He hadn’t seen or talked to Bailey in three days. The first day felt right…natural. Like she probably needed some time to adjust and help her father get settled in his new reality. Just because he knew what he wanted didn’t mean she was anywhere near the same page, let alone on it. The second, he found himself thinking about her often…every five minutes or so. But he told himself not to push it. She was still healing, both physically and emotionally. Only a complete moron would show up with flowers and ask her to dinner. Besides, he didn’t give his secretary flowers often enough. She was thrilled…if a little suspicious of some new work he might have in mind for her to do. But Day Three arrived and nothing from Bailey. Not even a text. So, when the perfect excuse to call her fell into his lap—or kicked down a stall, as luck would have it—he decided to act. He listened for any kind of movement—or OC’s bellowing voice, but the Jenkins’s house felt too quiet to disturb.
