“I was thinking about that,” Az told him honestly. “Earlier,” she stroked her fingers of one hand over the line of his jaw almost absently. “That it’s not absolutely necessary for me to work quite as many hours as I do,” because, really, she was a bit of a workaholic.
Not simply for any self satisfaction with her career, although she did enjoy it, but because of the dual pronged reason of family. Her family, what little there was of it, was one of workaholics, devoted to their careers above all else. And that her aunt was her only superior and more than a little difficult to please, had only had Adelia Forster striving that much harder for approval and to show that she too was a dedicated and smart business woman.
“I would like, love more time with you. More time just the two of us without needing to rush or sneak time in between things.” It was one of a surprising handful of things she had learned or gained here, that time was not simply going to wait for them all, and it should be grabbed where they could.
His honest words, for it nearly seemed to physically pain him to lie, were enough to soothe her nerves over the subject for at least a little while. Enough so that she was able to joke lightly, “What if they decide that I am some sort of cradle robber, out for a younger man?” Az was all of two years older than him, and on occasion liked to tease him about the fact. Knowing it had nothing to do with the nature of their relationship all the while.