3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Avery
This was not how my resignation was supposed to go. I didn't realize it before, but being laid off from my last job was far easier than dealing with a livid employer and my calculating grandmother. Because I don't believe for one hot minute that she didn't have this planned. Grandma likes her sleep too much. There's no way she would be up at four in the morning— especially while on a cruise in Japan—to call us unless she wanted to. Even if she suddenly decided to retire, why not wait for a more reasonable hour to tell us? No, she's up to something. In the meantime, I'm stuck with a shocked boss.
Holding my hands up in a soothing gesture, I approach him slowly. His nostrils are flaring with every breath, and my resignation letter shakes in his hand. “I didn't know she was planning that. I'll find someone else before I leave. Don't worry. Someone quiet, but who can still get your coffee right in the morning.”
“You're not leaving,” Spencer says—no, he growls at me.
“I’m starting a new job in two weeks, but I promise you will have another secretary before I leave.”
Something sparks in his eyes, the amber flecks growing brighter in the brown. He takes my upper arm in his big hand and walks me back around my desk, gently pushing me down into my chair.
Spencer grips the arms and spins me toward him, leaning over me.
My heart thumps hard in my chest as he cages me in. It's not fear I'm feeling. With his face so close to mine and his warm breath on my cheek, the clean, crisp scent of his skin swamping my senses, a flush spreads over my face and I'm squirming in my seat. The flutter of arousal grows stronger with every breath I take.
“You're staying.”
“But I—”
He gives a sharp shake of his head. “No arguments. No excuses. You're not leaving and that's final.”
“You can't hold me captive here and force me to—”
Those dark whisky eyes glitter dangerously, and his gaze moves down to my neck like he's considering wrapping his hands around it.
O-okay. Wrong tactic. I place my hands on his forearms—oh damn, those are muscled too—and rub gently. Clearly, my grandmother's retirement is a shock, and my resignation was too much for him. “Hey, it's going to be okay.”
He breaks away from me. “It will. Because this isn't happening. Call the other place and inform them you've changed your mind.”
I shoot to my feet. “You can't make that decision for me.”
He heads for the front door. “I can and I have. You're staying.”
I stomp after him. “Mr. Sullivan, you're being unreasonable. Tomorrow, you'll realize this is for the best. I'll find someone more like Grandma Dottie that won't reorganize your life and annoy you. Someone you'll actually like.”
He stops so fast that I bump into his solid back.
Spencer turns, looming over me. “You think I don't like you?”
“You know you don't.”
Suddenly, all emotion is gone from his face. He looks hard and unyielding, not showing an ounce of what he's thinking.
I take a step back. This is a side of Spencer I've never seen, and it scares me more than his anger.
“Miss Blackwood, I will expect you here at 8 am sharp tomorrow morning and every day after. You work for me until I say otherwise.”
He stalks out and slams the front door, leaving me gaping after him.
What the hell just happened?
It takes me a minute to find my phone, which Spencer left in his office. I try to reach grandma a couple times, but she doesn't answer. There's only one other person I can call. My brother knows grandma as well as I do. Maybe he can help me figure this mess out.
Because as much as I want to stay, it's not the job that keeps me here. It's the man, and nothing about that situation has changed. He wants a secretary, not me . He hasn't made any effort to get to know me.
I mean, the one time I thought there might be something more... My cheeks flame just thinking about it. A month ago, he was caught in an unexpected downpour. I had a towel waiting for him when he returned to the office. Nothing special. But the way he'd looked at me as he dried off, I felt that smoldering gaze all the way to my core.
Except whatever I thought I saw wasn't real. He barely looked up from the contract he was reading when I asked him out for coffee later that day. He couldn't have been more disinterested if he'd tried. I can't pretend this order is anything other than a man concerned about his business.
Flopping down into my chair, I dial Anson.
He answers on the second ring. “You okay?”
His rough voice always makes me smile. We fought like crazy as kids because of the nine-year age difference, but now, he's the one person I go to when the world feels like it's falling down. I hear the creak of a chair and the whistle of a bird in the background. “How's White Falls?”
He hums. “It's what I needed.”
My heart catches, thickening my throat. He sounds at peace. I was so scared for him for the last ten years. Our parents are good people, but they had definite ideas about what we should do with our lives. Unlike me, Anson rebelled and joined the Navy. He became a SEAL a few years later, and then one day, he disappeared. I didn't know where he was or even if he was okay.
He resurfaced almost a year ago, and though he refused to talk about where he'd been, the darkness in his eyes was like looking at a stranger. It didn’t matter to me. I had my brother back, and I wasn’t going to let him go for any reason.
He settled in a remote cabin not far from here, looking for solitude. Something haunts him. I can only hope he finds himself there in the mountains. “I'm glad,” I reply.
“Why don't you tell me why you really called? Maybe I can help.”
“I think grandma is planning to take over the world again.”
He snorts. “Wouldn't be the first time. Watch out for four-footed minions.”
“I'm cat-sitting one now.”
“Sucker.”
“You know just what to say to make me feel better, big bro.” He grunts, and it reminds me so much of Spencer that it hurts. I tell him about Grandma’s call coming on the same day as my resignation, and Spencer's reaction. There's a long pause when I finish.
“Anson?”
“I can't see a nefarious plan here unless she's trying to hook you up with her boss.”
“Oh. Oh, no, no, no. It can't be that.” The words rush out, so of course he pounces on them.
“Why not? Something wrong with him? Do I need to come by?”
“No!” I practically shout. That's the last thing I need. If I thought I was embarrassed when I asked out my boss, having my brother suddenly show up acting, well, brotherly , would be beyond mortifying.
“I know you. What's the real reason this is bothering you, Ava?”
He's the only person who calls me that. The nickname makes me crack and suddenly I'm spilling everything, including how much I like Spencer and that he turned me down for a date.
Being my brother, his reaction is classic. He laughs at me.
“It's not funny, you big jerk.”
“Ava, did you actually ask the man out? Or did you hint that maybe you wanted to see him?”
“I—I mean, of course I did.”
“You're such a girl. Men like a direct question. If you want this man, ask him to dinner. Not a suggestion, not a maybe. Direct.”
Can I do that? Can I really ask him a second time? What if he says no again?
“Then you'll know for sure and can move on to this other job that you don't want.”
Crap. Did I ask that out loud? I wrap my arm around my waist and bend over until my head touches my knees. “I do want the job.”
“No, you don't.”
“How do you know what I want and don't want?”
“I'm smarter than you.”
I huff a laugh. “You wish.”
Anson's tone softens. “How's your writing?”
I sit up straight, mouth agape. “What?” How does he know about that? I haven't told a soul about my dream of being an author and seeing my name on a book cover one day. This time in Hope Peak is to see if I can even make that dream a reality before I tell anyone.
“Your heart was never in technology, or whatever shit Mom and Dad wanted you to do. You may have the degree, but I bet you were relieved when the company laid you off.”
I was. I didn't tell anyone that either. “Are you spying on me?” It's a legitimate question.
“I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.”
“Ha ha. Bad spy humor.” I'm grinning despite myself. Then, “It's good. The writing, I mean. I am halfway through my first book. The characters are getting to know each other—”
“Having sex. You can say it.”
“—and I like the plot. I've even found an online group of other romance authors. Who knows? Maybe I could publish it for fun?” I can't even begin to guess how he knows I'm writing a romance. I'm a little afraid to ask.
“Don't let anyone tell you what's right for your life, Ava. Go after what you want. I promise you, life is too short to do otherwise.” Sadness laces his voice.
I want to ask him who he lost, but I already know he won’t answer. “Thanks, big bro.”
After hanging up, I move to the window in Spencer's office that overlooks the enormous house being built. My soon to be ex-boss is pointing at some plans, then the second floor, a scowl on his face. I want that grouchy man. I'm just not sure if I can risk the heartache if he turns me down a second time.