“Don’t play coy. I’ve never seen him so comfortable with an assistant.”

Any morsel of politeness I had in me swiftly fled as I gave her a sardonic look. “Ah, well, that means we must be banging, then.”

“So you are sleeping together?”

“Oh, my God, that was sarcasm. But if you need me to spell it out for you, here it is: No, we’re not sleeping together.”

She snorted like she didn’t believe me, but I saw a flicker of pain in her eyes that told a thousand words.

“You still love him, don’t you?”

Her face hardened as she swallowed what appeared to be a lump in her throat. God, I was right. Sometimes I hated it when I was right. Gentling my voice, I took a step forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Take it from someone who’s been in many hopeless relationships. Move on. If he can’t see what’s good for him, then he’s not worth it. Find someone who is.” I paused, and Mila stared up at me, as though my kindness was the last thing she’d expected. “Vincent seems nice.”

A long breath escaped her, and her entire body seemed to sag. “He is nice.”

“You see? Mr King is a fool not to see what’s right in front of him. Unfortunately, fools can never be taught. They have to learn on their own.”

Absorbing my words, she nodded and sounded sincere when she said, “You’re right. I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”

I smiled. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Water off a duck’s back.”

She moved away and put her lip gloss back in her handbag. I was about to leave when she looked at me seriously through the mirror. “He pulls you in, you know. You start off thinking the ball is in your court, but it never is. Before you know it, you’ve fallen for him, and it’s too late to go back to the way things were.”

Absorbing her words, I couldn’t quite tell if this was a warning or if she was just thinking out loud. Nevertheless, I gave her a sober nod. Leaving Mila in the ladies’ bathroom, I made my way back to King’s office, intent on having a serious word with him about his ex. However, as I reached his office door I paused, because a strange-looking woman was just leaving. She was probably in her fifties, had dyed red hair, and clothes that reminded me of a gypsy.

“Oh, hi,” I said, stepping back to let her go by.

She only gave me an ambiguous smile before continuing on her way. “Odd” didn’t begin to cover it. I’d never seen a woman who looked like her around here before. Shaking off the strangeness, I remained full of determination to confront King about Mila. That was until I walked into the room and saw him sitting on the sofa by the window, an open bottle of Macallan in front of him. He poured some into a glass, knocked it back in one go, and then repeated the process. Everything I’d planned on saying immediately fled my mind as concern took its place. I’d seen him drink at work before, but not like this. The bottle was more than half empty, and I knew it had been full when I’d seen it in the cabinet that morning.

Piano music was playing, something classical, but it was low enough that you wouldn’t be able to hear it outside the office. I recognised it as the same piece he’d played when I’d visited his apartment. Memories of that night entered my mind, how absorbed he’d been, completely unaware of my presence, and how beautiful his music had sounded to my ears. Quietly, I sat on the other side of the couch and eyed him. He didn’t look at me, just focused on the drink in his glass.

“Has something happened?” I asked tentatively.

King glanced at me, then shook his head.

“Then why are you drinking?”

He arched a brow. “Because I can.”

There was something in his expression that made me think I shouldn’t push the matter. Still, I couldn’t help asking, “Who was that woman I just saw leaving?”

There was a long silence before he spoke. “Just a relative asking after Mum.”

Clearly, he had no intention of telling me any more details and didn’t seem in the mood to talk. I stood and turned to leave. Before I could do so, King grabbed my wrist.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded, those eyes holding me captive.

I sat back down. We exchanged a meaningful look before he spoke again. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit off today. I’m just worried about Mum.”

Reaching out, I placed a hand on his. “That’s understandable. Maybe you should take the day. Go be with her. Is she still at the hospital?”

King nodded, and then cast his eyes to mine; his seemed…desperate. “Would you do it? She enjoys your company.” He stopped, ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up. “I’m just not in the right frame of mind to see her at the moment.”

I stared at him, this man who at first had seemed so put together and in control. When I looked at him now, he appeared vulnerable. It showed just how much he cared for his mother. I guessed that maybe she was the only family he had. He had definitely never mentioned a father or any brothers or sisters.

I was so lost in studying him that I almost didn’t notice when his hand went to my knee. I looked down, then back up to his eyes, which seemed to be begging me for comfort. God, how those eyes made me weak. They made me want to give him anything he might think to ask for.

“King,” I said, a quiet warning.

He didn’t breathe a word, just squeezed my knee and leaned in closer. His hand started to move up my thigh, slow and torturous. Every tiny hair on my body stood on end as I inhaled his fresh cologne mixed with the sharp tang of whiskey. It was an intoxicating mixture, and I had no words. No funny lines or sarcastic comments to defuse the situation.