Chapter 19
“I’m mad at you,” Sam declares as we walk into Moore Enterprises on Monday morning. I’m hardly a morning person, so when Sam called me at nearly six this morning to scold me for keeping him out of the loop over my weekend plans, I knew I wouldn’t ever live it down.
I shrug, tilting the coffee cup in my hands towards my lips, the minty flavor bursting on my tongue as its warmth works its way down my throat. “You said you were going off the grid this weekend and only to bother you if there was an emergency.”
His eyes widen in disbelief as he presses the button on the elevator to the fourth floor. “Daisy, I’d say hanging out with our boss on a weekend is quite the emergency.”
“Do you have to say it so loud?” I nearly hiss, my own gaze widening as I look around in hopes I don’t see anybody who works on our same floor. “The last thing I need is more people bothering me about what I do in my free time.”
Sam’s eyebrow arches, a shit-eating grin on his face. “By ‘do,’ are you talking about fucking our boss?”
My eyes nearly pop out of my head, and I’m about to knock Sam upside the head, but the elevator chiming and opening saves him. We both step in, and I shoot daggers at my best friend.
“Oh, quiet down with the death stare and drink your coffee,” he grins. I mock him silently, taking another sip as the doors begin closing.
“Hold the door!” a voice calls, and my stomach nearly bottoms out when Sam jerks forward to stick his hand in between to wait. If I were the only person on the elevator, I would’ve pressed the button to close the doors faster because as much as I hate socializing with people on a day-to-day basis, morning Daisy isn’t any better. I’m at my worst when I’ve barely had time to wake up.
“Be nice,” Sam teases, and I roll my eyes, leaning back against the wall and looking down at my shoes.
“Morning,” the deep voice rumbles, and I look up through my lashes to find Tanner stepping into the elevator. He’s wearing a fitted pair of navy dress pants that hug toned thighs a little too well with a white dress shirt, its collar peeking out from a looser style gray sweater and a gray blazer over that. The brown suede band of his watch matches his boots, and his blondish brunette hair is slicked back, yet some of it sticks up like he ran his fingers through it before it fully dried. Business casual, sure, but somehow, he manages to make the style look…hot.
What the hell?
Caught in the act, Tanner appears to be taking in my appearance as well when our eyes meet again. He grins. “Mornin’, Daisy.”
My neck heats and deepens in color when he stalks over to me and leans against the wall, our shoulders practically touching. Sam’s eyes volley between us, pulling his lips in a thin line to presumably avoid laughing. I’m in a staredown with my friend when Tanner leans slightly into me, nudging me gently with his shoulder. “You have a good weekend?”
There’s a knowing glint in his eyes that I’d maybe consider cute if it wasn’t seven forty-five in the morning, but all I can think about is finishing this coffee and spending the next two hours locked away in my office, trying to zen myself in a good mood.
“She’s a bit…crabby in the morning,” Sam says thickly, a chuckle slipping out.
“Watch yourself, Samuel Nicholas Alberdeen,” I snap, causing Tanner to clear his throat and sniff. He rolls his lips into his mouth to avoid laughing, dropping his head to focus on his boots. I narrow my gaze on him, the sudden urge to smack him upside his head strong.
When neither of them look at me, I sigh and wrap an arm around my stomach. Taking another sip of coffee, I lean a fraction closer to Tanner.
“My weekend was fine, thank you,” I say softly. He angles his head to look at me, the teasing grin replaced with a genuine smile that’s smaller.
“Good.”
Maybe it’s a case of the Monday blues, but five o’clock doesn’t come fast enough. I’m practically flicking my phone screen throughout the day, hoping it’s been more than a minute the last time I checked, but I can’t seem to speed up time like I want.
I have to admit that although Danicka was only here for a short amount of time and was let go immediately, her non-stop chatter made the slow days go by faster. I’ve said it before, but she and I were never friends. I listened to her problems; she didn’t care to know about mine, nor did I tell her, but it still felt nice to have somebody to at least keep me from getting lost in my own head. I visit Sam often, but he usually shoos me away and claims that he procrastinated way too long and has to fix more things than expected. I believe that he procrastinates because it’s not uncommon for him to stroll in like he’s finished all of his work without a care in the world when I’ve been deep in the trenches of my own work.
But as much as I thought I’d enjoy having my own office, it’s a bit lonely, and I’m still adjusting to the silence.
Standing from my desk, my arms stretch overhead, and I walk to the door, deciding to take a walk around the floor. I’ve prepped and prepared the new and updated logos Tanner wants for the company and already made the announcement on social media that we’ll be making some big changes in terms of our online presentation, but I’m not feeling like my usual, overproductive self. Maybe it’s the change in weather, but I want to be tucked away at home under heaps of blankets rather than being at work.
I’ve thought about seriously committing to working from home, but for some reason, I can’t get myself to ask Tanner. It sounds dumb when I think about it—being too afraid to ask my boss to work from home—but something about it makes me uneasy. I know if I vocalized my concerns he’d listen, but I don’t fully trust myself around him. It might be because I actually feel things I’m not used to when he’s around, but I’m not ready to acknowledge any of it. So, avoiding him, and my work from home lifestyle, is the best option for now.
“Hey, Daisy!” A soft voice calls from my left. I glance over and find Tanner’s assistant, Kinsley, waving with a bright smile on her face as she leans forward in her chair. Her red hair flows voluptuously around her and is pulled into a half ponytail, her green eyes sparkling. Honestly, Kinsley doesn’t seem like a girl who fits in at the company, let alone working for our boss. She’s everything I wish I could be—sexy, fun, free, confident, and I’m envious of her for that. Her confidence is felt from a mile away, and she doesn’t let people bullshit her, which is one of the reasons I’ve learned to respect her.
The day Tanner was promoted, Kinsley and I chatted briefly about how she’d gotten into Moore Enterprises. Apparently, she walked up to Duncan, our old boss, during an outing he was on with his family and demanded to let her work for him because she just dropped out of college and was desperate for a job. He was hesitant to give her a position without an official trial run, so on her first day, she managed to cuss out another firm when she figured out they were coming to the meeting to try selling Duncan out of the business. When I asked her if that happened, she smirked and made a comment about how men don’t ever get questioned or accused for doing something wrong, and that what she was doing was minor.
I decided I liked her after that conversation.
“Hey, Kinsley,” I smile, trying to non-discreetly look into my boss’s office.
“He’s in a meeting with Beckett Levinston from LC,” she says from behind a smirk. My head jerks, and I whip it to her, completely forgetting any lingering thoughts I had.
“LC?” my gaze briefly flicks to his office before focusing on his receptionist again. “What is he doing talking to them?”
She shrugs, a lock of her red hair falling in front of her face. She tucks it dramatically behind her ear as if it’s an inconvenience and shrugs. “Beats me. Beckett and him supposedly are working through water under the bridge? I have no idea what that means, but whatever.”
I hum, leaning an elbow against her desk, feeling brave enough to turn and look into the office. I don’t know much about the history behind the competitiveness of LC, but I’ve heard through the grapevine that the company, owned by the Levinston’s, has been rivals with ours for years. I have no idea why, but I’m sure it’s just politics that are more dramatic than rational.
Tanner leans against the front of his desk with his hands shoved in his pockets, appearing like he’s listening intently. His gaze darts past Beckett and catches me, but he doesn’t smile as he usually does. He watches me with a seriousness that makes goosebumps race down my spine, and I force myself to stay focused on him, even when he intently nods at the man standing in front of him.
Tanner breaks our stare first as he pulls a hand from his pocket to grab the piece of paper Beckett holds out, his eyebrows dipping in concentration as his gaze narrows on the pages. He straightens momentarily and reaches behind him to grab a pair of glasses before sliding them over his face, and good lord almighty, it takes everything in me not to clutch my pearls.
“He’s hot, isn’t he?” Kinsley pipes up, causing me to jump and direct my focus on her again. “Huh?”
“Mr. Moore,” she wiggles her eyebrows playfully. “I said he’s hot.”
“Oh,” I stand straighter, forcing myself not to look at the man across the hallway. “He’s…alright, I guess.”
Kinsley snorts and shakes her head in disbelief. “Yeah, okay, and I’m the Pope.”
I make a face. “I—what?”
She waves me away with a smug smile. “Nothing, forget it. He should be out of his meeting in the next couple of minutes if you want to hang around.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay,” I say, making sure I’m aware of my surroundings. “I was just taking a break from my office and wanted to stretch my legs. I should be heading back anyway.”
The red-haired receptionist hums, a flicker of disbelief flashing in her eyes as she watches me push off the desk. I’m about to wave goodbye when she speaks up again. “He likes you, you know,” she says casually as she looks at her nails, seemingly more interested in them than the conversation. That, or she’s trying to make it not obvious that we’re talking about our boss.
“I would hope he likes me, seeing as I work for him,” I reply casually, not trying to give away any of the shock I’m experiencing. We’ve only talked in passing before our previous weekend’s hangout, and anything else prior to that wasn’t good.
Kinsley shakes her head. “You’re going to pretend that it’s not somewhat obvious? Dude will constantly find ways to ask about you in passing. It’s kind of cute,” she says.
I can’t decide if Kinsley is the type of girl you can trust with your secrets, and the thought of sharing anything personal with somebody I don’t know makes my chest squeeze tight with anxiety so intense I want to sprint from the room. Instead, I shrug a shoulder casually and start turning on my heel. Before I make it a footstep away, Tanner’s office door opens, and the CEO of LC. steps out with Tanner following.
“Poker at mine Friday?” he shakes Tanner’s hand, both men smiling.
“You’ve got a deal,” Tanner replies. “Just don’t tell Dad we’re friends.”
Beckett snorts, his brunette hair falling slightly in front of his face as he shakes his head. “Long as you don’t say shit to mine, either.”
“Deal.”
When the men drop hands, Tanner’s eyes catch mine again, and suddenly the room feels too cramped. I try as casually as possible to turn my head forward and begin my trek back to my office, but I can’t help but feel the stares of people watching me go.
Why do I hope one of them is Tanner’s?