If I Only Knew Read online

  Without another word, Milo walks out the door.

  His words bounce around in my head, and my hopes of him quitting are gone. He’s not going anywhere, and I’m going to need to up my game.

  Chapter Eight

  Milo

  Stubbornness is a trait I wish I didn’t possess, as I’m sure Mum would agree. Trouble finds me because I refuse to give in. There’s no quitting in my world. I fight. I conquer. I take no bloody prisoners.

  At least until I lose interest.

  I could do Danielle’s job with my eyes closed. Even without knowing American real estate the way she does. Instead, I’m stuck doing the most ridiculous tasks and waiting for my opportunity to pounce.

  I would quit, but that would be exactly what they want.

  Instead, I’m driving to Danielle’s house because she forgot a file at the office.

  A fucking file.

  One she probably doesn’t even need since she’s not working on this deal, but as her assistant, it is my duty to assist.

  Idiot brother of mine.

  The GPS tells me to stop here and I stare at the home that matches the address she gave me. It’s a nice neighbourhood, I guess. Not exactly like the trendy area I’m staying in, but she was married so I can see the appeal.

  I grab the file and walk toward the door. The weeds are overgrown in the garden, and the yard is atrocious. I remember then that her husband was killed, and see my Mum for a moment.

  Danielle, however, is not my sweet, loving Mum. She’s the woman who stole my job.

  As I lift my hand to knock on the door, it swings open.

  “Well, hello there.” The smaller version of Danielle says. “And who might you be?”

  She runs her tongue along the bottom of her lip and I swear she’s coming onto me. “I’m Milo,” I say hesitantly. “You are?”

  “I’m Ava.” Her eyes roam my body.

  “Yes, well, I’m here to drop off something for your mother, I presume?”

  I don’t know if Danielle has kids or how many. I don’t really care to ask. The more I know, the more I’ll probably feel bad when I destroy her and take back what’s rightfully mine. Or I could not be a fool and get all the information possible in case I can use it later.

  Such a tricky situation this is.

  “Yup.” She grins. “Are you my new daddy?”

  “Are you mad?”

  “Does that mean crazy about you?”

  Jesus. Danielle has her hands full. “No, it means just crazy. Is your mother home?”

  She shakes her head. “Nope. It’s just us.”

  Wonderful, I think to myself.

  “I love your accent,” Ava says stepping forward.

  Dear Lord, this girl is positively mad. “Would you give this to her?”

  “Want to come in? You can wait here, we could . . . talk.”

  “Yes, because that sounds like a fab idea,” I roll my eyes. “You’re quite the little trouble maker, aren’t you?”

  Ava shrugs, moving closer again while I step back. This is not going well. All I need is her mother to think I’m coming onto her child.

  “I have daddy issues,” she says.

  I jerk back at her comment. What a strange thing to say. Then again, she has lost her father, which would make sense as to why she’s acting out.

  And then I see it. She’s me.

  “How old are you, Ava?”

  “Sixteen.”

  Her father died at the same age mine did. I was so angry at the world when I lost him. The cow who drank too much and got behind the wheel. She stole someone I loved and I wanted everyone to pay for it.

  It seems Ava is dealing with the same.

  Daddy issues indeed.

  And Danielle has no idea what else might be in store.

  “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you,” I say as I take a step back.

  “Don’t go,” she says quickly. “My mother . . . she’ll want you to stay. You know how she is. Hates leaving me all by myself. I’m sure she’d be fine with her very good-looking assistant watching me until she gets back.”

  I’m many things but a fool is not one.

  “You’re a minor,” I remind her. “And while I appreciate the compliment, there’s no way I would ever take you up on that. You’re a beautiful little girl, but I’m a grown man.”

  “I’m not a little girl! You don’t even know me.”

  That’s where she’s wrong. “I know more than you think. You lost your father, and you’re trying so hard to figure out how not to feel all your anger. Am I getting warmer?”

  She’s trying to come up with a retort but falls short. “Whatever.”

  Despite her attitude, I can see in her eyes that I struck a nerve. “Take it from me, you should be careful who you say things like that to,” I tell her. “I may be a gentleman, but another man might not be.”

  “Thanks for the unwanted advice.”

  As much as I hate to admit it, I kind of like her. She reminds me so much of myself I can’t help but think she’s fantastic . . . since I am and all.

  “You’re quite welcome.” I smile as if she actually meant it and wasn’t being a sarcastic prick.

  A car turns into the drive and Danielle emerges, opens the back door, and helps a younger child out.

  She approaches with a disapproving look. “Ava, you know you’re not supposed to open the door.”

  Ava shakes her head, accompanied by an eye roll. “He was hot and I wanted to meet your new boyfriend.”

  “Boyfriend?” the boy asks.

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Danielle tells him. “He works for Mommy.”

  The small boy walks over with his hand extended. “I’m Parker Bergen.”

  “Milo Huxley,” I say as I give him a nice strong shake. “Quite a grip you have there, Parker.”

  “Dad said a man is measured by his handshake,” he tells me.

  I smile. “Your dad was right.”

  I fight back the feelings that start to make their way up around my heart. I will not care that she’s a widow with two kids. My job was taken by her, which means she’s enemy number one. First rule of war is not to have any empathy for the other side.

  “Go inside, Parker. I’m going to talk to Milo for a minute about boring work things.”

  He nods. “Nice to meet you. I like your accent. It’s like Thor’s!”

  I laugh. “Thor wishes he was as bloody cool as I am. I’m more Loki than Thor anyway.”

  “So, you’re a bad guy?” he asks.

  I decide that yes, I’m most definitely the villain that you can’t help but love. I tell Parker, “I think Loki is misunderstood and has a do-good brother that makes him crazy, don’t you agree?”

  Parker purses his lips as he ponders what I said. “I think Loki makes bad choices.”

  He would be right again, but since I’m drawing parallels to my own sibling’s life, I feel the need to defend him. “But if Odin didn’t have favorites, Loki wouldn’t need to prove his worth.”

  “Well, maybe if Loki didn’t do bad things, he could be the hero,” Parker disagrees.

  “How old are you?”

  He smiles. “Six.”

  Why am I arguing with a child?

  “Talk to me when you’re nine.”

  He laughs.

  “All right then, that’s enough super hero analysis,” Danielle says as she puts her hand on the lad’s shoulder.

  Parker looks up with sad eyes and then sighs. “Okay, Mom.”

  “Go on inside now,” she reminds him.

  “Bye, Milo!”

  “Bye, Parker.”

  “Sorry about him. He’s really into superheroes and watches them non-stop, reads the comics, and it’s just . . . his whole life. Plus, the kid is a damn genius, so when he finds something, he fixates. Three years ago, it was trains. I swear I knew more about engines and all the different models than I could’ve ever wanted to know, but Parker loved them. So, he’d spend hours educating me and
Peter on all the working parts. It was impressive . . . annnd I have no idea why I’m rambling on like this.”

  Because she’s falling apart at the seams. “I’m a superhero buff myself. It was nice to meet another person that can keep up. Even more impressive that he’s just a young boy.”

  “Anyway, thanks for dropping this off,” she says. “I appreciate it.”

  I didn’t have much of a choice, did I? “I’m here to make your job easier,” I reply.

  “Sure you are,” she laughs.

  “Have I been less than helpful?” I question.

  She sighs. “Let’s not play games, Milo. You’re not happy about being my assistant, just the same as I really didn’t want you to be. As you can see, my hands are full, and I would rather us both lay our cards on the table and be real with each other. I don’t have the time or inclination to lie to you.”

  Interesting. Time to test that theory.

  “If I asked whether or not you planned to step down, you’d say?”

  “Not on your life.”

  I grin. She’s feisty and I like it.

  “Understood,” I reply.

  “I need to get inside,” she explains. “Thanks again for dropping off the file.”

  I dip my head and wait for her to go inside. I am a gentleman after all.

  I get in my car, then sit there pondering when to make my next move.

  Women like Danielle are my weakness. I love when there are no games or ulterior motives. Honesty is the best policy and all. It’s going to be sad when she finds herself as my assistant in a few months, because if she doesn’t step down, I’m going to have to take her out.

  Chapter Nine

  Danielle

  Today is a day I wish I could ignore. My mind is scattered, I can’t focus, and each time I close my eyes, I see Peter’s face.

  Not the smiling one in the picture that sits on my desk.

  Not the man who that morning was laughing and tossing kisses my way.

  Instead, I see him as he was at the morgue. Cold, unmoving, and gone.

  “Are you hearing a word I’m saying?” Milo asks, snapping his fingers.

  “What?”

  “Clearly not,” he huffs.

  “Sorry, I’m . . . my mind is elsewhere.”

  Like on the trial that I’m supposed to be at in an hour. I’m not technically supposed to be here. Callum instructed me to take the week off and focus on the kids, work from home, but I sat there, staring at the wall, and cried.

  I made him promise not to tell Nicole it was starting. I don’t want to hear shit from my friends. They have no clue what this feels like. The helplessness that’s eating me alive. I don’t want to hear the testimony. I don’t want to see his face and watch him draw air when Peter isn’t.

  “Very professional,” Milo mutters. “Were we going to work today or would you prefer to stop now?”

  Fuck him.

  “I’m doing my best!” I snap. “I’m here, which is more than I can say about you the last year or so.” I get to my feet, perhaps a bit angrier at him than the situation calls for. “I’m your boss, remember that. You don’t get to be an asshole to me!”

  Milo stands with his hands out in front of him. “Okay? I was being sarcastic. But since you brought it up, I was trying to piece my damn life together. My brother ripped the company I helped build from my hands, moved across the ocean—for a girl I might add—and didn’t bother to consider me at all. So, yes, you’re my boss now. How is that for doing your best?”

  My heart is racing and I feel as though I’m being ripped in half. All this time I’ve been holding myself together and right now, I don’t think I can anymore. I’m battling wars everywhere and winning none.

  This isn’t about him. It’s about me and how he thinks he can just steamroll over me. It’s about how none of this should even be my problem.

  “So that entitles you to be a dick?” I scream.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m failing to see how calling you professional is being a dick.”

  “Because you didn’t mean it!” I continue to yell as Milo stands there with his arms crossed. “You think I’m stupid, huh? Do you think I don’t see that you want to destroy me? Well, guess what? I’m already at the bottom so the only way is up.”

  “Are you on drugs?” Milo asks in his thick accent. “Maybe you should take them if you’re not.” He laughs. “I have no idea what you’re so upset about.”

  “Everything! You! You being here! My lunatic teenage daughter who is making my life a living hell! And this whole situation—your brother wants to teach you a lesson, and I’m stuck dealing with it.” I look in Milo’s deep green eyes, furious that this has gone so wrong. “None of this was how it was supposed to go. My life was perfect.” I say as my lip begins to tremble. “I should be at home, raising my kids with my husband!”

  When I say the last word, a sob rips from my chest and I begin to cry.

  Although, it’s not that silent tear kind of cry. It’s the loud, obnoxious, snot streaming kind of cry.

  Milo’s arms wrap around me and he holds me to his chest. I grip his lapels and clench, losing control.

  “I can’t!” I shake, but Milo tightens his hold. “I can’t go today. I’m not strong enough.”

  “Today?” he asks.

  “The trial,” I barely get out before the next round of hysteria breaks free.

  Milo guides me to the couch and sits me down, and then presses my head to his chest. I don’t think, I take the comfort he offers. I’m too broken to care who is helping. I’m too far out in the sea of grief to swim back to shore.

  I lost everything and now I have to feel it all over again.

  I want to kill that man myself.

  I want his family to know the agony he inflicted on mine.

  I want Peter to walk through the door again, but I know that will never, ever happen.

  I rub my face against Milo’s chest and the scent of his woodsy cologne fills me. Then it hits me. I’m . . . sobbing . . . on Milo.

  My assistant who wants my job.

  The pain in my ass who’s planning to get me kicked out of this office.

  “Oh God!” I lift my head, covering my face with my hands. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Not another word,” he commands. “Is your husband’s trial today?”

  I nod, a new wave of embarrassment hitting me. “Look, I don’t know what just happened. I lost it.” I wipe under my eyes and release a heavy breath.

  “You’ve been holding that in a while, I presume?”

  “I guess so.”

  Milo nods slowly. “I had the best assistant when we were in London. She was smart, funny, put me in my place on more than one occasion. She was there when my dog died, and she was of great comfort. Anyway, her job was so much more than just assisting me in work.”

  I look to him, wondering what the hell he’s talking about. “Not sure where you’re going with this . . .”

  “I’m not either,” he admits.

  “Glad we cleared that up,” I say attempting to joke.

  Milo doesn’t laugh though. “My point is . . . that while I’m stuck in this position, I’m here to help.”

  “Help?”

  “Yes.”

  I study him warily. “Help how?”

  He huffs. “I don’t know, but I’m trying to be nice.”

  And he is being nice. “I appreciate that,” I say.

  “Are you better now?” Milo’s emerald eyes watch me as though I’m a wounded animal. Which, maybe I am. Peter’s death had me at extremes. I was either a broken dove who couldn’t fly or I was a tiger, ripping people’s throats out. I’ve not found the middle, and it’s wearing on me.

  “I think I’m going to be.” I place my hand on his arm. “Thank you.”

  “Happy to help.”

  “You know, you make a great assistant,” I tease.

  I wait for the indignation and disgust, but instead, he looks at me with a mix of awe and wonder
. Something, I don’t know what, is different right now. He seems a little kinder, non-threatening, which is a bad thing. It’s scary to be honest.

  “Why are you here today?” A deep voice breaks the moment.

  “Callum,” I say, getting to my feet.

  He looks at Milo and then me with a wry smile. “You’re off for the day, Danielle. I implicitly told you to be with your family. It’s where you need to be.”

  “You didn’t tell Nicole, right?”

  “No, I hoped you would by now.” He sighs, placing his hands in his pockets. “I realize this is a bizarre situation, but she loves you and wants to be there for you.”

  “I know, but I’m not ready.”

  Callum’s eyes fill with empathy. “I understand, just know we’re all here to help.”

  Milo clears his throat. “I hate to break up the party, but someone should do some work in this place.”

  “Are you implying Danielle doesn’t?” Callum challenges him.

  I wait, my heart pounding in my chest. Here’s a chance for Milo to sell me out or tell him about the screw up I had with the survey. His eyes meet mine and then move back to his brother.

  “No,” Milo says with conviction. “You found a great replacement for me, brother.”

  Callum’s eyes blink in surprise. “Well, that was very grown up of you.”

  I see Milo’s hand open and close, but he doesn’t reply.

  Now it’s my turn to do for him what he did for me. “You know, Callum, Milo has been a real asset.” I turn to look at him with a smile. “He found an error on the survey, fixed it, and it saved the company a bit of money we’d have lost had it gone through.”

  Callum shakes his head and pushes off the doorframe. “So, he did his job? Great news. I guess there’s a first for everything.”

  I want to defend him, but Milo grips my wrist. “It’s fine, he made up his mind about me a long time ago.”

  “Some patterns are hard to break,” Callum rebukes and then walks out the door.

  I think back to the conversation he had with Parker about superheroes and brothers.

  “Maybe you’re more like Thor than you think,” I say as he turns.

  “Don’t paint me as the hero.”