Chapter 8
Charlotte
Tip # 8: Nothing says your boss knows you better than anyone else like him seasoning your soup for you without being asked.
A gust of chilly, damp air tickled the back of my neck as Isaac held open the door to Literum—a café/bookstore in downtown Fox Creek—for me. I hurried inside, my heels clicking on the creaky wooden floorboards. The aromas of freshly ground coffee beans and old books greeted me like beloved pets, and my shoulders instantly relaxed.
“Are you sure we have time for this, Isaac?” I asked skeptically, brushing a few stray raindrops from the shoulder of my charcoal-gray blazer. The wind had yanked a few wisps of my dark hair free from the bun I’d tucked it into this morning. I’d have to fix it before going back to the office.
Isaac ran a hand through his damp dark hair, making it stick up slightly, a look that was much more casual than his usual image. “It’s lunchtime. Of course there’s time for lunch.”
“I wasn’t talking about eating. I meant do we really have time to be lunching out instead of just grabbing something from the cafeteria?” I clarified, raising an eyebrow at him. This was very unlike Mr. Work-Comes-First Warner.
“We do.” A faint smirk played at the corners of Isaac’s mouth as he slipped past me, heading for the register without another word.
I narrowed my eyes at his back. Was this a misguided attempt to prove we could lighten our hefty workload? Ha! As if that were remotely possible with the mountain of projects piled on his desk alone.
The bell over the door jingled again, and in walked Theo and Lola, both drenched.
Theo shook his head like a dog, then broadly grinned at me. “Hey, Charlotte!”
Lola leaned in and whispered, “Did the Overlord change his mind? Are we going back to eat at Warner Print?”
I patted her damp shoulder, relieved it wasn’t only me who found this highly suspicious. “Isaac insists we have time.” I pointed to our boss, who was casually studying the café’s menu board, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat.
Theo dramatically folded his arms across his chest and pushed his shoulders up, effectively swallowing up his neck. “I never thought I’d see the day Isaac Warner would choose to dine among the common folk when there’s work to be done. This is monumental!”
I smiled, bemused by the duo. “Did you check with Ravi and Arisa to see if they want anything?”
“Yep, and I already got their orders,” Lola chirped. “I texted them as soon as the Overlord declared we were venturing beyond the castle walls.”
“I can put in their orders and ask the barista to hold off on making the food until closer to the end of our lunch break. That way it’ll still be hot,” Theo suggested.
“Good thinking.” I glanced around the cozy shop, taking in the warm brick walls and colorful artwork. A few patrons were clustered at the tables and chairs by the front windows, chatting over steaming mugs. “Why don’t I go scope out a table for us?”
Lola’s eyes widened. “Oh, uh, actually….” She fidgeted, nervously wringing her hands.
Theo swooped in, wiggling his eyebrows and draping an arm around Lola’s shoulders. “If you don’t mind playing my wingman—or wingwoman?—could I request you sit with the Overlord so Lola and I can have ourselves a little lunch date? I can tell you from experience that it is incredibly hard—as in impossible—to have a nice flirty conversation when I can see the boss’s face.”
I looked from Theo to Lola. “You two are dating?”
Theo glanced at Lola. “Not… yet?” He sounded confused.
“Not yet,” Lola rushed to agree. “We’re still in the early stages—testing the idea of a relationship.” She looked at Theo, and the two exchanged warm smiles that slowly transformed into sappy expressions before my very eyes.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t seen this coming—I’d thought for a while that they suited each other. But I hadn’t known they’d actually taken the first step.
I chuckled. “I see. In that case, sure, I don’t mind eating alone with Isaac. You kids have fun.”
“Thank you, Charlotte!” Lola gave me an unexpected bear hug. I patted her back.
When she released me and Theo moved to copy her, I held up a hand. “Not necessary, Theo, but thank you for the sentiment,” I said, covering up my real worry, which was that I wouldn’t survive a bear hug from Theo, who was built like a gym bro.
Theo settled for bowing to me. “Thank you, Lady Wingwoman!”
I waved him off and made my way over to Isaac.
All of Literum’s tables were either at the front window or in the center by the service counter. The rest of the floor space was occupied with mazes of bookshelves stacked with books—used and brand new—and a small section for toys, puzzles, and board games.
There was a staircase in the back left that led up to the second-floor balcony area—Ella and I usually liked to sit up there when we dropped by Literum.
“Looks like it’s just you and me.” I sidled up beside Isaac. “Theo and Lola want to have a lunch date and spend some quality time together.”
Isaac nodded without looking away from the menu. “Fine by me.”
I blinked in surprise. No objections? No lecture about inappropriate fraternization on company time? “Really? You don’t mind a romantic rendezvous between them?”
He shrugged, unconcerned. “It’s not my business—nor is it Warner Print’s concern—what they do during lunchtime.”
That sounded about right for Isaac, but it was odd that he was so blasé about Lola and Theo dating. I hadn’t even known the duo were romantically involved yet, so there was no way it was on Isaac’s radar!
Reaching into his suit jacket, Isaac pulled out his wallet. “Do you know what you want?”
“Yep,” I said, still recovering from his laid-back assessment.
Lauren, the pixie-haired barista who was also the owner, approached the register with a warm smile. “Hi there! What can I get for you today?”
Isaac gave me an expectant look. “You order first, Charlotte.”
“Thanks.” I smiled at Isaac, then turned my attention to Lauren. “I’ll have the Wisconsinite grilled cheese, a cup of the roasted tomato soup, and a Jane Austen latte, please.”
“Those are excellent choices!” Lauren punched in my order. “Will that be all?”
“We’ll be on the same ticket.” Isaac moved forward to stand beside me, our arms brushing.
I stepped aside, giving him room while trying to ignore the little zing of awareness his proximity elicited.
“I’ll have the roast beef sandwich, baked potato soup, a chocolate chip scone, and an Edgar Allen Poe latte,” Isaac said.
Lauren read the order back to us, then showed Isaac where to tap his credit card to pay.
I watched, used to Isaac paying for me. He always insisted—regardless of whether we were on a work trip or not. Between him and Warner Print’s cafeteria, I hadn’t paid for a workday lunch in years.
“You folks can have a seat wherever you’d like,” Lauren said once the transaction finished. “I’ll call out your order when it’s ready.”
“Thank you, Lauren.” I smiled at her before pivoting to Isaac. “Where would you like to sit?”
Isaac scanned the mostly occupied first floor. The corners of his lips turned down, as he wasn’t a people person, before his gaze flickered to the balcony hanging over our heads. “I wonder if they have seating upstairs?”
Overhearing the question, Lauren pointed toward the back. “We sure do! Head up those stairs there and you’ll find plenty of tables and cozy nooks to choose from.”
“Perfect.” Isaac sauntered off toward the staircase.
I followed behind him. Gripping the railing, I tried not to be bitter that the steep steps had me out of breath by the time we reached the top whereas Isaac was unbothered.
While Isaac studied our seating choices, I peeked around him, admiring the shelves that overflowed with books—all used books up here on the second floor—and were lit by soft lamplight.
There were a few armchairs arranged in little reading nooks, and more tables and chairs were grouped near the front of the building, overlooking Main Street outside via the front window or offering a charming view of the first floor through the wooden balcony railing.
We had the entire floor to ourselves save for one other patron—a woman curled up in an armchair with a book, her adorable white terrier snoozing at her feet in a raincoat that matched her own. Peak small-town charm.
Isaac paced through the seating choices like a panther, then abruptly stopped and glanced back at me over his shoulder. “How’s this?” He pointed to a table for two tucked against a window that overlooked Main Street.
“It’s perfect.” I shrugged out of my blazer and chose a chair. “The view is wonderful.”
Isaac nodded as he seated himself, his eyes thoughtful as he studied the street below.
I leaned back in my creaky chair, enjoying the companionable silence that settled between us.
Despite what other employees imagined, Isaac’s silence wasn’t broody or a bad omen. It was quiet and thoughtful. If Isaac was silent and not working, as he was now, it meant he was taking the moment in and giving himself the rare chance to simply enjoy.
Furthermore, if he was silent with someone it meant he genuinely enjoyed their presence—he did his best to get rid of those he didn’t like.
I listened to the tap of raindrops hitting the window and peered outside. The quaint streets of Fox Creek bustled with activity. A maroon van—a full sized one which was pretty old judging by the fake wooden siding on it—waited at a stop light. An SUV that had a back passenger window open pulled up next to the van, waiting in the left turn lane.
As I watched, a miniature pony stuck its head out of the SUV’s window and neighed. The two drivers must have known each other, because the van window slowly lowered, and an older man wearing a weathered baseball cap leaned out the window. It took me a moment to realize he was holding out an apple. The SUV’s driver lowered another window so the man could toss the apple to the pony—who immediately pulled its head back into the SUV to investigate the snack.
I chuckled at the sight. This kind of folksy chaos was pure Fox Creek charm.
“Something amusing?” Isaac quirked an eyebrow.
“I was just thinking that I love Fox Creek. And I love the people who live here even more.”
Whenever I had the rare chance for an outing, that was, but I didn’t need to speak that part out loud.
“When we had dinner with my family, you mentioned you’re planning a trip to Switzerland,” Isaac said, changing the topic. “Where in Switzerland do you want to go?”
I rested my hands on the table, which was painted white but was peeling to reveal the pine beneath. “Grindelwald, Lucerne, and Interlaken for sure. I want to see the Matterhorn, so I’m thinking Zermatt would be a wonderful place to go, but it’s pretty expensive.”
“You’ll be going at the start of summer, right?”
“Yes. I tried to time it just before their peak tourist season starts so the weather will be nice for hiking and traveling around in the mountains.”
Isaac slowly nodded. “Switzerland is an excellent choice.”
“You’ve visited it before?” I guessed.
“Yes. My father was an avid skier. We took a few family trips to Switzerland for the skiing season. The Alps are breathtaking; you’re going to love it.”
I was about to reply when Lauren’s voice rang out from downstairs, announcing that our order was ready. Isaac and I both stood up, but Isaac held up a hand, stopping me.
“I’ve got this,” he said. “You stay put.”
I hesitated. “Are you sure? It’s a lot of food to carry by yourself.”
“It will be fine. Keep enjoying the view.” Isaac gestured to the window before he disappeared down the stairs, leaving me to settle back into my chair.
Feeling a bit awkward sitting there alone, twiddling my thumbs, I fished my phone out of my pocket and began scrolling through my work emails. A few client requests, a reminder about an upcoming meeting… nothing too pressing.
One subject line on a company-wide email caught my attention, though: “Squirrel Health Initiative.” Curiosity piqued, I tapped on the message.
Subject: Squirrel Health Initiative—Effective Immediately
Warner Print Team,
Concerned employees have brought to our attention that the resident squirrels on our corporate campus have been partaking in an ill-advised and nutritionally unsound diet, largely consisting of discarded human food sourced from our outdoor waste receptacles. A significant portion of these squirrels are now visibly overweight to the point of inciting legitimate health concerns among employees regarding the squirrels’ long-term well-being.
In response, our facilities department employees will be replacing all outdoor trash bins with certified squirrel-proof models. We trust this measure will help curb these opportunistic dining habits and restore our squirrels to a more appropriate physique.
Additionally, we kindly request that you refrain from offering food, particularly pizza, directly to the squirrels. Several squirrels have developed a heightened pizza-recognition capacity which has led to three recent incidents of squirrel bites. Our insurance provider has voiced strong reservations about these encounters, and we must therefore stress the importance of exercising culinary discretion around our squirrel neighbors.
Thank you for your cooperation and continued commitment to maintaining a safe and nutritionally appropriate environment for all life-forms on campus.
Respectfully,
Management
“If that’s a work email you’re reading, allow me to point out it’s not just my workaholic traits that keep you working long hours,” Isaac said.
Surprised, as I hadn’t heard him approach the table, I guiltily set my phone down. “I said from the start I had to quit because I’m unable to stop working outside of normal hours.”
Isaac quirked an eyebrow at me as he set the tray cluttered with plates, cups, and our drinks down on our table. “You have maintained that, but I assumed it was your way of letting me down gently—the whole, it’s not you, it’s me talk.”
The rich aromas of roasted tomato soup and melted cheese wafted through the air, making my stomach growl.
“That’s a breakup talk, not an employee resignation,” I said.
“You’re right.” Isaac set my grilled cheese and tomato soup in front of me, snagging the pepper shaker to shake some pepper into my tomato soup for me, just the way I liked it, before adding a dash of pepper to his own soup. “Your resignation feels much more similar to a divorce than a mere breakup.”
I chuckled as I put Isaac’s latte next to his roast beef sandwich, popping the cap off the drink so it would start cooling. (Isaac preferred his hot drinks on the cooler end of the temperature scale.) Next, I scooted his chocolate chip scone off to the side, giving us more room. “How is it a divorce? I love your family, but it’s not like I’m going to request joint custody of them, and you’re not losing anything.”
“I’m losing you ,” Isaac said, his voice devoid of humor.
I risked glancing at him and gulped when I saw his gaze was settled on me, his gray eyes too intense for it to be a joke.
I tried to smile, but I couldn’t quite force it, so my lips scrunched up into something closer to a grimace. “I suppose that makes us even, as I’m losing you.”
There was a lot I’d be sad to leave behind, but Isaac was undoubtedly at the top of my list. I’d never have another boss—no—another coworker like him, with our long history and easy understanding.
The eye contact made my heart feel oddly raw, so I switched my focus to my food.
I started with the gooey, cheesy goodness that was my grilled cheese and hummed with appreciation. The combination of sharp cheddar, buttery Muenster, and sweet Colby was pure Wisconsin bliss.
Isaac quirked an eyebrow at me from across the table, his humor back and his own sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Should I give you two a moment alone?”
I swallowed my mouthful of heaven. “I’m merely showing appreciation for our state’s dairy products.”
He chuckled, taking a bite of his own roast beef creation. “Fair enough.”
We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, savoring the warmth of the food and the gentle patter of rain against the window. As I dunked a corner of my sandwich into the velvety tomato soup, a thought occurred to me.
“So,” I began, wiping my lips with a paper napkin, “I see you took Arisa’s squirrel concerns to heart.”
Isaac paused mid-chew, his brow furrowing slightly. “How did you…?”
“Company-wide email.” I tilted my head toward my phone. “Apparently, all outdoor trash cans are getting swapped for squirrel-proof versions.”
“I see.”
“You didn’t suggest that?”
“No. I merely brought the issue to Samuel and told him to get someone on it,” Isaac said.
I sipped my latte. The sweet, creamy blend of strawberries and vanilla danced across my tongue, a perfect complement to the savory flavors of my meal. “Hopefully it will alleviate Arisa’s concerns as well as the worries of other animal-loving Warner Print employees.”
“I doubt it.” Isaac reached for his own drink. “Company-wide emails almost always start more problems than they solve.”
I laughed. “You just get annoyed because lots of people use the Reply All button and respond to the entire company instead of directing their questions to management.”
“Correct.” Isaac toasted me with his paper to-go cup. “I’m still bitter from the great birthday-cake fiasco of June last year when management announced the monthly birthday cake would be gluten-free.” He shook his head in disgust, likely at the memory of the hundreds of Reply All emails we’d gotten as employees argued for and against the cake.
“Well, you know what they say,” I teased, “no good deed goes unpunished.”
Isaac took a long sip from his latte. “Apparently not.”
I finished off my sandwich, tilting my head when I heard the faintest trace of Lola’s recognizable laugh. (Her laugh was cute—it started out small and sputtery until she couldn’t hold it back and let loose, ending with a happy sigh.) “Sounds like Lola is having fun. Did you see her and Theo downstairs when you got our food?”
“Yes.” Isaac said.
“And?” I prodded.
Isaac furrowed his brow. “And what?”
I shook my head in mock disappointment. “What were they doing? Were they flirting? Did it look like a date?”
“Oh. Um.” Isaac scanned the balcony for a moment, thinking. “I suppose, yes. They were feeding each other bites of a cheesecake bar they’d bought. Is that satisfactory?”
“Yes, but allow me to say you’re likely jaded because you don’t see the need for romance.”
“I acknowledge that most humans naturally desire a close, romantic relationship,” Isaac said. “What I don’t see the need for—or appeal of—is becoming a fool and losing all traces of intelligence with such a relationship.”
I scraped the last spoonful of my zesty tomato soup from my mug. “When I hear you talk like that, I don’t wonder why your mother despairs she’s ever getting a daughter-in-law out of you.”
Isaac set his empty plate and mug back on the tray. “I said I acknowledge the need for romantic relationships.”
“Mm-hmm,” I said.
Giggling drew my attention away from our conversation. I glanced over to see a trio of young women huddled on the top stair of the staircase, gawking at my handsome companion. They looked like they were fresh out of college, all wide-eyed with hope that hadn’t yet been stomped out of them by work and the cares of the world.
“I told you I saw an attractive guy come up here!” one of them whispered loudly, her voice carrying across the quiet balcony.
“He’s beyond attractive—he’s a work of art,” a second reverently said.
I turned to the window, hiding my amusement. (If they realized we could hear them, they’d be mortified.) “Looks like you’ve got some admirers.”
Isaac leaned back in his chair. “Jealous?”
I took a sip of my latte to hide my smile. “Hardly. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got plenty of admirers of my own back at the office.”
Isaac leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “Do your fellow employees really count? Most of them see you as a saint, the only one capable of keeping the icy and tyrannical Isaac Warner in check.”
I set my drink down. “Yeah, but isn’t being impressed with one’s skills rather than one’s appearance the textbook definition of admiration?”
Isaac’s lips twitched with a rare, playful smile. “So you admit I’m attractive?”
I laughed outright. “Please. I’ve been trying to get you to capitalize on that pretty face of yours since the day I became your assistant. It’s not my fault you insist on being the office Overlord instead of a people person.”
Isaac leaned back in his chair, his gaze suddenly intense. “True. Circling back to the original discussion, when I asked if you were jealous, I wasn’t inferring that I was more popular than you. Rather I was asking if you were jealous that I was being admired by someone else.”
I blinked, truly baffled. “Why on earth would I be jealous of a few starry-eyed college girls ogling you like a piece of art?”
He shrugged, but there was a seriousness to his expression that seemed misplaced considering the topic. “You said it yourself. I’m a masterpiece.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “And like any good masterpiece, you belong in a museum. To look at but not touch.”
Isaac leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m just surprised. Considering how long we’ve worked together, one would think you’d take more ownership of me.”
I nearly choked on my latte. “Ownership? Of you? Isaac, if I owned you, you’d be even more detrimental to my mental health than you already are. I’d probably wake up one day to discover you’d moved us both into the office permanently.”
Isaac chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a tingle down my spine even though I’d been hearing it for years. “I can’t deny that. Still, won’t you be disappointed? When you leave, admiring a masterpiece will no longer be a job perk.”
My smile softened. “I’ll miss our adventures, that’s for sure, and I’ll never regret my time at Warner Print and all we’ve accomplished. But…”
“But?” Isaac cut his chocolate chip scone and deposited half on a napkin he placed in front of me.
I grinned. “But at least I’ll finally have a dating life again. And thank you.” I held the scone up, acknowledging he’d split it with me before I took a bite.
Literum warmed their scones in a toaster oven before giving them to customers, so the chocolate chips were still melted, and the sugar sprinkled on top added a touch of crunch. The scone was perfect—and it also happened to be my guilty pleasure, the treat I picked up on the rare occasion I was doing a coffee run for an early morning meeting.
“This is amazing, as ever.” I sighed in delight.
Isaac took a bite of his half of the scone, tilting his head as he thought. “It was worthwhile to trust your judgement.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I got it because it’s your favorite order here,” Isaac said.
I stopped my rapturous eating and peered at Isaac, freezing when his eyes met mine.
Even though I sometimes wanted to yank on his tie when he agreed to take on more work projects, I was starting to recognize he really was one of my closest friends. Saying goodbye would be so much harder than I’d prepared myself for.
I broke eye contact first, glancing out the window at the rain-spattered street below. Taking another bite of the scone, I savored the rich, buttery sweetness and the melted pockets of warm chocolate. Heaven.
Beside me, Isaac checked his watch, then abruptly sat up straight, a deep frown marring his handsome features.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“My watch stopped working.” He unclasped the leather band and held it out for my inspection.
I recognized it—it was the watch I’d given him our second Christmas working together. “The battery must have died.”
The muscles of his shoulders tensed. “I’ll get the battery replaced.”
I blinked. “Why? With a cheap watch like that it’ll cost more money to get the battery replaced than to buy a new one.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Isaac said. “You gave me this watch.”
“Yeah, but I won’t be mad if you throw it out. I’ve given you much nicer ones since then.”
Watches were always a safe gift for Isaac, so I’d given him more than a few over the years as he raised my pay grade and I could afford nicer ones.
Sure, watches were a slightly more personal gift than an employee might typically give their boss, but the year Isaac made CFO he gave me diamond earrings with a matching necklace for my birthday when I’d mentioned offhand I didn’t have any jewelry to wear to an event we were attending, so I mostly scrambled to try to keep up with his overly generous gifts.
Isaac’s eyes turned a stormy shade of gray that matched the weather outside. “The expense of the watch isn’t the point, Charlotte.”
“OK?” I said.
“You gave me this watch,” he repeated.
I nodded, waiting for him to explain.
Isaac furrowed his brow. “Because you gave it to me, it’s important to me.”
A part of my heart instantly melted. I’d always known Isaac was sentimental in his own way, but this…this felt different somehow. Raw. Intimate. Or at the very least it felt like he was admitting something.
I held my hand out. “I’m touched you care enough to want to keep it,” I admitted. “Give it over. I’ll handle it.”
Isaac narrowed his eyes. “You can’t throw it out.”
I laughed. “No, I’m not. There’s a watch and clock repair shop in Deerfield,” I said, naming a neighboring small town. “I’ll take it there.”
Isaac stared down at the worn wristwatch. “ I’ll take it there,” he decided. “Text me the address.”
“I’m happy to take it,” I said. “You don’t have to be so suspicious.”
“When something matters to me, it’s better to handle it myself.” Isaac slipped the watch in his suit coat pocket and checked his phone. “We have a little time left before we need to leave. Do you want any more desserts?”
I hurriedly ate the last bit of my scone and placed my dishes on the tray. “No, but I’ll come with. I want to peruse the bookshelves for a little bit.”
Isaac nodded as he stood up. “That’s not a bad idea.”
I suspiciously eyed him. “If you even think about buying another productivity or time management book, I’m calling your mother.”
Isaac chuckled, and I tried to stand, but I hadn’t pushed my chair far enough away from the table, so I banged my knees and awkwardly staggered.
Before I could right myself, Isaac slid a hand around my back, steadying me. I could feel the warmth of his hand on my back through the fabric of my satin blouse, and his grip on my hip was strong and sure.
A little zip of awareness danced up my arm, but I ignored it with practiced ease. (It was a necessary skill when working for someone as attractive as Isaac.)
“Are you OK?” Isaac asked as I straightened up and maintained my balance.
“Yep, fine. But thanks for spotting me,” I cheerfully said as I took a step forward, shuffling out of his grasp.
I grabbed my coat and started to retreat across the balcony until I realized I’d dumped our dishes and tray on Isaac again.
I turned around and was slightly confused to find Isaac staring at his palm. I watched him in silence for several moments, but he just kept gazing at his hand with a confused sort of fascination.
Unbidden, my eyebrows started to hike up to my hairline. Was something wrong? Did I need to start slipping him nutritional supplements in addition to his protein bars?
I retraced my steps back to table. “I’ll carry the drinks. Can you get the tray again?” I asked as I picked up our abandoned lattes.
Isaac set his shoulders and was back to his polished politeness. “Of course.”
“Great! Thanks again for lunch, Isaac.”
Isaac picked up the tray. “It was my pleasure.”