Chapter 15
Fifteen
Come Monday morning, I'm feeling a little petty. Instead of getting to the office early to make sure he has his coffee, I arrive right on time—only to find my desk turned back toward his open office, complete with a familiar bag of cookies beside my keyboard.
During my meltdown yesterday afternoon, Lawson liked one of my pictures from my first year in college, giving away the fact that he’d scrolled back years to see what I’d been doing with my life once I left. Once again, giving me whiplash from his hot and cold actions.
Knowing his eyes are on me, I push the bag to the edge of the desk without so much as another glance before I settle in and act as though nothing is amiss—even though I want to attack the cookies like a feral raccoon because I haven’t had them in years.
No amount of time and memory ever allowed me to recreate the recipe.
“Good morning,” Lawson greets.
I glance up to see his unbothered, perfectly tanned features smiling down at me, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Morning,” is all I offer in response as I power up my computer. When Lawson doesn’t move, I flip my loose waves over one shoulder and look at him expectantly. “Was there something you needed, Mr. Morgan?”
“I was hoping we could talk. Why don’t you come to my office?” The words are quiet as he surveys the area to make sure the few people who are in the office aren’t within earshot.
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m sorry about Friday night. It won’t happen again.”
I don’t miss the way his body tenses at my rudeness before his features morph to amusement. The corner of his lips quirks up before he nods amicably. “I’m sorry as well.”
I want to ask him what he’s sorry for. I want to know if he’s sorry for ignoring me the second Jules arrived.
Or if he’s sorry for dragging me into the hall and pinning me against the wall like he was ready to take me right there.
Is he sorry for getting hard when he had my body trapped?
For getting turned on by our position? Or perhaps for not acting on it when he had the chance?
“If that’s all, then I have work to do,” I snip, crossing my ankles to stop my feet from bouncing on the toes of my sky-blue stilettos.
“Lucy—”
“Look… I’m sorry for all the messages I’m sure you got on Iconic, and I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you on Friday. It won’t happen again,” I repeat. “Now, if you don’t mind...” I bite my inner cheek from saying anything else.
At the end of the day, Lawson is my boss, and I have to respect that.
I’m toeing a line with my attitude as it is.
But as his jaw tics, and he looks like he’s debating hauling me into his office with or without my consent, I’m tempted to scream and yell and throw a fit.
I can’t help but notice that when I give him sass, he seems to lose control over whatever is holding him back.
“I need you to set a budget for the quarterly morale party. I finished booking everything using the budget we had for last quarter, but I need to know exactly how much I have left to play with for catering,” I inform him as he starts to head back to his office.
I can feel him watching me as I push back from my desk, notebook and pen in hand. Everyone else’s assistants use the company-provided iPads. However, I like writing everything down and knowing I’m never at risk of losing notes due to a technology malfunction.
Following Lawson into his office, I don’t miss that he veers to the right, stepping out of the way so he can close the door behind me.
When I spin around, he’s already in my personal space, nearly toe to toe, appraising me with a soft look that reminds me of another time—when we were different people.
“This isn’t the time or place to have this conversation.” His voice is a husky purr that makes my nipples harden and everything from my belly down to clench. “But I want you to know how truly sorry I am that I wasn’t there for you after what happened.”
He doesn’t need to explain what he means .
I’m already painfully aware, and as I crane my neck to look up at him, the memory of how isolated I felt rushes back.
I had no one to talk to about what we did.
I was confused and didn’t understand why, all of a sudden, Lawson had taken up every inch of my brain and my chest cavity.
I thought about him so often that I literally hurt my own feelings, thinking about how he must have hated me for what I forced him to do.
The unwanted feelings cause an unwelcome tingle to build in my sinuses, and I quickly blink it away before tears can form. Lawson’s gaze keeps drifting down to my lips like he wants to kiss me, and I hate it.
“You’re right. This isn’t the time or place. Never is the time or place. As in, we never have to have this conversation.” I take a step back and look down at my notepad. “Now, about the budget?—”
“I don’t care about the budget,” he interrupts, hand flying to his neck to scratch a non-existent itch.
“Well, I don’t want to talk,” I snap back, fixing him with the best steely gaze I can muster. My right foot taps, my fists clenching around the notepad and pen as I set my hands on my hips. “So we can talk about the party, or I can return to my desk.”
Lawson’s jaw tics again. And I swear I see his palm twitch as he drops it to his side, but it could also be a trick of the buttery light filtering through the windows.
“What are these events for again?” he inquires, moving to his desk.
“We do them every quarter. It’s good for morale. Shows the employees that you care about their mental health. We usually pick something fun to do on the company dime. Last quarter, we rented out a bowling alley. This quarter, we’re doing an 80s-themed party at Sk8 Land. ”
“Sk8 Land?” His brows shoot into his hairline. “That place is still open?”
“They renovated it, so it’s still pretty popular. The upstairs has an arcade and laser tag now.”
Lawson shakes his head incredulously. “And a bunch of adults want to have their company party there?”
A smirk pulls at my lips. “We like to have fun. I think dressing up in brightly-colored spandex and roller skating while drinking sounds like a great time.” When he doesn’t reply and fixes me with a flat glare, I continue, “Not all of us are old, Mr. Morgan. Some of us like to do more than work.”
Excitement flickers through me as his eyes darken at my playful words. Pressing Lawson’s buttons has become a game I can’t get enough of—one I want to become a champion at.
Triumph blooms throughout my chest as he says, “Oh, I know how to have fun, Lucy. Trust me, my kind of fun has nothing to do with glow sticks and rock music.”
I want to know what kind of fun that is, Lawson.
Heat melts down my spine as he stares at me, dragging his eyes down my body suggestively.
I’m aware that my bright pink shift dress isn’t exactly office wear, but then again, most of my closet isn’t exactly office-appropriate.
Chadwick never had an issue with my wardrobe.
But as Lawson takes in every dip and curve, I press my thighs together to try to quell the wetness gathering between them, and it occurs to me that perhaps I might need to go shopping.
His attention abruptly goes to his computer screen. “Use whatever you need for catering, within reason. ”
Whatever heat had been growing between us quickly dies as he dismisses me, making me wonder if I should just invest in a neck brace. I turn and leave his office without a word, leaving the door cracked so that we don’t have to stare at each other.
I work until lunch, finalizing everything for the party and ordering the last piece of my outfit.
Justin and Anna stop by briefly to ask if we’re all still planning on going together.
Mike hasn’t spoken a word to me all day, and I bet he’s embarrassed about how he acted with Jules on Friday, so I leave him to lick his wounds.
According to Justin, Jules went to Mike’s place and left right after they slept together, bruising his overinflated ego.
It’s about time someone knocked him down a peg.
As soon as the clock hits noon, I grab my purse and shut down my computer.
I don’t feel like eating at the café downstairs, and I’m in dire need of groceries, so no packed lunch.
What I need is fresh air and space from the man I can’t stop thinking about, which means the little restaurant a few blocks away with the best pecan-crusted chicken and pear salad is the perfect solution.
“Will you grab me a sandwich when you go downstairs, please?” Lawson calls out as I walk past his door.
I pop my head in and state, “I’m not eating downstairs. I’m going out to grab lunch. I can bring you back something if you’d like?”
Lawson stands unexpectedly, grabbing his phone and slipping it into his pocket. “That sounds like a great idea. I’ll go with you.”
I blink. “That… that wasn’t an invitation to join me. ”
I need space, not an entire uninterrupted hour with him.
But his hand is already on the small of my back as he ushers me down the hall, sparking tingles throughout my body. Being this close to him keeps me in a permanent state of arousal, and I hate it. It isn’t fair.
In fact, it downright pisses me off.
“I don’t get you, Lawson,” I snap when we step onto the sidewalk. The sun beams down on us, warming my skin as a light breeze ruffles my hair. As we walk, I search for my sunglasses, thankful for something to shield my gaze because if looks could kill, Lawson would be fatally wounded by now.
“I know. I’m sorry for what happened on Friday. Jules is the one who wanted to join you for drinks. Trust me, I wanted to stay away.”
His words send new angry and offended sparks through me. “Am I that disgusting to you?”
“What?” He grabs my arm to pull me to a stop. “Why on earth would you think that? I don’t think you’re disgusting at all, Lucy.”