Chapter 11
Eleven
It seems as if every higher power in existence is against me today.
Alarm going off late? Check.
Not having time to shower and barely having a few minutes to take a ho bath before dousing myself in perfume? Double check.
Missing my wax appointment last night and not having time to shave my lady bits before my appointment?
Not reading the morning memo, even though Dr. Russo ran late, and I had more than enough time, but decided to scroll Iconic instead?
Thinking the worst is behind me and that nothing else can possibly happen on this beautiful summery day?
Check. Check. Check.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I’m acutely aware that Mary is looking between Lawson and me like we’re a strange sideshow at the circus, but I can’t bring myself to speak, and he looks like he’s seen a ghost .
Lawson Morgan.
A man I truly never thought I’d see again.
A man I’ve thought about at least once a day since graduation night.
A man who…
“You blocked me on Iconic?”
Six years and that’s what you say to him? Yeah, that’s really gonna show him you’ve grown up. So smooth, Lucy.
A flicker of a smirk pulls at his lips before he presses them into a flat line, eyes hardening as he looks at Mary briefly before turning the stormy gaze that I think about so often back to me. “Ms. Bradee, I wasn’t aware you worked here.”
Mary swishes her finger between us. “Do you two?—?”
“Yes, we know each other,” I interject, straightening as his subtle glance reminds me to remember where we are.
Professionalism drips from Lawson’s clipped tone when he quickly adds, “She used to date my son. It’s good to see you again, Lucy.”
It should offend me, but one look at Mary’s skeptical expression has me agreeing. “You as well, Mr. Morgan.”
“Will this be a problem? I can arrange for Lucy and Anna to switch if you’d like?” Mary inquires, even though Anna’s job is a step down from mine, and there’s no way in hell I’m taking a pay cut after I’ve worked my butt off for this company for the last year.
“No. It won’t be a problem. If anything, this is a blessing in disguise.
Lucy has done some work for me in the past, and her organizational skills are impeccable.
” Lawson motions to the bookcase behind him.
“And here’s all the proof I need that she hasn’t lost her touch.
If you could go ahead and get that email sent out by the end of the day, I’d appreciate it.
” He dismisses her with a tight smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Mary doesn’t read into it and offers him a beaming grin before looking at me. “Great! If you need anything, let me know!”
“Will do. Thank you, Mary.” My new boss ushers her out of the room with his hand hovering over the small of her back.
As he shuts the door, the tension visibly seeps back into his posture. He takes a few seconds to collect himself, expelling an audible breath before he turns around and bores those twin thunderclouds into my soul.
“I thought Cameron was taking over the Chicago office?”
Again, that’s what you say to him the first time you’re alone? Get it together, girl.
He bristles at my use of Mr. Crueller’s first name, fists clenching at his sides as he goes to sit behind the desk. “ Cameron wants to stay in New York to take Danvers’ place when he retires. Sorry to disappoint you.”
My face burns with embarrassment and something else as I observe him.
The last six years have been kind to Lawson, as time usually is to men like him.
His charcoal gray suit hugs his muscular body, which is still toned enough to tell through the fabric, and he’s stopped dying his hair, allowing the silver to shine through at the temples and in the scruff of his short beard.
He looks good enough to eat—and I didn’t have breakfast.
And I know firsthand just how appetizing he is.
“I didn’t mean to sound put off that it’s you instead. I just… I was… prepared for him ,” I offer lamely.
He arches a brow as he slides the coffee meant for Cameron toward himself. Removing the lid, he lifts the paper cup to his nose and inhales before huffing a short laugh. “You sure were. Even got a dash of cinnamon. Cam always likes his coffee sweet as shit.”
As he places the lid back, I can’t help but notice the absence of his wedding ring. Before I can say anything about it or even ask how Rhys and River are doing, he pushes the cup back my way and says, “For future reference, I take mine black.”
Confusion screws my brows together. “Since when? Last I remember, you always took it with one sugar and a dash of milk.”
“Well, I don’t anymore. I’m going to need all the files on the current deals that haven’t been finalized yet.
And there’s a conference in a few weeks that we’ll be attending up north.
I’ll forward you the resort information, and you’ll need to book a couple of rooms for us.
You didn’t miss much at the meeting this morning.
I told the staff that I have an open-door policy, so I need to be made available to them at all times. Do you understand?”
The way he starts to spit out orders catches me off guard. There’s no, ‘ How have you been?’ Or, ‘ What have you been up to these last six years?’ Lawson treats me like I assume he’d treat any new assistant, instead of with the warmth I’ve always associated him with.
I want to tell him, “Yes, sir.” Just to see his reaction. The memory of prom night is as fresh as if it happened yesterday .
Instead, I steel myself and go into work mode. “I understand. I’ll also email your last lead and get a list of your preferences.”
Gathering my purse, the coffees, and the cream cheese Danish that was supposed to be for Cameron, I try to will away the warmth in my cheeks.
“You can leave the coffee and whatever’s in the bag. I can deal with it for a day.” His tone is borderline teasing, and I find it highly annoying.
“Don’t worry about it, sir . There’s a small café downstairs. I’ll go get you a regular cup of sludge since apparently, you’re dull and have no taste now.”
Those are the same words he once used to describe plain coffee drinkers.
A shock zips up my arm and throughout my body as his hand encircles my wrist. My head whips back around, eyes landing on where he’s touching me.
“If it will make you more comfortable, we can tell HR to switch you and Anna.” He pauses, trying to gauge my reaction. “Is that what you want, Lucy?”
The electricity that’s been lying dormant for years sparks between us over the desk as we size each other up.
Heat gathers in my belly, pooling in a small trickle to my center.
I try to clench my thighs without him noticing, and out of habit, I bite the corner of my lower lip.
His eyes snap down to track the movement.
My voice is breathy as I reply, “No. No, that isn’t what I want, Mr. Morgan.”
His answering nod is tight as he returns my gaze and lets me go. “Good. It’s not what I want either.”
I cross the room quickly, looking for something to prop the door open with. Would he have still told the staff about his open-door policy if he knew it would give him a direct line of sight to my desk?
“I’ll need your number, Lucy,” he calls after me. “And you don’t have to call me Mr. Morgan. Lawson is just fine.”
My breath catches in my throat as I pause with my back still to him. Shifting slightly, I look over my shoulder. He’s staring at me, the gray of his eyes darkening to the point that they match his suit.
“My number hasn’t changed, Lawson . You’d know that if you bothered checking in over the last six years.”