Chapter 9
Olivia
I miss your meal plans. I haven’t made a grocery shopping list in forever. Can you send me a screenshot of yours?
Me
How will that work? What if we’re not out of the same stuff?
Olivia
I just need it as like a makeshift outline.
ALSO what are you making for dinner next week?
Apparently being a consultant for the Sweet River City Department meant I have lots of meetings on my schedule and an inbox full of emails from Adam and other employees—but mostly Adam cc’ing me on everything.
Adam immediately took advantage of my new employment status to win brownie points with old donors and vendors who had been hesitant after being reached out to by someone without the last name Rhodes. Which led to a lot of group calls where I assured people I would still be there to hold their hand. I admitted to lots of them that I needed them there to hold my hand, too. I had spent my whole life with Grandma running the show, I’d only been doing this without her for a few years. Adam was on the calls, too, quietly listening in.
Many of these phone calls were done while lounging in my pajamas with a big mug of coffee at my kitchen table and a cat bumping against my legs. I couldn’t see Adam during those calls, but I imagined him sitting there in his office with his tie tied tight, judging my unprofessional dialogue. Rolling his eyes every time I promised hugs to old friends or told them I loved them before we hung up.
I had gotten used to emails and phone calls. Keeping everything virtual put my anxiety about working with him at a nice low hum I could ignore in the background like radio static.
It felt different the morning of our first in-person meeting as coworkers. I was jittery and dreading it, promising myself I would be professional and play nice. I drug my feet from my house to City Hall.
The June sun outside was tentatively bright like it was warming up for July. Clouds peppered the blue sky. It made the air-conditioned office air joltingly cold as I walked through the office doors.
If Adam had any jitters from working with me, he hid them well. He greeted me casually when I walked in and waved me over to the chairs in front of his desk as he finished typing something on his phone.
I tapped my foot impatiently. My gaze lingered on his tie, which hung looser than I’d imagined. The walls in his office were light blue, his desk a cherry wood that matched the bookshelves lining the wall to the left of us. I wondered if the books were his own or if they belonged to City Management. My eyes went to the window behind him. Trees rustling in the breeze vibrantly green.
He tossed his phone aside, putting his sights on me and I hated that it gave me a rush. He briskly began our meeting, putting a paper copy of the agenda he’d emailed me earlier in my hands. No small talk, straight to business.
Around half an hour into the meeting and a couple of bullet points down the agenda, Adam noticed me rubbing my arms in the chilly air. “Is it too cold for you?” he asked, concerned.
I shook my head, but he squinted at the goosebumps on my arms. “You can admit to being cold. I might, I don’t know, try to help.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine.”
He popped out of his office for a beat then came back. “I changed the air; it should warm up here in a bit.” Then he threw me a sweatshirt. “And I grabbed this for you.”
It was an oversized Sweet River City Hall sweatshirt. He probably grabbed it from a stash in some supply closet.
I slipped it on and it immediately smelled like fresh laundry, bergamot, and—I took another sniff—a hint of peppermint. The scent was so good and so strong. Someone had obviously worn this before.
I swallowed. Was this his sweatshirt? He does love peppermint lattes. I would never have put this on if I had known. I tried to actively not like the scent. My body wanted to burrow deeper into the coziness and the aroma, but I sat up straight and went back to discussing how to properly label files and a bunch of other new rules the festival needed to abide by to “keep on top of things” as Adam kept saying.
“I liked the old way we kept files for the record,” I murmured as I played with the wristband of the sweatshirt.
“Are you sure this isn’t your pride? You needing to have it your way because you only trust your way?” Adam asked from behind his desk.
“My pride? What do you know about my pride after two encounters with me?” I lifted my brows.
“Four, if you count your romantic evening with Victor and when you gave me the green light on Love Local. And I definitely count that green light.” He clicked something with his mouse.
“That green light was from my sisters. That wasn’t me. They took my phone,” I said in some attempt to retain my dignity.
His face immediately fell. Something like disappointment flashed across his face. But, within seconds, he was talking about spreadsheets again.
I was paying attention to the spreadsheets…but I was also thinking how I could easily figure out if this sweatshirt was Adam’s. I would just need to smell him. And there he sat a mere few feet from me. Waiting to be sniffed. I attempted leaning in toward his desk while we spoke, but it wasn’t close enough.
At one point he opened a photo on his desktop when we made it to the layout of the festival bullet point of the agenda, so I decided to take this opportunity to get closer to him.
I walked over behind his desk, acting like I needed to see the photo better.
“Oh, hello there,” he said as I scooted in beside him, shoulder to shoulder.
“Let me take a peek,” I said, squinting my eyes at the screen.
“Okay,” he said slowly, leaning away from me so I could get a better view of the screen.
“Interesting,” I murmured, turning toward him so I could get a better whiff, but it was difficult since he was pulling away.
“Yes?” he said as I leaned in toward him, trying to seem casual.
“What are your thoughts?” I attempted to play it off as if I was leaning in so we could discuss it.
“That you’re being weird?” He pinned me down with his gaze.
“What are your thoughts about this photo?” I pointed at the screen, ignoring his comments because I was already in this deep.
“My thoughts are that it’s a nice aerial view of the space…” he said, scooting in closer to the screen so he could look at it as he spoke.
Victory. We were shoulder to shoulder again. I took a subtle sniff. But it was kind of hard to tell with the sweatshirt. Was I smelling him or was the sweatshirt mingling with his scent?
Maybe I should’ve given up at this point. But I needed to know if I could savor this sweatshirt or if I would be reveling in Annoying Adam. I was committed.
“Do you think this space is big enough?” I asked and began to slip the shirt over my head.
His eyes dropped down my body, down my shoulders and hips, but then he quickly averted his eyes and peered at the screen, cheeks pink. “Well, Lucy, it’s the allotted area we have. Are you proposing we need more space?”
I leaned back in toward the screen as if to assess the photo, putting my face right up beside his.
The peppermint, the fresh scent I couldn’t quite place, was all even stronger and better when I was up close to him.
It was definitely his sweatshirt I’d been wearing. How delicious it would be to burrow into his chest during a hug if he wasn’t the frustratingly, smug man I was forced to work with.
“Lucy?” he said, our eyes connecting. Faces still side by side.
“Hmm?” I was dangerously close to reveling in being this near to Adam.
“The space?”
I snapped back to reality. “Yes. No. The size is fine.” I took a step back. “I was just curious if you didn’t like it since you don’t really like how we’ve been doing things.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I hired you, Lucy. I created a whole contract to get you to work with me. I obviously like some of the things you were doing.”
“You hired me back because you needed me, not because you wanted me.”
“The fact I need you doesn’t negate how much I want you,” he said coolly, but it made my cheeks hot.
I ignored his comment, returning to my seat across from his desk. As if it didn’t make my stomach flip to hear him say I want you. We went over some of his plans for modernizing the process and marketing strategies.
And they were really good ideas. Impressive ideas. His voice dripped with enthusiasm as he spoke.
He kept asking, “What do you think?” and “Anything to add?” But I couldn’t say anything. There was no opening for any snippy comments. There was barely any opening for me to make any comments because so much of it felt over my head.
I had spent most of my previous time with Adam in defense mode, so I hadn’t seen him actually doing his job. He was good at it. He was passionate about it. He would loosen his tie when he got excited, so now it was hanging low down his chest. He was undeniably excited about the festival and Sweet River.
Then, as if my thoughts couldn’t be too complimentary of Adam for long, I started to question: why was I even in this room?
He obviously knew this information was out of my league. It’s why he tried to shake me off the festival in the first place. What if he didn’t mean it when he said he needed me? Instead bringing me onto the team to rub in my face everything I should’ve and could’ve been doing when I was in charge?
Because to my deep embarrassment, there was a lot I could’ve been doing. Should’ve been doing. I felt my cheeks, my chest, my arms all going red remembering how I fought him truly believing I was the best choice to lead this festival.
I put the sweatshirt back on and buried myself inside of it. Who cared if it was his? I was cold and wanted to hide. And you know what? I could enjoy how good he smelled without enjoying him.
He started to stack up his files. “I think that’s all for today. Unless you have anything to add?”
“No, I’m good,” I said and began to reach for my bag.
“Lucy, are you okay?” Concern creased his brow.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” I brushed off his comment and stood up.
“Are you sure? You were really quiet most of the meeting. I haven’t known you very long, but it wasn’t what I was expecting. I was expecting copious feedback. Tons of pushback. Maybe some snippy comments.” He stood up behind his desk.
“Really? Were you expecting anything from me? Because it seems to me you have it all figured out. I didn’t hear anywhere I was needed.”
“What did I say that gave you that idea?” He stepped around his desk, apologetic.
“You didn’t say anything that gave me that idea. Or maybe it was everything you said. It wasn’t you; it was me. This meeting really proved how the past several years I’ve been doing everything wrong.” I let my hair fall over my face in shame.
He let out a big laugh. “Wow, what kind of wild ride am I on? How can the most stubborn woman who fought me over every detail of a silly contract and was dead set that she knew what was right for this festival, so much so that she convinced me of it, be standing in front of me after having zero input all morning, telling me she did everything wrong?”
I shrugged. “I would’ve thought you’d be relieved.”
“No, I’m not relieved. I hired you because I want your help. I want your insight. I want all the feedback, pithy comments and all. I don’t think anything about how you do things is wrong.” I hated the fact that part of me had needed to hear him say that. Hated that he seemed to know I needed to hear it, too.
“Adam, the changes you’re making are things I would never have thought to do. You knew that from the jump, right? They’re great. Like, what do you need from me?”
“Ah, I get it.” Adam tapped his fist against his desk. “You’re scared.”
I pulled the sweatshirt sleeves over my hands. “You think you scare me?”
“I think you like to be the best at things. That’s probably why you like to be in charge. Having the power in a situation is the safest option. Instead, today you were in a meeting where I’m the expert on things. Which is why we’re doing this fifty-fifty.” He leaned against his desk. “Today it was my turn to be the expert. You saw that I know some stuff you don’t. That’s a good thing, even if it’s scary.”
I went to argue, but it hit me that I was used to spending my time with a bunch of kindergarteners, year after year, where I am the boss and I know exactly the best way to run the room. For most of my life I got to sit comfy in the position of control.
Maybe it made me feel safe.
What didn’t feel safe was the way Adam was studying me.
“Lucy, all these phone calls I’ve sat on with you lately, I was the odd man out and you were the expert. I had to swallow my pride and embrace all the invaluable knowledge you bring to the work we’re doing.”
“Some of what you’re saying is true. This meeting felt new to me. It was shocking to think—oh, was I supposed to be doing things like this all along?” I mindlessly toyed with the fresh daisies in the glass vase on his desk in front of me. “I like these,” I said quietly.
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“I honestly felt really out of my element during this meeting.” I let out a release of breath.
“Hey, I’m sure our first conversations haven’t given you a very comforting start. You’re probably questioning me?—”
“I might’ve been wondering if you were scheming to rub in my face how much better you are at running the festival than me,” I admitted.
“No, no. I’m not some movie villain.” Adam shook his head. “I brought you on because the team needs you. And while we’re doing a lot of things in a new way, it doesn”t mean I’m judging all the ways you used to do things.”
He really was in his element. He even had a water bottle in his hand that he was waving around for emphasis.
“Okay, well, thanks for the pep talk.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “First meeting is now adjourned.”
“Well, wait, actually…” He took a few more steps until we were only standing a couple of feet apart, nothing between us. “I was going to go do some research during lunch, if you want to join?”
Outside the doors of this office was an escape from the weird feelings and tension Adam bubbled to my surface. Sweet freedom just steps away. Yet, I couldn’t resist asking, “What kind of research?”
“Vendor research,” he said.
“As in?”
“As in a taco truck is offering us free tacos to sample for the festival. If we like it, we can sign them.”
I bit my lip.
“You are 50 percent of the taco judging panel.”
I tried to come up with a reason to turn down free tacos, but there were none.