. Give your name to the receptionist and she’ll call me when you get here.”

An hour later, as the elevator opened onto the forty-fourth floor, Sarah found herself in a rather impressive looking lobby. It became clear to her that Global Newswire inhabited the entire floor of the office building. Three elegant couches were arranged in the center of the large room with a marble coffee table in the middle. In the corners, towering vases of fresh flowers were each showcased with dedicated accent lighting. A coffee station stood to the right with a stainless steel carafe and every kind of flavored creamer you could imagine. Near the far wall stood a dark oak reception desk complete with a beautiful looking woman behind it.

“Welcome to Global Newswire,” she said in the most soothing voice Sarah could imagine. She was smiling but carried an elegance befitting the rather impressive room. She couldn’t help but smile at the sharp contrast to her mother’s elderly receptionist, Marjorie.

“Sarah Matamoros to see Emory Owen.” The young woman eyed her for a moment, the smile never leaving her face.

“Do you have an appointment with Ms. Owen?” She turned to her computer screen and began tick-tacking away on her keyboard.

“Yes and no. She knows I’m coming, but I don’t think you’re going to see it on your calendar there.”

“I’m afraid you’ll need an appointment. Ms. Owen is very busy and hasn’t made any note of your meeting.”

“Would you mind giving her a call?”

“If you’ll be so kind as to take a seat, I’ll see what I can do.” The smile was no longer quite as warm. Sarah did as she was told, but took out her phone in the process and shot off a quick text message. “Your receptionist thinks I’m trying to infiltrate Fort Knox. Help?”

It was only a moment before her phone buzzed in response. “Well trained, that one. On my way.” Emory appeared shortly and whisked Sarah through the thick oak doors that led into the world of Global Newswire. The receptionist, whose name turned out to be Leslie, apologized profusely, much to Sarah’s guilty pleasure.