27. Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Harvey
The next day, I’m in the shower, my hands press against the cold white bathroom tiles in my ensuite, the scalding hot water pounding hard on my back. I can’t shake the vision of her… vulnerable and wounded… standing in front of me. It’s so hard to see her not be the confident woman I know her to be. I need to figure out how to bring out that confident, feisty Jemima when her clothes are off and it’s just us. The sadness in her eyes terrifies me.
Now that she’s letting me in, I want more… so much more. But I can’t just ask her on a date or have her stay over at mine or vice versa. This is a hard situation, and I’ve never had to navigate something like this before.
As I get dressed it sparks the memory of her hands gliding through and tugging it, with a twinkle in her eye, an idea comes to me.
We’re interviewing potential hires today, and as I drive to work, my father calls to check in. I give him a brief rundown and ask if he and Mom can meet me at the building I’m considering for the firm. His detailed eye is something I’ve always valued.
After hanging up, I send Esme an email to schedule the walk-through and call my realtor for an update on the negotiations. When I pull up to the office, I see that Jemima and Molly are already here.
I walk into the building wearing a stupid grin on my face, feeling high… Not like Danny’s usual high, but a genuine contentment with my life.
When I smile at Molly, she gives me an unusually wide grin. I frown, but shake off the weird encounter, focusing on seeing my new favorite person. Without knocking, I walk into her office and kiss her. “Good morning,” I say, pulling back.
Her eyes widen, and for the first time, she’s at a loss for words. “What are you doing?”
I lean, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Taking what's mine.”
Her breath hitches, but her expression softens. She doesn’t hate the idea.
Something has shifted between us.
“I’ll meet you to discuss the interviews before the first candidate arrives. I need to check my emails,” I say, leaving her office, and swallowing a laugh at her priceless reaction.
Settling into my chair, I work until it’s almost time for the first interview. Wanting to make sure she’s okay and we’re prepared, I print out some questions for her as a guide. Entering her office, I sit in one of the chairs in front of her. “Disappointed?” I ask.
“No, just surprised.”
“I told you. I don’t want to be a dirty little secret, and I meant it.”
It’s not like she hasn’t already told Molly. What details, I don’t know, and I don’t care.
“Let’s talk about this later.” She’s trying to keep to business right now or isn’t ready to process what happened last night with me.
“Good idea. Let’s have lunch after the interviews. We can discuss the candidates and talk about us.”
She doesn’t flinch as she agrees, “Okay.”
“Let’s go through the questions you’ve prepared. I have some you might want to add.”
“Won’t you be there?” she asks, frowning.
“Yes, but this is your company. I’ll sit back and let you do the talking. I’ll be there if you need me.”
She scratches at her temple and looks over her questions. “There are obvious ones, like asking about previous experiences and why they want to work here. But I also thought about asking them to describe a time when they created an event from scratch. How they approached it and developed the concept.”
I nod, impressed. “Ask them about the budget too. Whether they tracked the expenses and if they ever went over budget.”
Humming her agreement, she writes this down on a notepad.
“I also have questions about how they handled issues with events.”
“Good idea. You need them to be independent, to handle things on their own while you stay in the managerial role.”
“Unrealistic clients and how to talk to them.”
“Ask for examples. If they don’t have any, that's a problem.”
She makes another note. “What’s the biggest team they’ve managed, and how did they handle it? Any new marketing tools they’ve wanted to try or have tried successfully?”
I whistle. “You're really good at this.”
“You doubted me?” she bites out, with a teasing glint in her eyes.
“Never.” I smirk.
“One thing you should ask is how they handle feedback. Clients will give it, but you need to make sure they’re willing to listen to it, bring it to you, and offer solutions.”
She points her pen at me. “Good idea.”
Just as she finishes writing, her desk phone rings. Molly informs me that the first interviewee is in the meeting room. We rise, and as she rounds her desk, I stand in her way.
“You’ve got this. Don’t use your heart. This is all about your head.”
“This is business,” she agrees.
“Exactly. Now let's find us some colleagues.”
It’s strange how the word “us” rolls off my tongue with such ease, but soon I won’t be here. There won’t be an “us.” I try to ignore the way my stomach bottoms out and follow her to the room.
The interviews go smoothly and end on time. I sit back, letting her take the lead, never needing to speak a word. She’s intelligent, capable, and knows exactly what she’s doing. Leaning back and watching her in action, I’m in awe. She may not have envisioned this as her job, but now that she’s here, I can see she was born to lead. She cares about people but won’t take shit and that combination is perfect.
After the last interviewee leaves, I walk over to her and spin her around, holding her waist. “You were incredible.”
She looks down, then back up, her shy expression one I’ve never seen before. It’s adorable. “Thanks, but they made it easy.”
“They were great, and you made them open up. You’re going to have a hard time narrowing it down.”
“Were there any you think I shouldn't take to the next round?” she asks as her eyes drop to her notes.
I grab her files to carry them for her.
“Maybe the second to last one. Some of their stories weren’t as strong. You want people who’ve faced major problems and fixed them.”
She hums thoughtfully, nibbling the end of her pen as she reads her notes.
“Let’s go grab some lunch and we can chat more,” I suggest, knowing we both need a break.
“Good idea,” she agrees, looking up at me with a small smile.
“No Molly. Just us two.” I wink.
She hesitates, and her brow furrows slightly. “I feel bad,” she whispers.
“We can bring her something back.” I try to make her feel better, not wanting her to feel guilty.
“If we bring her a bagel with cream cheese and a coffee, I think she’ll get over it.” The tension eases from her shoulders as she chuckles.
“Deal. I’ll meet you out front. I have to make a quick call,” I tell her, a small grin tugging at my lips.
As she walks off to her office, I book a reservation for us at a unique spot called Spin.