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The knot in my stomach tightens. If that’s true, then I’m an even bigger ass than I thought. I can’t imagine what she must think of me now.
I push out of my chair, pacing the length of my office. The polished wood floors creak softly under my weight, the only sound in the silent room.
I catch a glimpse of the shelf across from my desk. It’s lined with awards, photos from movie premieres, and other reminders of my so-called success.
Robin’s photo isn’t there.
It’s not anywhere in this office.
I don’t keep pictures of her at work, but I can see her face so clearly in my mind. Her soft smile, her hazel eyes, the way she used to tease me about taking myself too seriously.
What would she think of me now?
Not because of the sex part—I’ve dated other women since she died, though I was riddled with guilt when I first started.
No, I mean the specific circumstances. Letting my personal life bleed in to Robbie’s. Jeopardizing his happiness because I couldn’t controlmyself.
Taking advantage of my position as boss, though that wasn’t what I intended to do. That’s still what happened, however unintentional.
She’d be disappointed.
I can almost hear her voice, gentle but firm. You’re better than this, Cole.
But am I?
I’ve been short-tempered, distracted, buried in work. I haven’t spent enough time with Robbie, and I’ve driven away caregiver after caregiver with my impossible expectations.
And now? Now, I’ve gone and done something completely impulsive with the one person who’s actually good for Robbie.
What the hell is wrong with me?
A knock at the door pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts.
“Come in,” I say, my voice rough.
Virginia steps in, her heels clicking against the floor. She’s balancing a stack of documents in one hand and her tablet in the other. Her dark hair is pulled back into its usual severe bun, and her tailored suit is as immaculate as ever.
“Good morning,” she says briskly, setting the stack on my desk. “These need your signature by noon.”
Inod, dropping back into my chair.
She doesn’t leave. Instead, she studies me with a sharp, assessing gaze, her arms crossed.
“Everything all right?” she asks, her tone casual but her expression anything but.
I grab a pen and flip open the first folder, avoiding her eyes. “Fine.”
“Really?”
I glance up, meeting her skeptical look. Virginia doesn’t miss much, and today is no exception.
“I said I’m fine,” I snap, more harshly than I intend.
Her eyebrows lift, but she doesn’t push. Instead, she picks up her tablet and starts tapping at the screen. “All right. I’ll be back in an hour for the rest of these.”
The door clicks shut, and the silence settles in again.
I sigh, leaning back in my chair and running a hand through my hair. Virginia’s right—I’m distracted. And it’s not just because of Annie.