Uncharted Territory

2. Garrett

2

Garrett

E mma is pissed.

The difference between her playful I’m tired of your crap look and her very serious I hope you like spit in your coffee look are subtle. One is accompanied by a smug little smile, the other by a firmly clenched jaw. Over the past year, I’ve learned to distinguish between the two pretty well.

But I’m not stupid, so I still check my coffee for spit bubbles every morning. I haven’t found any yet, but one day I’ll do something to piss her off enough to earn it. Something like dragging her along on a bunch of wilderness excursions.

Ethan gives me a stupid little smirk as he leans back in the chair across from me and props one ankle up on the opposite knee. He glances toward the glass wall that separates Emma’s desk from my office. She’s sitting ramrod straight in her chair, lips pursed and fingers violently punching at her keyboard.

“I’m guessing she didn’t take the news very well,” Ethan says.

“It’s fine,” I grumble.

“Is it? Because I’m pretty sure she’s out there plotting your murder right now. She’s probably making a list of all the ways a person could ‘accidentally’ die on a camping trip.”

I look over at Emma’s clenched jaw, and…yeah, he’s probably right.

“You sure she’s up for this?” Ethan asks.

“Of course she is.”

Ethan clears his throat. The smirk on his lips flattens out as he leans forward. His voice is low and serious when he speaks again. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

I let out an exasperated sigh and ask, “When are you going to let that go?”

The incident (if you can even call it that) he’s referring to is the day that I met Emma for the first time. Ethan and I were working remotely for a couple of weeks while we dealt with some family issues. My previous assistant quit abruptly to move to Belize with her windsurfing boyfriend, so I tasked our HR manager with finding a replacement as quickly as possible. On my first day back, I walked in to find Emma sitting at the desk outside my office.

We’d communicated a little via email, but aside from a cursory glance at her resume, I knew very little about Emma Carlton.

I never bothered to imagine what she looked like. The woman was hired to be my assistant, not my girlfriend, so it shouldn’t matter what she looked like.

Then she brushed a strand of chestnut brown hair away from her face. Her big, blue eyes locked on mine, and she smiled as she stood up and walked around her desk to shake my hand.

And that’s when I accidentally – but very blatantly – checked her out.

I’m not proud of it, but it happened. And Emma certainly noticed.

In an effort to rebound from the awkward situation, I blurted something out. I’m not even sure what I said, but it only served to further annoy her.

I can’t fault her for being irritated by my behavior. Hell, I was irritated by my behavior. I don’t make a habit of checking out women around the office. There are more than enough attractive women in this world who don’t work for me. I don’t have any shortage of options in that department. Call me cocky but owning a hugely successful company will do that for a person. Not that I’ve had the time to take advantage of that perk lately.

Since our initial meeting, I’ve kept things strictly professional when it comes to Emma. What happened that first day was just a momentary lapse in judgment on my part. Followed by another lapse in judgment when I mentioned the incident to my brother, just to get it off my chest. It’s been a year, and he still brings it up every chance he gets.

Emma has never brought it up, but she doesn’t let it go either. Her disdain for me is no secret, but she knows how to toe the line between detached professionalism and openly hating my guts. And despite it all, we work pretty well together.

Most of the time…but obviously, not today.

It’s a shame because I was actually in a good mood for the first time in months. Being cooped up in the office day after day has been wearing on me. I’m excited to get outside for a few weeks to scout these partnerships.

I’ll let her have some time to fume, but after that, she’s just going to have to suck it up and get over it.

“I still can’t believe you’re dragging her along on this trip,” my brother says, pulling me away from my thoughts.

“She’s my assistant. It’s her job.”

“Sure, but wouldn’t it make more sense to have her here in the office while you’re away?”

“We’ll catch up on work in between tours,” I say. “Besides, everyone knows they can come to you when I’m out of the office.”

Hiring my younger brother as the Chief Financial Officer for my company was an easy decision. Ethan has an even better head for business than I do. He’s always known when to save a penny and when to spend it. Maybe because we grew up dirt poor, and pennies are the currency we became accustomed to.

Ethan shakes his head disapprovingly. “There’s something you’re not telling me. Is there some other reason you want to bring her on this trip?”

I know what he’s getting at, and it couldn’t be any further from the truth. Spending the next few weeks with a woman who despises me is not my idea of a good time. I don’t have any romantic – or nocturnal – notions when it comes to Emma. I may have checked her out once by mistake, but that’s as far as things will ever go between us.

But Ethan isn’t totally wrong either.

“There might be another reason,” I relent with a sigh. “It’s one thing for me to go on these tours. I’m used to doing this kind of stuff, but I need to know how well-suited these tours are for the average person as well. If they’re only catering to the super athletic, outdoorsy type, it will limit our customer base and might not be worth our investment.”

“So, Emma is your guinea pig?” Ethan asks, still looking unconvinced.

“I guess…if you want to call it that. But that stays between you and me.”

No sense in pissing Emma off even more than I already have.

“I won’t say anything,” Ethan says as he stands up to leave, “but I’m also not buying that bullshit excuse.”

“Lucky for me, I don’t really care if you buy it or not,” I tell him.

Ethan laughs and shakes his head at me again before turning to leave. I turn my attention back to the email that I was writing before Emma walked into my office this morning.

Then I hear Ethan laugh again.

I glance up and see him standing in front of Emma’s desk, hands in his pockets and grinning widely over something she just said.

A familiar pang of something I don’t care to acknowledge or define takes root in my stomach. Emma’s annoyance with me has never extended to my brother. If anything, they seem to get along too well. They’re always chatting. Always laughing. It annoys the hell out of me. I don’t pay her to laugh at his stupid jokes.

I pick up my desk phone and tap the button for Emma’s extension.

Beyond the glass wall, I watch Emma’s jaw tighten and her smile flatten out when she sees my name light up on her phone. She adjusts in her seat, sitting up a little straighter like she’s trying to gain her composure before picking up the receiver.

“I’m sending you the list of tours right now,” I tell her. “I need you to book them today.”

“I’ll get right on that,” she says in a sharp, clipped tone.

Meanwhile, Ethan is rolling his eyes at me and covertly flipping me off with a single finger sticking out of his pocket.

“And tell my brother the feeling is mutual,” I add before hanging up.

Emma puts the receiver back in the cradle and delivers the message to my brother with a confused shrug. He laughs and taps his fingers lightly on the edge of her desk before turning to walk away.

Honestly, there’s no reason that Emma needs to book all of the tours today, aside from the fact that we’d both probably prefer to get this over with. But if she has time to sit around and chat with my brother, she has time to take care of scheduling this trip.

One thing’s for sure: I’ll be checking my coffee extra thoroughly for spit bubbles tomorrow.