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LIAM

Jessica and I stare at each other for a long moment as if there were a glitch in a computer program and the screen froze.

“Are we talking about the same person?” I ask.

“It’s a unique name,” she says.

“And there’s no mistaking Coogan.”

Filled with disbelief, I crouch down and pick up all the stuff I’d scattered on the floor, feeling ashamed and confused.

Jessica perches on the edge of my desk and studies her hands. “The day we met at the bakery, I wasn’t wearing the wedding gown because I thought it was Halloween.”

“You mean you weren’t testing out a witch bride costume?”

She doesn’t look up.

I clear my throat. “I’m sorry for calling you that and for being so rude. I was so caught up in protecting myself, that I wasn’t paying attention to all the people I was possibly harming. A coarse word here. A dismissal there. It all adds up. I can only imagine the wreckage.”

She doesn’t laugh or smile.

An ache that has nothing to do with my workout earlier or from punching the walls seizes me. The worst thing in my life is when Jessica isn’t smiling. This means the best thing in my life is …

Taking her chin gently in my fingers, I tilt her head to meet my gaze.

“Whatever happened?—”

“Despite my hide being as tough as a rhino’s and my personality as bubbly as a dolphin and?—”

“You’re human,” I finish, hopefully encouraging Jessica to open up to me. I know what it’s like to shoulder burdens alone. Not going to say that I’ll suddenly read like an open book, but she has me to lean on. That much I can offer.

She shrugs, folding into herself. “Rexlan and I met on the set of a commercial. I was a cubicle girl. He was the big mean boss, except not to me. In the script, we bonded over antacids. After the wrap, we hung out for a while. His mother showed up. She was very sweet. They took me out for lunch. One thing led to another and soon I was renting a room in their house off Sunset Boulevard, helping maintain her website, packing orders, doing customer service, and denying that I’d gotten sucked into a world that was less sunny and more leechy.”

“I thought you said something about their being lizard fanatics.”

“They were both charming, Or I was gullible. Living in a new city. I didn’t know anyone else. They love-bombed me.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“More like a disaster. It all happened slowly then pretty quickly, I became part of their lives along with a bunch of other people. We were one big happy family, which is what I’d always wanted. While Rexlan played video games, I kept him company. While he ‘worked,’ I helped Sorsha with all sorts of things.”

“Don’t tell me you baked for him.” For some reason, I hate the idea of her bringing him a cake and him dismissing it because he’s pretending to be a commando in Call of Duty. Then again, I haven’t appreciated Jessica the way I should either.

“His mother was putting a lot of pressure on him to get married. His parents were divorced, and I learned that when Rexlan tied the knot, the funds his father paid his ex-wife for Rexlan’s needs would turn into alimony for her—if the bride-to-be got the father’s stamp of approval. According to Sorsha, he was in the movie business and banked a lot of cash in the early 2000s during the reality TV craze.”

“There was another clause that would grant Rexlan access to his trust fund, but I don’t know the details.” She gives a half roll of her eyes.

“Rexlan sounds like a wet handshake.”

Jessica’s expression creases. “I was just happy someone was paying attention to me.”

“You met the father’s stamp of approval, but I take it you didn’t get married.”

“No, he eloped with his secret girlfriend the night before our wedding. I found out at the altar.”

I growl, “He what?”

Jessica shrinks further. I sense this is tied to her childhood, into being rejected.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” I say.

“Is that a command?”

“Rexlan doesn’t know what he’s missing. You’re an amazing woman. Will be an outstanding wife and mother. You are beautiful. Your smile lights up a room. No one can resist it. Not even me, Mr. Meanie himself.”

The corner of her lip twitches. She then tells me about the horror show of a wedding day.

“But that’s not even the worst of it.”

“You sure about that? It sounds pretty bad.”

“Sorsha was obsessed with lizards. I figured it was standard mother-in-law quirkiness. She’d created a legit lizard cult called the Skink Society.”

I nearly choke on my surprise. “What did you say?”

“A skink is a kind of lizard. She had a website with products and seminars, even a private community for rituals.”

“Sounds like a felony waiting to happen.”

“I have no doubt they were funneling money through donations, talisman purchases, and their mail-order lizard tonics for healing, restoration, and increased sensation, whatever that means.” Jessica presses her hands to her face as if to hide.

“That’s possibly the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard.”

So are the strange whooshy feelings I have for her and my constant craving for Bundt cake that just won’t quit.

Peeling her fingers free, I say, “I’m not glad you had a pee emergency, but I am glad we met.”

Her eyes shine. “Wouldn’t we have anyway, since I’m your work wifey?” Her voice is light, almost flirty as he slips out from memories of the past and into the present—into the woman I know and?—

It’s an astonishing transformation and so are these—what are they called? Oh, right. Feelings.

“Needless to say, I was stood up on my wedding day, lost my job, and my place to live all in the space of an hour. After that, I promised myself that I wouldn’t stop smiling or nearly get sucked into a cult again, but I also told myself I’d never, ever date a coworker or boss.”

“Did you really?”

She nods and lets out a long, long sigh.

This is a cue for me to break through my self-imposed armor. But I don’t. Not yet.

Not before Jessica asks, “What are you going to do about your ex?”

But that’s not the question I’m asking. It’s more like What am I going to do about Jessica ?

* * *

I don’t stop thinking about my work wifey. My nanny. My peach. My Jessica. But she can never be mine. Said so herself. Anyway, I’m not worthy of a woman like her.

So I flirt with disaster, knowing I’m the only one who will pay the price. It’s late, but I send her a text. She might be up reading recipe blogs since she struggles with insomnia. I have the coffee bean bill to prove it. Not that I mind.

Me: Are you still awake?

Jessica: Of course I am. Why do you think no one says Carpe Nox as in Seize the Night!?

Me: That’s a very good question.

Doesn’t the moon emoji look like a wheel of cheese?

Me: It kinda does.

Jessica: Want to play truth or dare?

Me: What are we, 12?

Jessica: No, then we’d play spin the bottle.

Me: Not judging, but you had your first kiss when you were twelve?

Jessica: Technically, no. I went into the closet with Bobby Oatkes. It was dark. I picked up Mrs. Oatkes’s shoe. He pressed his lips to the leather sole. We never spoke of it again. But I was also moved to a new town three weeks later, so …

Me: Clever. Glad he didn’t put his dirty lips on yours.

Am I being possessive? Protective? Petty? I don’t know, but the idea of anyone’s lips on Jessica’s makes me want to wipe the smile the guy was sure to have off his undeserving face.

Jessica: How about you? When was your first kiss?

Me: Sounds a lot like we’re already playing truth or dare.

Jessica: Just the truth part. I suppose it would be hard to know whether we follow through with dares.

Me: Then truth it is.

Jessica: Okay, tell me something truthful.

My stomach swoops and energy I shouldn’t have at this late hour suddenly rushes through me. How much truth can I reveal?

Me: I know you call me Mr. Meanie. Have broken the rules … At first I thought it was childish. Now it’s kind of endearing.

Jessica: Says the guy who has adult temper tantrums. I also call you Big Daddy. Just in my head mostly. Is that weird? You’re big and a daddy.

Is it odd that I like that she has names for me?

Me: Are there any others?

Jessica: Love Puff.

Me: You do not call me that.

Jessica: I might now.

Me: Have any secrets?

Jessica: Loads. You?

Me: A few.

Actually, just the one and she can never know. Whatever we have would instantly be over. She’d hate me if she found out.

Jessica: Okay, since you asked and practically had to drag it out of me, I have a deep coffee insecurity.

Me: I didn’t ask and I already knew that.

Jessica: Okay, how about this one? I’m a dysfunctional adult.

Me: On the contrary, you’re highly functioning, running my life, the kid’s, and yours.

Jessica: Turns out it’s easier to help others.

Me: Than to help yourself?

She doesn’t answer, but I want to help her. Show her how special she is. How important. Smart, beautiful, adored. The desire comes over me with the same forceful drive as I have to win the finals.

Whoa. Time to pivot , pivot , pivot . Or not.

Me: Here’s one. My brother has major rizz and sometimes I get jealous.

Jessica: Frizz? Why would you be jealous of that?

Me: No, rizz, like confidence, charm. Basically, he’s my opposite.

Jessica: Look at you, using slang like a modern man instead of a caveman.

Me: So you knew what it meant. Why’d you ask if I meant frizz?

Jessica: Because maybe I wanted to say that I like how you are.

Me: You constantly call me a grump.

Jessica: I never said I don’t like it.

Me: How could you like a grump?

Jessica: Stop being so judgy.

I’m reclined in my bed but feel like I’m falling. Like the world as I knew it dropped out from underneath me. I’ve let go and I’m in free-fall.

So long as I land with Jessica, I can’t say that I mind.

But I cannot entertain anything romantic with my assistant. Certainly can’t date the nanny. Plus she was engaged. Probably not ready for a relationship.

However, I fall asleep, wondering what if …