Page 84 of Finley

“Ha. Ha. My boss is wonderful, but he’s a very hard worker. Maybe on my next vacationIwill find a beach and a hot man to lie on it with.”

He smiled, thinking about how wonderful this week had been while doing just that. “Well, let me tell you, it’s been a fantastic way to unwind—that’s for sure. Another week and I’ll be ready to get back to the grind.”

“About that…” she said.

He frowned. “About what?”

“The extra week… Mr. Leighton needs you home early.”

Sure he hadn’t heard correctly, he asked, “What do you mean early?”

“I know. I explained that you had an extra week to go, but he insists. Mr. McNamara and Mr. Ackerman are flying in tonight and want to meet with you. He told me to tell you to ‘be back here no later than this evening.’ His words, not mine.”

His mind was racing as he rubbed a hand over his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut.No, no, no. This can’t be happening. Not now. Not fucking now.

“But I have a week left. I’ve earned this vacation, for fuck’s sake.”

“I know,” she said, a wince in her voice. “But you’ve also earned this partnership.”

If it had been any other time, he would’ve dropped fucking everything, hopped on the next plane, and been out of there before she could finish talking.

But it wasn’t any other time.

It was his time with Brantley.

His two weeks. Theironlytwo weeks.

Fuck.

“How long are they going to be there? Surely I can come back in a day or so.”

“They called the meeting for tomorrow morning. He wants you on a plane and back in Chicago tonight.”

“Fuck.”

There was dead silence on the other end, and when he realized how odd this all must seem to Moira, who thought he’d be a little annoyed but thrilled, he pulled himself together.

“I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting to have to cut this trip early. Tell him I’ll be home tonight. And in the office,” he said, but the words sounded detached, as though they were being delivered by a robot.

“Okay,” Moira said quietly, sensing his mood. “Do you want me to book the flight for you? There’s one at two forty-five, so you’ll be back home by this evening. Does that work?”

As if in a fog, he nodded, but words wouldn’t come out. All he kept seeing was Brantley’s face and the smile he’d given him as he’d left earlier.

“Daniel?”

Shit.“Yes. That’s fine.”

“Okay. I’ll email you the confirmation and see you tomorrow.”

He didn’t bother responding as he hit the end button on his phone. He just stood there in the middle of Brantley’s bedroom in a daze and wondered how the hell he was going to tell the man who’d just left that he would be leaving as soon as he walked back through the door.

BRANTLEY RUSHED TO pack up,get in his car, and drive home as soon as the final exam was over. It was a nice feeling to be going home to someone, and it was even nicer that it was to Daniel.

After grabbing his bag from the passenger seat, he slung it over his shoulder as he climbed out of his car. Then he headed up to the front door. He’d been trying to think of things they could do once he got home, and he’d decided to see if Daniel wanted to drive over to Little Havana.

He threw his keys on the table and then walked down the hall. He checked the kitchen, where he dropped his bag on the counter, and then the living room, but Daniel was nowhere in sight. When the curtains swayed from the door he’d slid open before he left, he grinned. But when he peered around the curtains and scanned the patio, again, no one was there.

Frowning, he turned back toward the hallway leading to his room and made his way down there. It was the only other place—unless Daniel had gone for a swim. But as he passed the open bathroom and stepped into his bedroom, Brantley found Daniel sitting in his wicker chair, dressed in grey suit pants and a pressed white shirt. His feet slowed at the odd choice of outfit for a relaxing day, but then his eyes fell on the suitcase by the chair.