“You just what?”
She gave him a tiny smile. “The more I work, the less I seem to enjoy it. That’s all. I guess I’ve been avoiding Kat. Talking with her just feels like too much pressure.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to offer her money or work or whatever would take that miserable look off her face. But Gretchen wouldn’t want a handout. She was strong and capable. He’d have to handle this carefully.
His fingers touched under her chin and he tilted her face toward him. “We’ll fix this,” he told her in a firm voice. “Give me your laptop. I’ll send it off with Eldon.”
“O-okay,” she said in a wavery voice that made him ache with the need to comfort her.
He took it from her and then leaned into kiss her lightly. “I’m going to send this off with him and instruct the technicians to not come back until they’ve recovered your files. But for the rest of the day, we’re going to relax and enjoy ourselves.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Oh, you can. And we’re not going to think about work. We’re just going to enjoy each other.”
She gave him a miserable look. “What if I have to start over, Hunter?”
He quelled the part of him that rejoiced at the thought of another month of her in his house. Her sadness was making his soul ache.
He’d asked Eldon to fix this, but he hadn’t anticipated the destruction of her computer. It was brilliant—and a bit evil. But the worst of it was that Gretchen somehow seemed . . . defeated. His brilliant, vibrant Gretchen had been replaced by a sad woman weighed down by the world.
And that wasn’t what he’d wanted at all.
Hunter caressed her cheek. “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll be here,” she told him with a wobbly smile, sniffing loudly.
He tucked the laptop under his arm, noting that it still dripped when he picked it up. It was definitely soaked. He didn’t know if it could be fixed. He hoped—for Gretchen’s sake—that it could. Either way, Eldon had bought him time with her, just as he’d asked.
Hunter headed back to his office and shut the door, then buzzed Eldon.
Eldon arrived a few minutes later, his eyebrows going up at the sight of the laptop dripping on Hunter’s coat.
Hunter held it out to Eldon. “Your work, I assume?”
He said nothing, simply took the laptop and gave him a meaningful look.
“She’s crying,” Hunter said raggedly. He began to pace. “I didn’t want her upset.”
“You said to fix it,” Eldon said, deadpan as ever. “You didn’t say how. You needed her work to continue to keep her here.” He gestured at the laptop. “I have ensured that, just as you asked.”
Yes, but now Hunter felt like a heartless bastard. The thought of Gretchen’s tearstained face still drove him wild with anger and self-loathing. He’d made her cry, and he couldn’t even apologize.
“Take the laptop to a technician. See if they can fix it.” He glanced at Eldon, and then hated himself for saying, “Not too soon, though.”
“I shall escort it in myself,” Eldon said in a toneless voice. “I am sure that no one will get to it for at least a week, no matter how much I ask.”
“Good.”
“And if the file can be recovered?”
He had to bite back the urge to tell Eldon to delete the file. His need for Gretchen warred with the sight of her tearstained face, her misery. “I . . . I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”
“Very well,” Eldon said as unflappable as ever.
“Cancel my meetings today. I’m going to spend the day with Gretchen.”
“Very well,” Eldon said. His face was neutral, but his tone was disapproving. It didn’t matter what Eldon thought, though.