Chapter Seven
AFTER THAT FUN FIRST DAY, the rest of the week was less interesting, thank goodness.
Mr. Greyson and I didn’t avoid each other, but we both seemed to make it a point to spend as little time together as possible, which was A-Okay in my book.
When we did have to be in each other’s presence, it was filled with that forced politeness that makes everyone uncomfortable.
I could tell this worried Boss, but I assured him it would all get ironed out as we got used to one another.
It was a big fat fib, but I wanted Boss to be able to enjoy retirement.
To help Boss feel better, I took my licks, in a matter of speaking, and then nursed my wounds at home.
And there seemed to be plenty every day.
Mr. Greyson had suggestions for everything from my PowerPoints to the way I formatted my proposals.
They weren’t really suggestions; he expected them to be to his liking and specifications.
I think he kept looking for me to fight back, and believe me I wanted to, but I figured what good would it do?
When Friday rolled around, Boss moved all his personal belongings out of the big office and Mr. Greyson moved in.
I couldn’t help it, I cried. I was losing my mentor and champion.
I felt like an idiot crying in the office for the world to see, but it had been a rough week, and now reality was really setting in.
As Boss held me, Delfia and Mr. Greyson looked on, concerned.
Boss kissed my head. “Make me proud, kiddo.”
I sniffled and nodded.
“You always have.” He gave me a good squeeze.
More tears came. Would it be shameful if I grabbed onto his legs and begged him not to leave?
Boss let me go, turned toward Mr. Greyson, and shook his hand. “Well Ian, I trust I’m leaving my company in good hands. I expect nothing less than greatness and high profit margins.” Boss looked between him and me, before sternly saying to Mr. Greyson, “Ian, don’t forget our earlier conversation.”
Mr. Greyson focused on me. “You have my word.”
I wondered what that cryptic conversation was about. Delfia looked perplexed too.
Boss hugged me one more time. “Well, I guess I’m off.” He waved to everyone. “See you all next weekend.” He and Holly were leaving the next morning for Cancun, but they were coming back next weekend for his retirement party.
As soon as Boss was out of sight, I went to my office, closed the door, and cried a little more. I was terrible with change, and this had been a week of nothing but change, and not the good kind either.
Amid my mourning, there was a knock on the shared door. No one ever knocked on that door. Boss and I had an open-door policy. I wiped away the last straggling tears. “Come in,” I called out.
Mr. Greyson took a moment to look at me before he spoke. His eyes were softer than I had seen them in days. “Would you join me in my office? I would like to get your opinion on the new company logo,” he asked kindly.
“You want my opinion?”
“Why does that surprise you?”
“Is that a trick question?”
“Ms. Bryant, please.”
I stood and walked toward his office. He smiled with lips pressed together as I neared him. He waited for me at the door and held it open. When I passed him, he touched my shoulder and I stopped.
“I know this is a difficult transition for you and I’m sorry.”
I half smiled and shrugged my shoulders.
It was a nice gesture. I hadn’t been this close to him in years.
I got another glimpse of my Ian, but this time it lasted more than just a few seconds.
Neither of us moved as we searched each other’s eyes.
He kept his hand on my shoulder. The feel of it wasn’t lost on me.
My body said, Ahhh, isn’t this nice, but my head said, Girl, get your head in the game.
“Are you ready to show me the prototypes?” I asked, once out of my brief stupor.
He dropped his hand slowly and cleared his throat. “Please, have a seat.”
He had already changed the office around.
Boss’s desk used to face the adjoining door, like mine.
But Ian had it facing the door toward the reception area.
He also added some pictures of the Colorado landscape.
They were breathtaking. As I looked at them, I thought someday I really should go back and visit that place.
I loved living there. The Colorado mountain scenery was second to none.
One picture particularly caught my attention.
It was of the hot springs near his parents’ home.
I had fond memories of that place. During Thanksgiving break, Mr. Greyson, aka Ian, took me there.
We spent a very enjoyable day in each other’s arms with the steam rising all around us and the snow lightly falling down.
Just the thought made me blush. I had needed some hefty amounts of Chapstick and lotion after that day, but it had been well worth it.
The man was an expert kisser. His kisses always conveyed what mood he was in.
That day had been one of those rare Ian moments where his mind wasn’t wrapped around fifty different things.
He had let go that day and only let us occupy his thoughts.
I think it was the first day he finally gave himself permission to really let me in and see the real him.
It was the day he said to heck with what everyone would say about our age difference; he wanted to be with me, and so he was going to be.
I came out of my memory to find Mr. Greyson smiling at me. I nervously tucked my hair behind my ear. “Nice pictures,” I said lamely before I took my seat.
He looked to his right at the picture I had just been admiring. “That’s my favorite.”
I wanted to say, “Mine too,” but that was ridiculous. He probably didn’t even remember that day, and if he did, I didn’t want him to know I remembered it. I’m sure it was his favorite because it reminded him of his home.
“Ok, so logos,” I said.
“Yes, logos.” He took his seat.
He turned his monitor toward me and showed me three different designs.
Right away I abhorred two of them. I wasn’t sure who had done the design, but tacky was putting it nicely.
The third design had some promise. I homed in on that one.
“I think the C in Chandler should be more prominent, and it would look better if the letters were more rounded and in lower case. And personally, I would increase the font size by two,” I suggested.
“Those changes would make it feel cleaner and more modern. It would encompass the new direction of our company.”
He looked at me thoughtfully when I finished my suggestions.
I raised my left brow. “Surprised again?”
“As always, when it comes to you.”
“I’ll let that slide.”
“I meant it as a compliment.”
I stood. “You might want to work on that.” I smiled at him before I could stop myself.
I walked back to my office and downed my bottle of water while I thought of all the reasons I disliked my new boss, because it was better than picturing him shirtless, with my arms around him, kissing him until my lips threw up a white flag and surrendered.
And what was I doing using my flirty voice there at the end of our conversation? I think it was time for me to go home.
It was my plan to take the weekend and unwind.
I was thinking a marathon weekend of cheesy Netflix movies and ordering-in was the ticket.
That seemed to work well on Friday night, but I got up on Saturday feeling crappy about stuffing myself the night before and lying lazily on the couch with Charlie, so I figured I better get my butt to the Y and maybe do some grocery shopping.
Walking outside reminded me it was March, and boy was it coming in like a lion. The rain was coming down in sheets. As I ran to my car, I noticed a moving truck. I felt sorry for whoever had to move in this weather.
After hitting it hard at the Y, I was feeling less like a slug and more like myself. It helped me make better choices when I went to the grocery store. Well, mostly, I needed some chocolate after the week I’d had.
When I returned to my complex, the rain was still coming down. My sister’s words rang in my head, “You could have an attached garage if you would only buy a home.” Yeah, but how lonely would a big empty house be with only Charlie and me?
I took heroic efforts to carry all my grocery bags in at once, even forgoing my umbrella.
I figured I was showering when I got home anyway.
On my walk in, I noticed the moving truck was still there, along with two soaked movers.
I hoped they were getting a good tip. As someone was moving in, the gate was open.
Gratefully I didn’t have to maneuver it with full arms and hands, but I quickly became ungrateful as I literally ran into him.
You know, the him who was causing regular disruption in my life as of late. Yeah, that him.
I stood there stunned, staring at him, rain dripping down my face. “Mr. Greyson, at the risk of becoming redundant, what are you doing here?”
He flashed me a sly grin before sharing his large umbrella with me. I had to admit that was gentlemanly. He was even more of a gentleman when he reached for my bags. “Let me help you with those.”
I instinctively pulled away from him. “No, thank you.” I repeated my question, “Why are you here?” Then a terrible realization hit me before he even spoke.
“Kelli, as of today, I live here.”
I shook my head no. “No, you don’t,” I stuttered.
His brown eyes danced with amusement.
“Please tell me you’re kidding,” I begged.
He wouldn’t say it. All he did was continue to smile at me. Why wouldn’t he say this was some kind of sick prank? I began walking toward my apartment in a zombie like trance. How could this be happening?
Ian followed me, keeping the rain off of me as I went.
I couldn’t speak, but if I could have, I would have told him to hit the road. There were also a bunch of other things I would have liked to say, too, but they may have burned my own ears off.
I dropped my bags when we made it to my door and fished my key out of my pocket. “Thank you, Mr. Greyson. I’ve got it from here.”
“Are you ever going to call me Ian again?”
“Nope. I think Mr. Greyson fits you.”
He frowned and pressed his lips together. “Kelli . . .”
I opened my door and pushed it open as quickly as I could, trying to ignore the shiver it gave me when he said my name so tenderly. I grabbed a few bags, hoping Mr. Greyson would get the hint and skedaddle.
That was wishful thinking. He picked up the remainder of them with ease.
“I’ve got it,” I snapped more than I meant to.
“I’m sure you do.” He, on the other hand, was kinder than me. That was until he came right into my apartment uninvited. His audacity was stunning.
“I told you I don’t invite men into my apartment.”
“No, you said you didn’t invite in strangers, and we both know I’m not one and this isn’t the first time I’ve been in one of your apartments.” He looked around and grinned. “But this one is a lot nicer than the last one.”
I stared at him with my mouth wide open, not sure what to say.
Two weeks ago, I would have never in a million years imagined this could ever happen.
I finally managed to find my words again.
“Did you just wake up one morning and think, ‘I haven’t tortured Kelli Bryant in years, I need to get on that?’”
“You got me,” he said as he walked past me toward my kitchen. He set the grocery bags on my counter, turned around and strutted right back toward me.
All I could do was stand by my door and watch him.
He stopped to the side of me, leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “Or maybe this has nothing to do with you at all.”
Goose bumps erupted all over my body. Curse him.
On that note, he walked out my door laughing. He turned, though, before fully exiting. “I’m in 211B, just in case you wanted to know. And by the way, I welcome women into my apartment.”
I dropped the bags I had been iron gripping. Who was this man? I was torn between chucking something at his head or giving him a housewarming kiss.