P.S. You’re Intolerable (The Harder They Fall)

I SAT DOWN AT my desk, unable to keep the satisfied smile off my face. Being in love and being loved made my mundane, everyday tasks feel a lot less tedious.

I was thrilled to write Elliot’s schedule for him. And when I got to the bottom, for my postscript, I had to shuffle through all the things I wanted to say to pick one.

Finally, I decided.

P.S. You’re definitely an android. There is no way someone as wonderful and perfect for me as you can be real.

I sliced the strip of paper off the bottom, opened my drawer, and…stopped.

The box of tampons was askew. Not just slightly, but upside down and turned the opposite way.

Tremors ran through my hand as I picked it up to grab the envelope from beneath it. My heart slammed at the crinkles on the envelope and the strips inside in disarray.

Someone had been searching through my desk.

The only person who’d been in the office over the weekend had been Elliot. He’d found my postscripts?

But…but…he hadn’t mentioned them, and we’d barely spent a second apart yesterday. If he’d been the one looking through my desk, I could only be relieved I’d shredded my first set of postscripts. I shuddered to think of how he would have felt reading those.

When Elliot came striding toward me a few minutes later, so handsome and powerful, my heart rate ratcheted as always, even though my mind was going in a million different directions.

He stopped in front of my desk, a smile hitching the corner of his mouth. “Hello, Catherine.”

“Hello, Elliot.”

That was when he noticed the mess on my desk. The upended tampon box, the envelope, the scattered postscripts. His eyes raised to mine, and they were alight with an emotion I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It wasn’t anger, though.

He lowered his voice. “Come into my office, sweetheart. Let’s talk.”

Shoving the tampons back in my drawer, I picked up his schedule and followed him into his office, closing the door behind me. These days, instead of sitting across from him for our morning meeting, I sat in his lap.

Grossly unprofessional, sure, but we managed to get the job done with an added dose of affection to get us through the day and no one else saw us.

“Did you uncover my secret stash?” I asked.

“I did.” His eyes danced over my face, confirming he wasn’t angry, but I couldn’t get a bead on what he was feeling.

“This weekend?”

He nodded once. “I found your new stash Saturday night.”

New stash? Oh god…

“Did you…you found the first postscripts?”

Reaching up, he slid his fingers through the side of my hair and cupped my head in his wide palm.

“I don’t think you understand to what extent I was driven crazy during your leave. The size difference in the paper…I had to get to the bottom of it.”

“But how did you know there was a difference? I take such a small piece—”

He slid open one of his drawers and brought up a thick stack of paper that matched the schedule I’d placed on the center of his desk.

“I’ve saved everything you’ve ever written for me. I knew Daniel’s schedules were one inch too big, and I was determined to prove myself right.”

My chest went fuzzy at the stack of schedules, which weren’t unlike the stack of notes I’d saved from Elliot at home. We were a pair of sentimental fools when it came to each other, and I loved that for us.

“I thought the tampon box made a good deterrent.”

“It was, but you’d been pregnant since you’d come to work for me and hadn’t had a need for tampons.”

I playfully hit his chest. “Fuck you for being so smart.”

He chuckled. “You’re pretty devious too. The things you said in your postscripts…”

“I’m surprised you didn’t fire me. I wasn’t nice.”

“No, you weren’t.” He slid his fingers down the length of my hair then started all over again. “But those notes were like a journal to you. Private, and I read them anyway. So it would have been my own fault if my feelings had been hurt.”

“Were they?”

“Quite the opposite. I’ve never laughed harder in my life. I even called Weston to tell him about what you’d written. He agreed with your assessment.”

“And somehow, you still wanted me.”

Mirth brightened the gold flecks in his hazel eyes. “From the very first time I saw you.”

I started to fall into him, to let him kiss me silly as he was wont to do, but then I remembered what Ann had said to me about the HR mix-up while Elliot had been away. I’d stuffed that in the back of my mind and had forgotten about it until now.

“When was the first time you saw me, Elliot?”

His brows rose, but he didn’t seem worried, nor did he hesitate to answer me. “Outside the café down the street. I was early and decided to stop for coffee before coming to the office. But the truth was, I was dragging my feet because I’d just fired my last assistant the week before and wasn’t looking forward to the hiring process. I hadn’t even reached out to HR for a new candidate request.”

“Please explain because I’m so confused.”

“Well, you see, I was in a shitty mood and walked up to the café at the same time as a girl with long auburn hair. I opened the door for her. She sped past me, then spun around, curtsied, and said, ‘Thank you so much. You just made me feel good about how this day is going to go.’”

I searched my mind for Elliot, finding nothing but a faceless man in a suit. I must have been too flustered to really look at him.

“I didn’t realize that was you,” I whispered.

“I know you didn’t. You smiled at me, and my heart fucking stopped, but you weren’t really looking at me.”

“You followed me inside?”

“Not in a stalker way. Remember, I’d already been going in.”

“Of course you were,” I quipped. “Tell me more, please.”

“You were standing in line, nodding your head to the music—I think it was Smashing Pumpkins. Then it switched to the next song. I had no idea what it was until later when I looked it up.”

I laughed, knowing exactly the song he meant. “Oh my god. It was Miley Cyrus, ‘Party in the USA.’”

“Yeah.” His mouth hitched. “The baristas started singing along to the chorus, and when you got to the counter to order, you sang too. Not loud. You didn’t make a scene, but you and the cashier had a moment where you were smiling and singing to each other, and it was so intensely human, the short connection of singing a cheesy—”

“Miley Cyrus isn’t cheesy.”

He held up a hand. “Not cheesy, sorry. My point is, watching you ripped my guts apart, the way you connected with her so easily, and I was hooked. I needed to have more of that.”

“So you followed me again?”

He nodded. “Imagine my surprise when you walked right into my building. Then you disappeared into the restroom, and I had no clue what to do. I just…waited.”

“And I ran into you. But I wasn’t supposed to have an interview with you.”

“No, you weren’t. But once I’d spoken to you, I couldn’t bring myself to send you away, so I gave you what I thought was an impossible task.”

“Hoping I’d fail so you didn’t have to do the sending away.”

“Yes. Because I didn’t want things or people, especially not beautiful women who made me feel more for them before we ever spoke than I had for anyone else.” He cradled my jaw in his palm, his eyes darting between mine. “But then you showed up in my office, wearing clothes from the lost and found, and I was forced to interview you. It was torture. I wanted to have you close. I knew that but wouldn’t allow myself to have it.”

“You gave me the job, though.”

His brow winged. That dubious fucking brow. “The background check said you lived with your partner. You were safe for me to have around, so long as I didn’t look at you too closely.”

It broke my heart to think about him not letting himself reach for happiness. He’d gone thirty-one years so closed off it had taken an—admittedly classic—Miley Cyrus song to finally get through to him.

“I’m sorry you found the nasty things I said about you before I shredded them. I hope you know I don’t feel that way anymore.”

His mouth turned into a full, soft smile. “Oh, I do know. I read that I have a cute butt.”

I snorted a laugh. “Well, you do. That’s indisputable.”

“I also read that you think I’ll be a great father.”

I shook my head. “No, that one isn’t right. I take it back.”

He went still. “You do?”

“Yeah, Elliot. You won’t be a great father because you already are one, present tense.”

The breath he expelled could have moved mountains with its force. His arms curled around me, pulling me inside his cave. “Work on the delivery of your devastatingly beautiful proclamations, sweetheart,” he murmured.

“Sorry, love.” I kissed his chin then grazed my lips over his.

“Forgiven, always. I love you.”

“Love you too. So much.”

He tipped me forward and gave my ass a light slap. “Now, get to work. You’ve already thrown me off the schedule you so efficiently wrote for me.”

I jumped up with a yelp and scurried for the door. At the last second, I turned back, my pulse spiking when I found Elliot still watching me.

“Go,” he ordered, an amused slant to his lips.

“I’m going!”

I left his office at the same time Davida and Ray were heading to the break room. The two of them took one look at me and shook their heads in unison.

“It looks like it all worked out, darling,” Davida said.

“Yes, it did,” I agreed.

Better than I ever could have hoped for.

The day came when Liam was supposed to be getting on his plane in Australia to fly to Denver. We’d spoken through text a few times over the last week, and every day that passed had made me more and more nervous.

He’d once been enthusiastic about being a father. What if that had come back and we had to figure out how to split custody while living across the world from each other? I didn’t think I could bear Joey being gone from me for weeks at a time.

I also couldn’t keep her away from Liam if he wanted a relationship with her, even if she already had a father.

Elliot came into the room carrying Joey. She’d learned to blow raspberries recently and hadn’t stopped showing off her new skill. Anyone who came within arm’s reach of her instantly became drenched in her saliva, but nothing deterred Elliot. When he saw her new trick, he proclaimed her a super genius and didn’t even blink when she drenched his shoulder with her drool.

“He hasn’t replied?” Elliot asked.

“No.” I held up my phone. “But he’s a notoriously bad texter, so…”

I hadn’t heard from Liam for a day. Since I’d asked him to send me the details of his hotel so I could arrange for a car to pick him up from the airport, like the kind and generous person I was.

Elliot sat beside me on the couch, handing Joey off to me when she reached her arms out. I plopped her on my lap and sighed, my heart flipping with one part hope, the other disappointment.

“I don’t think he’s coming,” I admitted.

I wasn’t disappointed for myself. My former friendship with Liam had crashed and burned and would never be revived. But one day, no matter how much Elliot and I loved her, Joey would ask what happened to the man who’d helped make her, and I’d have to tell her.

Elliot’s jaw clenched. He was holding back.

“It’s okay,” I told him. “You can say it.”

The look in his gaze was tender, but his jaw remained like stone. “I hope he doesn’t show. I don’t want him around my girls.”

I swallowed hard, choking back the thickness of my swirling emotions. “But one day, Joey will want to know why he didn’t come for her, and it breaks my heart to think of her hurting over this.”

“Mine too, and we can’t help that. It’s going to happen in one form or another. But here’s what we’re going to do: we’re going to fill her up with so much love she’ll barely think about the tiny drip Liam might have provided had he stepped up like he should have. If she’s sad, it’ll be fleeting. She’ll be so secure in our home and the knowledge that she has two parents who’ve wanted her since the day they knew she existed.”

My eyelids lowered as I soaked in what he was saying. “You…?”

“I didn’t know my desire to take care of you meant I would love the baby inside you too, but it did. And when she moved under my hands, my entire world changed. No matter what happens with Liam, I’m here. I’m your pillar. Be confident you can lean on me because I will never let either of you down.”

He said this with such confidence I absorbed some of it. When the time came to have a tough conversation with Joey, I believed he’d be by my side.

I puffed out a breath, deciding to take action so I didn’t feel so helpless.

“I’m going to call Liam instead of sitting here wondering.”

I dialed his number and put my phone on speaker. We didn’t do secret phone calls in this house.

But it was no use since he didn’t pick up. Even worse, he sent me to voice mail. Minutes later, I had my answer anyway.

Liam: I’m sorry, Kit, but I can’t do this. You’re in good hands with Levy. I can tell he wants to take care of you and the baby so let’s let him. It’ll be better for everyone. Good luck in the future.

“Oh, fuck you,” I whispered. But contrary to my vicious curse, my eyes immediately filled with burning tears. I did not want to cry over fudging Liam.

Elliot took my face in his hands, wiping my stray tears with his thumbs. “Sweetheart…”

“I’m not sad over this guy.” I waved my phone around then tossed it down beside me. Joey squealed at the flying phone, so I held her against my shoulder and kissed the top of her head. She resumed blowing raspberries and tangling her wet fist in my hair.

My eyes lifted to Elliot’s, and for one fleeting moment, heaviness hung between us, then Joey made a giant raspberry and yanked the hell out of my hair, and it was gone, replaced with laughter.

We laughed with relief that we got to keep Joey all to ourselves.

Amusement at the messy baby we were both crazy over.

A little bit of sadness that Liam was such a massive letdown.

But mostly, we laughed because this was our life, and it was so incredibly, stupidly beautiful.