He grunted.

Outside the living room window, the snow falling with the streetlight behind it looked like a scene from a movie. “This isn’t going to be gone by morning, is it?”

“Probably not.”

“At least tomorrow is Friday. I’ll only have one round-trip into the city.”

“You mean to drive to work tomorrow?”

“It’s a new job. It’s not like I can call in for a snow day.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that. You can take the train.”

She cringed. “No, no.” Yet even as she said those words, she knew it was only a matter of time before she had to overcome the anxiety around public transportation. “I’ll leave early.”

Jason looked as if he wanted to say something, glanced at Owen, and changed his mind.

“The trains are safe. Trust me, I’ve lived here all my life.”

“I’ve been told.” She sipped her coffee. “I’m just . . . not . . .”

“She’s paranoid of being mugged,” Owen announced.

Rachel sighed.

“Really?” Jason asked.

“There aren’t a lot of trains in California.”

“Do you take the bus?”

“God, no.”

“Germs and mugging,” Owen chimed in.

Jason glanced around the space. “Germ phobic?”

“No!” she said, as if that was ridiculous.

Owen opened his mouth again, and she cut him off. “Drinking out of a water bottle instead of a drinking fountain is just smart. It doesn’t count as a phobia.”

“Do you fly?”

She blinked, happy to finally say yes to something. “Sometimes.”

“Twice.” Owen kept announcing her secrets.

Jason stared at her as if she’d grown a horn on her head.

“It’s a control thing.” Owen kept talking.

“It is not,” she denied.

“I told her she needed to get over it before I get my driver’s permit.”

She glared. “Don’t you have homework?”

“I know someone who used to be afraid of flying,” Jason said. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

“I’m not afraid of flying.” She glared at Owen. “I just like to drive myself,” she said with a straight face.

Lights flashed through the window as someone pulled into the driveway.

Jason stood. “That would be my ride.”

Rachel walked him the short distance to the door.

He took a moment to put on his long coat. “Nice meeting you, Owen.”

She opened the door and walked him onto her porch, slid the door almost closed behind her. “Thanks for understanding him.”

“He’s being protective. Gotta give the kid points for that.”

“The man of the house collides with a teenage attitude daily.”

Jason smiled.

Rachel shivered.

He reached out his hand. “Thank you for braving a stranger in the storm.”

His hands were warm, despite the cold. “You’re welcome. Good luck with your car.”

Jason hesitated, then turned and walked away.

Chapter Three

Rachel allowed herself an extra hour to get to work, and she was still late.

She skirted past the smaller cubbies and around the corner to her less tiny workspace. Julie popped her head up, looked around as if to see if anyone else noticed Rachel’s lateness, and then started laughing.

“What?” Rachel tucked her purse inside her desk and pulled her coat from her shoulders.

“The look on your face is priceless.”

“You mean the I’m late and don’t want my supervisor to notice look?”

“Yep, that one.”

“Too late.” The male voice behind her made her cringe.

Rachel squared her shoulders and turned to face her boss. “I’m sorry, Gerald. I thought I gave myself enough time—”

Gerald looked past her and toward Julie. “You owe me ten bucks.”

Julie pulled out her purse as she laughed.

Both of them were smiling.

Julie reached past Rachel and handed Gerald a ten.

“What’s that about?”

Gerald waved the bill in the air. “Julie didn’t think you’d make it here until nine, I had faith you’d make it before eight thirty.”

“You were betting on me?”

“I’m kinda shocked you made it in at all,” Julie confessed.

The tension in Rachel’s shoulders started to ease. “The streets by my house were a mess.” Luckily, the snow in the city streets had been pushed to the side.

Gerald waved a hand toward the high-rise window. “Most of this will melt before tomorrow.”

“That’s good.”

“Do we have the Google proposal ready for Monday’s meeting?”

Rachel and Julie both said yes at the same time. “Just fine-tuning the PowerPoint.”

Gerald turned and started walking into his office. “Rachel, I need a minute.”

Just when she thought she was off the hook for showing up late.

She glanced at Julie, who offered a shrug of her shoulders.

In his midsixties, Gerald was one of the longest lasting company employees and a close personal friend of the owners.

“I’m really sorry I’m late,” Rachel started.

“I know you are. Please sit.”

She clenched her hands together and sat on the edge of the chair opposite his desk.

“Winters in New York can be brutal.”

“I’ve been told.”

“And driving into the city is a colossal waste of time.”

“I’ve heard that, too.”

Gerald lifted his eyes to hers. “When we offered this position, we knew you were coming in from California and sweetened the deal with six months of city parking. More than enough time for you to come to the conclusion that driving in is something you may want to reconsider.”

She felt an intervention coming on. “If I need to leave home at four in the morning to get here, I will.”

“And what happens if Owen needs you at home and it takes you three hours to get there?”

She blinked a few times.

“I like you, Rachel. You bring a freshness to marketing we haven’t seen in a while. You have the ability to pinpoint issues before they become problems. You’re a leader, and quite honestly, I think you’ll fit right in with the management team before your first year with us is up.”

That had been the goal since she moved. “I’d like that.”

“If you opt out of the city parking, we will give the allowance in a cash sum that will pay for a monthly train pass and parking at the train station you’ll need to drive to for over a year.”

Rachel opened her mouth to respond, only to have Gerald cut her off.

“Not to mention toll fees and gas.”

The denial of need sat on her lips.

She swallowed it.

“I’ll consider the offer.”

“Good. Your first nor’easter is just around the corner, and that snow takes weeks to melt, trash piles up . . . it’s not pretty. You haven’t lived until it takes you two hours to drive four miles in this city.”

She didn’t think that was possible.

One look at Gerald and she knew he wasn’t bluffing.

“Now go fine-tune your PowerPoint.”

“Owen?” Rachel walked into the house, tossing her car keys in a bowl by the front door and shedding her coat to keep the drops of water that fell off of it from trailing all over the house.