25. Travis
Travis
As a kid, I quickly learned that fidgeting is frowned upon.
Teachers at boarding school snapped rulers on the desk when you bounced your leg.
My nanny demanded we “sit up straight and be still.” And my father made it perfectly clear to me that fidgeting of any kind—tugging on your clothes, shifting in your seat, clearing your throat—would be interpreted as a weakness in any social interaction.
So I’ve become the kind of man able to hold myself completely still.
That is, until it comes to Serena MacKenzie.
I’ve been very aware of the fact that she’ll be in the office today since I saw her name appear on the shared calendar. Apparently, she’s helping the marketing department edit some photos from other campaigns to match the tone of the new website for the Onyx Hotel brand.
My first instinct was to call out of the office. I’m the CEO—I can do whatever I want. There’s nobody to call me on it.
But beyond my hesitance to interrupt my schedule for the day, there’s another reason I can’t just stay home.
My brother is coming into the office to talk to me about his plans for the non-profit, and I can’t cancel on Graham.
You never know the next time the man will be flying off to Thailand to search for a rare flower, or to Brazil to source coffee for his charity-funding subscription service.
So I’m here. And I feel like my body is buzzing like a chainsaw.
All because of Serena.
Even out of the country, I couldn’t bring myself to lay a hand on another woman. I wanted to, wanted to move on and be with someone else. But my interest was simply… gone. My body knew what it wanted, and it wasn’t any of the gorgeous locals flirting with me.
Because I’m a masochist, I get a notification when her badge scans into the system. I sit in my chair, imagining her path through the building. I see her on the elevator, saying good morning to someone, walking down the hallway, speaking with Henry, our creative director.
Then, as though operated by some foreign remote, my hand reaches for the phone.
“Mr. Oakley,” Dianne says, chipper as always. “What can I do for you?”
“Call down to marketing. Ask them to send Serena MacKenzie to my office.”
Dianne pauses for a fraction of a moment—before she clears her throat and says, “Right away, sir.”
I hang up the phone, spinning in my chair. It was a good idea to hire Dianne—who is more organized than a woman who raised seven kids and held a part-time job at the same time? She came in on the heels of her divorce, declaring she wanted to reboot her life.
At first, I wasn’t interested—I had a long list of executive assistant candidates who were much younger and more credentialed than she was—but she was insistent. Asked me for just one day to prove herself.
So I gave it to her. And she blew me away.
Not only was she organized, but she was more intimidating than the younger people I typically hired.
Which meant she was able to handle calls and send time-sucks in the other direction.
All my files were meticulous now. Dianne was even able to teach me a thing or two about our office technology.
“Travis.”
I emerge out of my thoughts, looking up to find Serena standing in the doorway to my office. In fact, she’s glaring at me, but I’m so happy to see her that my brain doesn’t seem to register her anger.
“Serena,” I manage to say in a professional tone. “Thanks for coming up.” I pause, grappling for a reason to have called for her, beyond just wanting to see her face. “Due to your skills and diligence, I’d like to offer you a full-time position at Onyx.”
She blinks, lets out a puff of laughter, and says, “Yeah, no thank you.”
That jolts me out of my professional facade. I lean forward, tilting my head at her. “No, thank you? I’m prepared to offer you a sizable salary. Plus, we have excellent benefits here.”
Serena gives me a little smug smile, “I’m sure you do.”
My eyes skip over her frame again, taking in her hair—loose and wavy—and her outfit—something green and vintage. It’s frustrating, but exhilarating, that she’s holding onto her anger over me leaving her in that hotel room. “You were drunk, Serena.”
“So you had to leave the country?” she asks, stepping into the room and raising an eyebrow. This time, I don’t have to get up. She pushes the door shut behind her.
It’s too fucking sexy.
“That was a business trip.”
“Don’t waste my time,” she growls, leaning in and bracing her hands on my desk. I feel my cock twitch. “If you want to talk about it, let’s talk. Otherwise, I’m more than happy to go back to the marketing department and get my work done.”
I suck in a breath. I can’t talk about it. How could I possibly admit to her how much I want her? If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you should never let the universe know what you love. It will certainly be taken from you.
Still, I open my mouth, lace my fingers together, and stare up at her, “Serena, I?—”
“Serena?”
She startles, blinking rapidly at the man in the doorway.
“Ryan.” I stand, clear my throat, tug on my cuffs, and face my best friend. Way too much fidgeting. “What are you doing here?”
Get yourself together, Oakley…
He gives me a look, “I’m here for the meeting? We’re catering?” he adjusts, looking at Serena, and a smile skates over his face. “What are you doing here?”
Serena is blushing furiously now, glancing between the two of us, her throat working. I cross my arms, glare at Ryan, “She works for me. How do you know her?”
He raises his eyebrows. Now we’re both looking at Serena, “I hired her, too. She’s photographed a couple of my events. Worth every penny.”
Those words are dripping with meaning. Worth every penny.
“Travis, I—” Serena stammers, turning from me and back to Ryan, clearly also sensing the meaning hidden behind those words. “Ryan. I didn’t know the two of you?—”
But she doesn’t get to finish whatever she was going to say, because there’s yet another person walking into my office.
“Sorry I’m late,” Graham says, his head bent over his phone as he walks in. “Fucking traffic.” Then he looks up, stops in his tracks, the door only half-shut behind him. Somehow, his deep voice goes even lower when he says, “Serena?”
Usually, I’m good in a tense situation. Good with a confrontation. But right now, all I want to do is throttle Ryan, force my brother out of the office, and ask Serena what the hell is going on. Why are my brother and my best friend so familiar with her? How do they even know her fucking name?
Ryan beats me to the punch, chuckling, dropping down into a seat, crossing his legs and saying casually, “Well, what a little pickle we have ourselves in here.”