Chapter 3
Alice leaned into her desk and squinted at the computer screen. Something was not right on her boss’s expense report. Roger spent two hundred dollars on lunch? Then again, DC prices.
Patty knocked on her door frame. “Still can’t believe Roger made us come in today.”
“I can.” The man was a drill sergeant. And a prick, something she’d voice to him at the appropriate time.
Patty perched herself on the corner of Alice’s desk. “What’s with the jumper cables?” She pointed at the things taking up far too much space.
“Harrison from marketing returned them. Finally bought his own, which is good because I’m tired of giving him a jump.” Tired of car issues altogether.
She discovered that morning hers must have been towed from its spot overnight. She’d go back at lunchtime to retrieve it from the lot. At least DC had a phone number on the signs calling the street a Snow Emergency Route.
Also on the day’s docket was not dwelling on the cascade of unfortunate events of last night. Or thinking about how she’d spectacularly broken her resolution to make better choices hours into it.
She’d woken up that morning on a stranger’s couch under a tartan blanket with a pounding headache. It took a solid minute to remember how the hell she’d gotten there. Far less time to hightail it out once she remembered the Kiss a Ginger guy. Theodore. He at least had plugged her phone into a charger near the sofa where she’d passed out. And thank God she was able to get a cab, get home, and get changed for work. It was a miracle she was only an hour late to the office.
Alice pointed at her computer. “Hey, you ever been to the Palm?”
“The restaurant?” Patty fiddled with a pen, stuck it in her bun. “Yeah. Pompous and overpriced.”
Roger’s weekly expense report might be right, then.
Patty leaned down closer and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Did you get a load of the Jamie Fraser who walked in this morning?”
Patty had three categories for men when she was interested in them. Dark-haired men were Henry Cavills, blonds were Daniel Craigs— “the young one”—and redheads were naturally Sam Heughans. Patty was obsessed with the Jamie Fraser character, in particular. “The rarest unicorn of them all,” she’d sighed dramatically over margaritas one night at her most favorite rugby bar.
Alice spun her chair around. “Thought you were going to make babies with the Henry Cavill in the C-suite?” Jerry Maxwell, the vice president of the manufacturing division, was cute with great hair—and he knew it, given he couldn’t pass a mirror without pausing to admire himself.
“Not since I found out he still lives with his mother because he’s worried about their eighteen parrots. How they might miss him. Apparently, parrots bond with their humans. I’m betting this new Jamie doesn’t have parrots.” Her eyes grew distant. “He looks more like he’d have Scottish terriers.”
Patty’s imagination was vast—and resembled a romance novel.
Alice blew a stray strand of hair out of her face. “I made it a point to not see anyone this morning.” Thank God for dry shampoo, but second-day hair was always a static nightmare.
Patty pushed off the desk. “Well, how do I look? Good enough for the new Jamie?” She ran her hands down her pencil skirt, then adjusted her sparkly, blue-framed glasses.
“Very sexy librarian. He’d be lucky as sin to nail you behind the historical romance section.” She grabbed her portfolio and a pen. “Come on. Monday staff meeting starts in two.”
“Still can’t believe Roger’s making us do this today. I want the chair next to the back, the one with not-heinous lighting.”
When they entered the conference room, six other Edison Tech employees were seated around the large walnut table, including Tricia and Stephanie, who threw her yet another pitying glance. Great, they honestly thought she was heartbroken over Roger and not being chosen as Miss December. As far as she cared, Roger could have a woman for every month, national holiday, and even the made-up ones like National Bobblehead Day.
“Good morning, team. Glad to see you made it in, despite a few snowflakes,” Roger greeted as he rushed through the glass doors.
A few? Roger should hand out medals for those who showed up.
Clapping his hands together, he rubbed them as if kindling firewood and stood at the head of the table. “I realize it’s Friday, but it’s time to talk about this new year.”
“Let’s not,” Harrison mumbled as he scrambled to take the vacant chair next to Alice. On her other side was Patty, sitting under a half-dimmed ceiling light. Alice really needed to call maintenance about the bulb. It could go out anytime.
Roger beamed at everyone. He was entirely too happy that morning. Probably because he’d identified Miss January already. The way a petite blonde, new to the management team, gazed up at him, Alice would bet her life savings he had.
Roger leaned down, knuckles on the table. “A new year means new beginnings. I’m not going to beat around the bushel here. We’re starting with assessing the team. Edison hired a management firm to conduct a thorough evaluation of performance, redundancy, and inefficiencies.”
A visible groan filled the room, and Roger’s smile thinned. “Now, now. I know what you’re thinking. You are all valuable, and this is merely to ensure everyone is giving their best work, headed to their best future for themselves and this company.” He knocked on the table once.
Harrison leaned over. “He means protecting his future bonuses.”
Alice gave him a grimace in solidarity.
Roger clapped his hands together again. “We’re starting from the rump up.”
Alice stifled a laugh. No one else held back, though. Snickers filled the room. Roger was constantly mixing up words and getting metaphors wrong, like bushel versus bush and rump versus bottom.
“I know whose rump I’d like to start with,” Harrison whispered as he eyed Patty. He was fully bald in a sexy rock kind of way and quite handsome. But Patty had a real thing for hair.
Roger theatrically swept his arm toward the conference room door. “Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to Theodore Gaston.”
Blood pounded in Alice’s ears, her neck, her head. No way. The red-headed guy from last night’s surprise snowmageddon walked through the door in a charcoal gray suit and blue tie.
Patty sat up straighter. But if Alice could have faded into the upholstery of her chair, she’d have done it. A crushing flood of memories swamped her. She’d kissed the guy last night.
Roger held out a hand to Theodore to shake. “Good to see you again.” He turned to the staff. “Many of you met him last night, but given it was my birthday …”
Jesus, keep reminding us already.
“… I told him to stick to just getting to know you. No work talk.”
Theodore wrested his hand free, nodded once, then scanned the room. Alice did her level best to hide behind Patty, but because her friend was thin as a pencil, Theodore easily caught her gaze.
One side of his mouth lifted. The man was amused? A buzzing began in Alice’s low belly and snaked its way up her spine. So, that was what shame felt like.
She dipped her chin and assessed her manicure.
“Thank you, Mr. Rubenstein. Good day, Edison Tech,” he said in a far deeper voice than she recalled.
And Mr. Rubenstein? No one called Roger that.
A chorus of “Hi” and “Hello” sounded, mostly female. She risked a glance up. He still stared at her.
“As Mr. Rubenstein stated, I’m Theodore Gaston. And I want to start out by saying, I know I’m not your favorite person already.”
A few titters sounded.
Theodore began to walk around the conference table. “Mr. Rubenstein thought it best to keep everyone out of the loop until it was time.”
Oh, they’d been out of the loop all right. Though last night, she’d almost been very, very much in the loop—the nude one.
“I’m not here to make your life miserable.” He stopped and stared at her once more. “I’m here to make it better.”
A few of the sales guys visibly shifted, uncomfortable. They were always the first to get put on the chopping block.
Theodore resumed his walk. “Now, I’d like to set up appointments with each of you. A deeper, get-to-know-you meeting. Learn about your relevant and important skills. No preparation needed.”
Three hands went up. All female again. Shocker. Because Alice was woman enough to admit Theodore was a hottie with those bluer-than-blue eyes and a frame that could carry a woman around in the snow without breaking a sweat.
He didn’t look like he only got five hours of sleep and drank too much. Oh, crap. She did, didn’t she? She hadn’t even put on make-up that morning, thinking it’d be an ordinary day of her computer screen seeing more of her than anything or anyone else.
Why should she care what Theodore thought? Maybe because her entire future was at stake.
She’d heard rumors the higher-ups weren’t happy with how things were going. Sales were down. Marketing costs were up. She never thought they’d bring someone in to assess the entire staff, however. They should be assessing Roger. He was the one who dictated everything down to when the plants were watered.
Theodore pointed at Tricia, whose hand nearly touched the ceiling. “Yes, Miss …”
“Brown. Tricia Brown from HR.” The woman beamed at him. “It was good to meet you last night, Mr. Gaston. Given I work in HR, perhaps I could help you navigate the team?”
By how she eyed him, she’d like to navigate him all right. Straight into those very expensive-looking trousers.
“Please, call me Theodore.” He’d almost circled to her side of the table now. “We’re going to do the interviews randomly. I think starting with …”
He looked over to her, which sent highly inappropriate tingles down her body.
He moved to where she sat. “Miss Crawford? You’re in accounting, correct?”
“Correct. And it’s Alice.” She did not smile. “As you know.”
“Alice. I heard you had a bit of car trouble last night. Everything sorted?” he asked in that melodic British accent. His blue eyes sparkled. He was enjoying himself.
“Sorted,” she said sharply. In her periphery, she could see all eyes were on them.
“Good.”
Everyone’s phones pinged and vibrated in the room.
“Right on time,” he said. “Meeting requests should have landed in your inbox.”
Everyone, including Alice, lifted their phones to see a calendar request showing their time slot with Theodore. Chit-Chat with Theodore, it read. How very friendly—and ridiculous.
Alice quickly glanced around to gauge reactions. Tricia’s mouth twisted, clearly unhappy with her time slot.
Harrison waved his phone. “And if we have a conflict? Have to move it?”
Roger held up his hand. “There is no greater priority than this.”
Theodore had finally moved his body, his scent drifting away from her. He made his way to the head of the table. “No, no. If you have an emergency or really need to change your time, just let me know.”
Roger’s face fell, his eyes darkening a little. She recognized that look. Countering the guy who’s writing his management fee checks? Not very smart. Then again, catering to Roger’s ego hadn’t gotten her very far at Edison.
Theodore didn’t seem to notice he’d semi-insulted Roger. Just stood there in his beautifully cut suit, smiling, basking in the gaze of every person around the table. He enjoyed the attention. She didn’t recall him being arrogant last night. He was fun—and dishonest with her. Time to remind him he should tread carefully in case he got any notions of yielding power over her. What he’d done the night before had to have broken some ethical rules somewhere.
She cleared her throat and raised her hand.
Theodore pointed at her. “Oh, no need to do that. Ask away.”
“Mr. Gaston?—”
“Just Theodore is fine.”
The women gave each other sidelong glances, like secret messages being handed back and forth in seventh grade. Every single one of them was already into him. By the look of confidence on his face, he was quite comfortable with being admired.
Alice laid a hand delicately on her breastbone. “Don’t you mean Theodore Gaston the Fourth?”
Patty gasped a little. “Is he famous or something?” she whispered out of the side of her mouth. “Dibs on him.”
A lazy smile broke out on his face. “So my mum and dad say. You have a question?”
Alice laid her phone face down on the table. “I can’t make it at eleven.” Or ever.
“No problem. We’ll talk right after this meeting.”
God, she hated her life.
Roger beamed at her. “Excellent. Now, meeting adjourned. Have a …”
She didn’t hear the rest of his words. She was out of her chair like a shot and leaving the conference room from the back exit. She hightailed it to her office and closed the door.
Think. Think. Think.
She was a professional, and her job at Edison was important to her. She was pretty sure, however, straddling the new management consultant’s balls, as she’d done last night, wouldn’t be viewed as a relevant and important skill. If it were, she’d have fired herself.
A knock on her door sounded. She didn’t need to open the door to know it was him—the guy whose hands held her future.
A muffled male voice chuckled on the other side of the door. “Didn’t take you for someone who ran away.”
As if he knew anything about her. She yanked the door open. “You have some nerve …”
He advanced on her, and she had no choice but to retreat. He closed the door behind him.
No words came to her mind. It was because he was too close. He smelled good. Like he’d put on cologne, which was not something she normally thought about with men.
“About last night,” he said.
She crossed her arms. “It was highly unethical of you.”
“Me?”
“Luring me to your place. Kissing me.”
“It was Kiss a Ginger Day.” He dipped his chin, his tone as serious as if delivering critical news. “And for the record, you jumped me.”
She gasped, dropped her arms. “I did not.”
“Oh, yes, you did. Climbed right aboard.” He pointed to his crotch. “Straddled my goods. In fact, I feel incredibly used.” He batted his eyelashes up at the ceiling.
Crap. More fuzzy memories swam up to the surface where she was the one to launch herself at him last night. She wanted to smack that smirk off his face. She settled for slapping his pec. Oh, hard muscle. She quickly brought her hand back and clasped it to her belly. “I could get you fired.”
He chuckled. “Maybe. Then again, I did help you find your car.”
“Ah, but you didn’t help me push it out.” Jamie Frasier would have.
“And mess up my chances to spend more time with you? Not on your life.”
“You think you had a chance? Not on your life.” As if she’d be interested in him after hiding who he really was.
She circled to the safety of her desk, putting it between Theodore and herself. “You should have told me last night you were an Edison consultant.” In fact, Roger should have told her. Then again, when had he ever been upfront with her about anything.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t lie to you.”
“You didn’t tell the truth either.” A realization hit her. “You were spying last night.”
“I was an observer. You can tell a lot about how happy people are by watching their social interactions.” His gaze raked over her. “You were quite friendly.”
She pointed at him. “See? Unethical.” If he thought he could blackmail her because they’d had an interaction, he could shove a bobblehead up his ass.
“That’s not what I meant. I mean, you were friendly … before …” He scrubbed his hair. “Listen. I enjoyed getting to know you. Nothing ultimately happened, and?—”
“And that’s the way it’s staying.” She sharply nodded her chin. Period. End of statement. “We’re strictly business. I’m very serious about my job.”
He rocked back on his heels and peered down at her with those sparkly blue eyes. “Good.” He kept studying her.
“What?”
“You’re especially pretty when annoyed.”
Did he have any boundaries? “Go charm one of your admirers out there.” She waved her fingers toward her door and the hallway beyond.
“Admirers? I’ve been in the building for less than an hour. But I see what’s happening here.”
Nothing was happening here. “Oh, really?” A sudden roil went off in her stomach. She clutched her belly as if that would quell the queasy feeling.
“Playing hard to get.” He tapped a finger on his lips. “I like it. A woman like you should.”
“Theodore,” she said slowly, putting her palms together.
He leaned closer, bringing his woodsy scent closer to her. “Alice.”
She blinked. She forgot what she was going to say. It was because she was hungover and sleep-deprived; that was all.
“Did you get your car unstuck?” he asked. “I didn’t see it this morning on Porter.”
“You live on Ordway.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I checked on it.”
“Oh. That was nice of you. It’s been towed.” Which was yet another problem she would have to solve. “I’ll get it later.”
“You came to work instead? Dedicated.”
“And stupid.” She should have worked from home, avoided that little run-in altogether. But when had she ever taken a day off?
His face grew serious. “There’s nothing about you that’s stupid.”
“Oh?” She arched her eyebrows at him. “Last night? That was?—”
“Highlight of my life.”
She crossed her arms, refusing to be further charmed by him. “Then you need to get a better life.” Her hands slapped to her sides. “Is this part of the interview? Talking like this about goods straddling and my car?”
He peered around her desk at her feet. “You going to retrieve it in those heels? Shame to kill another pair.”
“Maybe. Yes. I don’t know.” Her head was pounding anew, and she rubbed one temple. Enough of that. “I need coffee.”
She rounded her desk and yanked open her door. Tricia and Stephanie jerked upright. Patty stood behind them, arms crossed, her foot tapping, clearly disapproving of the eavesdroppers. Patty always had Alice’s back.
Stephanie giggled, and Tricia adopted her disapproving frown. “We were seeing if Alice was free for lunch,” Steph said.
“Sadly not,” Theodore answered for her. “We have our first interview. Over lunch.”
What the…?
“Ooo, a date,” Patty whispered and slowly nodded.
Roger came up behind them. “Ladies. Call a meeting or something?” He hated it when the women gathered, probably because he didn’t want any of them to compare notes on him.
Tricia slowly turned toward him, her lips curling into a cunning smile. “Seems Alice and Theodore are having a date.”
Alice almost corrected her, because no way was she going on a date with Kiss a Ginger guy. But then Roger stepped closer, disdain coloring his face. “Oh? Is that appropriate?”
Nothing about the last twenty-four hours had been appropriate. But even if Roger was her boss, she’d be damned if she’d think he could pull that stunt. According to Tricia, the guy dated half the office in addition to withholding information about his real plans for replacing the CFO. If anyone was wrong, it was him.
You know what? It would help to have a guy with her if she had to go to a place where they towed cars. They weren’t usually in the safest areas of DC. She could pretend they were going out for lunch and do that instead. It would be Theodore’s penance for putting her in that position.
She swiveled her head to gaze at him. “You ever been to the Palm? I hear it’s a great place for a job-related lunch for that interview.” She then looked right at Roger, who flushed red with anger. “Since it’s such a priority and all.”
It was ridiculously early for lunch, but the whole scenario needed handling—immediately. After she got her car, of course. Then she’d have a serious talk with Theodore about boundaries. Good plan all around.
“No, I haven’t,” Theodore said. “Lead the way.” He gestured for her to bypass the crowd.
She snatched up her purse and her scarf and marched straight to the elevator. She wasn’t feeling great so maybe a little food would help.
The door opened immediately. She stepped inside and leaned against the railing, feeling a little dizzy. Theodore followed her inside, and the doors shut them inside together—and alone.
He immediately stepped closer, bringing his scent into her space again. “You sure you want to go to the Palm?”
His eyes really were otherworldly blue, and he truly smelled amazing. Like cinnamon and leather.
“No, I don’t, I’d like to …” Her words were stopped because his arm circled her waist and yanked her flush to him. Oh, strong. Her head felt like it was floating off her body. He brought his face closer to hers. He had such nice lips.
“I do, huh?”
She said that aloud? She sucked in a breath, the elevator walls waving in her sight. Dots appeared in her vision; her knees buckled. Then …