Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
I turned around, but he was gone. The door to a room on the far side was slightly ajar. I let out the breath that had been trapped by my malfunctioning heart.
It was really better if I didn’t know.
I followed him into the room. He’d unpacked the tins. I touched the side of the one left for me, and it was surprisingly hot to the touch. He sat down and stabbed at his food with a plastic fork.
“I think you have mine.” I wanted to cut my damn tongue off. Who cared? I’d pretty much eat anything from a Thai place.
“Evidently, we have the same taste in Thai, Ms. Copeland.”
“Oh.” I pried the cover off and moaned at the scent. Sitting at the tiny condiments table would be rude, so I followed him to the conference table. A screen on the far end of the room told me it was probably for showing off some important movie about how awesome Carson Covenant Inc. was.
I took the complimentary chopsticks and sat down across from him. “So, am I to assume you’ve been working in second gear, and I should be very afraid?”
He peered up from his food, the slashing dark brows still furrowed. A muscle in his jaw flexed. “I’ve been without a secretary?—”
“Assistant.”
The muscle in his jaw jumped again. I shouldn’t poke the bear, but I couldn’t help it. Not when he was all buttoned up and trying to eat pad Thai noodles with a fork. I clicked my chopsticks at him. “Much easier.”
“I don’t use them.”
“Don’t use them or don’t know how?”
“There’s a difference?”
His voice was icy and made me want to poke at him all the more. I got the feeling that people were afraid of him. Part of me was as well, but evidently, I’d drowned that bit of self-preservation this morning.
Or maybe it was the six bottles of Pepsi Max over quota for the day. Whatever it was, my foot bounced under the table as I scooped up the thinly sliced chicken and tilted my head to eat it as daintily as possible.
He swore when his fork snapped.
I stuck my chopsticks in my food and stood up. I rummaged into the bag.
“I don’t know how to use them,” he said through his teeth.
“Now, now. You can learn.” I snapped them apart and rolled a rubber band off my wrist. I habitually put them there for either my hair or when I was working in my shop. They were good for holding glass in a lead channel. I wrapped it around the end and handed them to him.
“Isn’t this what you do for a child?”
“It’s a learning tool, Mr. Carson. There’s no age limit on learning a manual task.”
His nostrils flared, but he picked them up.
I plucked mine out of my noodles and showed him. “See? All you need is a little opening and then you can —there you go.”
He picked up a wad of noodles, and they fell free before he got them to his lips.
I laughed.
He answered with those raven-dark brows snapping even lower.
“I’m sorry. I’m just remembering when…” I swallowed and let my words trail off. I remembered the cold winter day my grandmother had taught me how to eat with them. It had been a simple bowl of ramen at the time, but she was determined to show me.
“When…”
I cleared my throat. “Not important. Noodles are easy. It’s rice that’s hard. Try again.” I clicked the tips together.
This time, he managed to get few noodles in his mouth. After five minutes, he was far more dexterous and packed away half the tray.
Remembering my grandmother dampened my appetite a little, but I knew I needed the fuel. I managed to eat half of mine as my boss finished off his.
He stood. “Do you want to save this?”
I shook my head.
He took my tray and dumped both of them into the bag with the chopsticks. “I have three phone calls from the West Coast. I’ll need your help.”
I nodded and rose. “More spreadsheets?”
“Among other things. There’s a folder full of details under Donovan Lewis.”
Why was that name familiar?
“He’s based in California, but he has a New York City base, as well. He’s an important client. I need to make sure the meeting goes well. If he likes our work, then it will open up a client base in the Los Angeles music scene.”
I followed him out. “I’m not up with the music scene, but I don’t think that’s why I know his name.”
“He’s a venture capitalist. You might know him from a few of the startup companies he’s been involved with. Most recently the car app that everyone uses in the city.”
“Oh.” I’d definitely used that app a time or twelve.
“Yes. He’s a wealthy and connected man. I need to make sure all the data I have is up-to-date and correct. So, for the rest of the afternoon, I need you to verify that my research is still valid. I pulled the data ten days ago.”
“And you think it will be out of date?”
He held the door open. “You’ll learn that in the security business, one day is out of date, Ms. Copeland.”
The gallantry was going to be the end of me, I swore it. Just when I thought I was getting on an even keel with him, he was in my space. Today, the spicy scent outweighed the citrus. I didn’t know if that had anything to do with the food we’d just eaten, or it was his mood and temperament leaking through his pores.
I scooted through the door, making sure I didn’t touch any part of him this time. When I got to the stairwell, Jack was coming down.
“There you two are.”
Mr. Carson crowded into my back, and my whole body went hot. I tried to move, but Jack filled the landing. Two men over six feet tall was just too much male in a tiny stairwell. I tried to move to the side and only made it worse. My butt slid across the front of Mr. Carson’s slacks.
He went completely still behind me, and I could feel his breath along my ear. Good grief, had my knees actually turned to water? Or was that just the first stage to suicidal tendencies? The urge to toss myself out the window into the harbor was strong, because no.
No way was I going to be attracted to my boss on top of the clusterfuck of my life.
“Lewis’s assistant just called—he wants to know if we can move up the meeting to…” Jack lifted his hand to show his watch. “Now.”
“I haven’t even prepped Ms. Copeland about him.”
When he said my name like that… Yeah, that was going to follow me home and into the dark.
I moved around both men and started heading up the stairs. “What are you waiting for, gentlemen?” I looked down at both of them. Jack with his fallen angel good looks and Mr. Carson with his brooding nature lit by that little bit of warmth in his eyes.
Why, oh why, did I have to go for the brooder? Jack would have been the easier choice.
Mr. Carson’s fingers fisted around the bag as he tipped his head up to meet my gaze. His hazel eyes edged more into an aged scotch color right now. The kind that burned going down my throat and heated my belly.
Okay, the timing on my dormant sexuality was so far past inconvenient I couldn’t even put it into words. So, I ignored it.
Good plan.
I turned around and flew up the rest of the steps. I knew someone was behind me, but I kept moving forward. A hand slapped against the door before I could open it.
I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Mr. Carson.
“You don’t have your badge yet, Ms. Copeland.” His scent blanketed me and tossed my system into chaos. Like the storm coming off the water this morning, he was a cold front slapping into a warm one. The thunder was his voice, and I was the rocks trying desperately to hold out against the waves.
And the water was rising.