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able to put him into a private school. I had been hoping to hold
off for another year; I would have some money saved by then.
    “But you’re not sick. I’m sure once you’re there with your
friends, you’ll be glad you went.” I studied his unhappy face with concern. “Did
something happen at school?” Maybe I needed to call his school counselor.
    My little brother’s face got alarmingly red before he
exploded. “I hate school! Mom would have let me stay home!”
    “I’m sorry, Marcus. I’m sure if Mom were here, she’d want
you to go to school too.”
    “That’s not true! Mom would have understood. You never listen
to me. You always treat me like a little kid. I hate you!” He picked up his
backpack and barreled his way to the door.
    “Marcus!” I knew he was lashing out, but each word was a
direct strike to my soul.
    The front door slammed behind him.
    Feeling like an utter failure, I dropped my head into my
hands. I didn’t normally indulge in tears, but grief and self-doubt mixed
toxically and powerfully, bursting through my control. Tears streamed onto my
palms, seeping through the cracks in my fingers. My shoulders shook as raw,
ugly sounds emerged from my throat.
    I missed my mom so damn much. Marcus was right. She would
have understood him so much better. In so many ways, I was finding my way like
a blind person. I was barely able to get my own life together; how was I
supposed to take care of a teenager?
    I curled up on the sofa and sobbed, indulging myself in a
cathartic cry.
    My eyes were puffy and tender when I showed up for work.
Alana looked triumphant when she saw me, but my misery insulated me from caring
about her pettiness.
    As soon as Jake saw me, he honed in on my red eyes and demanded,
“Cora, are you okay?”
    “I’m fine, Jake. Just a rough morning.” I winced at the
sound of my hoarse voice.
    “Is there anything I can do?” he
asked gently, his look almost affectionate.
    I shook off the ridiculous thought. I had given myself a
stern lecture over the weekend about my inappropriate feelings for my boss, but
apparently I hadn’t absorbed any of it.
    “No, it’s fine. Really. I won’t let it affect my work. Let’s
go over your day!”
    His lips pressed together in annoyance, but he didn’t say
anything. I was relieved when he launched into his usual string of instructions
related to meetings and projects. I found solace in the busyness of the
morning. Every now and then, I felt his eyes on me as he came and went from his
office, but my posture didn’t invite him to stop.
    “Who are you?” A heavily accented voice demanded.
    My head snapped up and I met the contemptuous gaze of
Carolina Oliveira. She was even more gorgeous in person than on the cover of a
magazine. Her café-au- lait skin was flawless. Her
cheekbones could have been cut from glass. The skin-tight black dress she wore
hugged her figure to dramatic effect.
    “Oh!” I said stupidly.
    Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you?” she repeated with
impatience.
    “I’m Cora Branton , Jake’s new
assistant,” I said briskly, trying to not let her rattle me.
    “You call him Jake?” Her eyes were slits now and I wanted to
tell her it was not a good look for her, but I swallowed the catty comment.
    “Mr. Weston insisted. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll
check if he’s ready to see you?”
    She drew herself up in exaggerated affront. “I do not need
you to call. Jake is always happy to see me.”
    Jamie was right. This woman was a piece of work. “I’m sure
he will be ecstatic to see you.” That seemed to soothe her ruffled feathers.
“But, I still need to check to make sure he’s not in the middle of something
important.”
    Instantly, she was all prickles and thorns again. “I am important! I am his amor .”
    Don’t roll your eyes,
Cora. “Ms. Oliveira, if you’ll just wait–”
    But she was already at Jake’s door. Without even knocking,
she barged in.
    I stood up from my chair, but when there