28. Now
TWENTY-EIGHT
now
“Ella?”
Snapping to, I straighten in my desk chair and try to blink the blur out of my eyes. After sobbing into my pillow over my Grayson sighting, I spent a sleepless night snared in a horrible recurring nightmare. And barely made it to work Friday morning.
When I swivel my chair, Parker is standing on the other side of my desk. The remnants of a smile warm his lips, but his blonde brows fold over his glasses as he takes in my expression. “Are you all right?”
I swallow past a scratchy throat and force an answering smile. “Yeah! I just spaced out for a second there. Did you need my help with anything?”
Parker’s grin rebounds. He produces a cold brew coffee with a flourish, setting it in front of me. “I just wanted to see you and bring you this.”
A pang of guilt hits my heart. I cried over another man half the night and this sweet guy brought me a coffee .
Not that I’m not grateful… frankly, I’ve never needed caffeine quite so desperately.
“Do I look that bad?” I quip, taking a gulp. It’s pumpkin spice, which I normally don’t like—but I can’t afford to be picky. Besides, the gesture really means a lot to me. In theory.
“No,” he replies instantly, still smiling. “You look gorgeous.”
I don’t think my navy sheath dress and scuffed nude heels can really be described as “gorgeous,” and Lord knows my face needs some blush and mascara. Since I just about scraped my hair into a bun, and I haven’t even attempted makeup.
Parker helps himself to the corner of my desk, settling there with his own cup of coffee. My sluggish mind whirs, envisioning the picture we present.
“Do you think it’s a good idea?” I fret out loud. “For us to be… chatting? At the office?”
His lips tilt up at the corners as his hazel eyes run loops over my face. “I wanted to talk to you about that, actually. I know Marjorie is aware that we’ve decided to see each other outside of work. She seemed fine with it. Would you be opposed to other people knowing?”
A sharp barb of anxiety pokes at my stomach. “I haven’t looked up any of the rules in the handbook. I honestly never thought I’d need them.”
Fondness fills his features. “You know, I actually believe that. Despite you being beautiful and a total catch.”
His amusement fades slightly as he casts his eyes down at his Starbucks cup. “The rules are pretty simple for inter-office relationships. Obviously, we would have to adhere to professional decorum at all times. An d as the senior employee, I would fill out a form for HR.”
Of all the days to have brain fog. “A form…?”
He misunderstands my confusion for reluctance. “Not right now,” he rushes to assure me. “I mean, we’ve only been out once.”
“And you’re seeing other people.”
The thought pops out before I can censor it. Luckily, my tone falls somewhere just north of observational.
Even still, Parker clears his throat. His hands fidget with the sleeve on his cup as he rambles, “I was. Well, I mean, I was going to . And I was dating someone else , too. Before. So I was, and I was going to, again, this weekend, but then I went out with you, and now, I?—”
He interrupts himself with a smirk, shooting me a playful, accusatory look. “You make me nervous,” he admits. “First, I spent our whole lunch talking about my stupid self, and now, I can’t figure out how to tell you that I’ve canceled my plans with any other women so I can focus on us. Because I could tell the idea of me dating other girls made you uncomfortable when it came up earlier.”
The look in his eyes heats my cheeks while he adds, “But, also, because I really like you, Ella. A lot.”
Flashes of my nightmare and my stalking expedition to Stryker & Sons streak through my thoughts. My face crumples at the memories.
“You don’t know me very well,” I whisper. “I would hate for you to miss out on other opportunities and wind up disappointed.”
Pure warmth fills the curve of his lips. “That’s how I know I won’t be—you’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. I’ve never heard you say anything mean or negative or thoughtless. I’ve seen how intelligent you are. You work hard. Everyone loves you.”
He leans closer as if imparting a secret. “And did I mention you are gorgeous?”
Grayson used to call me gorgeous. He whispered the word to me while we made love, d ropped it into the crook of my neck with kisses whenever he passed me in the kitchen, and murmured it into my palm whenever he nuzzled there.
And the sad truth is: I don’t want another man to say it to me.
Is that it, then? Do I just go through my whole life alone? Turning down sweet, handsome men like Parker until, eventually, they stop noticing me? All because the thought of being close to anyone but Grayson Stryker makes my heart ache?
A knot tangles my throat, leaving my words watery. “Thank you. It’s just… Thank you.”
Blessedly, he doesn’t hear the tears in my voice. Another wide smile stretches across his square features. “So, a proper date tomorrow night? Dinner at eight? No dessert?”
I nod, forcing out one last weak smile. “Just text me the details.”