Chapter TwoMicahOctober 7 #4
Fischer: Are you serious? You think any of those ideas were good ones?
Grant: Why not? Those canapés looked delicious.
Fischer: That doesn’t make them a good idea.
Grant: Did you order my lunch? I’m starving.
Fischer: We need to find a different planning company, or this reopening is going to fail.
“ We should really get started,” I say, cutting off Lila, who has gone back several slides to talk about the part with the fog machine.
A fog machine . “Since this is such a short time frame, Lila, I know you’ll want as much planning time as possible.
I’ll set up a calendar with Mr. Bradley’s assistant. ”
I grab Fischer’s arm to make sure he knows I have his back, but he only tenses more, his forearm straining beneath my fingers. Hello, muscle.
Though Lila looks ready to fire me on the spot—not a new look for her, honestly—she nods.
“Yes, I would like the planning team to have as much time as possible to ensure this event brings you the attention you need. Mr. Bradley, if you would like to come to my office, we can discuss in greater detail your goals for the next few weeks.”
She snaps her fingers, which is the signal for everyone to go back to their desks.
The Ember employees all look mildly nervous, but they’ll follow Lila’s lead even if they think her vision is a bad idea; they always do.
At least, they do until something doesn’t work, and then they come running to me for ideas on how to fix it.
As soon as we’re alone, Fischer pulls his arm free and turns to face me. “While I appreciate your dedication to your company, I don’t see a point in us making a calendar. I will be recommending that Mr. Bradley finds a different company.”
“No!” My shout breaks out of me a lot louder than I meant it to and deepens Fischer’s scowl. “I mean, that’s a bad idea. I don’t think you’ll be able to find another company who can take on a project with such a short timeline.”
“If Ember can do it, so can someone else.” He rises.
I grab his hand, which makes him freeze.
“Lila’s ideas are terrible. I know that.
You know that. But what you don’t know is that her ideas are always terrible, but her team always manages to make something incredible in the end.
” I need to stand up. He’s taller than me already, but I especially don’t like the power dynamic I’m feeling down in my chair.
Hopping up, I grip his hand tighter even though he’s staring at our hands like he’s never been more offended.
Or maybe confused. He’s expressive but also not, which makes him hard to read right now.
“Look,” I say. “This was just a preliminary meeting. Nothing is set in stone, and I promise I can make sure this event ends up bringing the Greenwood Lodge back to life.”
He finally lifts his gaze to meet mine. A storm brews behind his dark eyes, making me shiver. “You?” he says, his voice low. “An assistant?”
I feel the challenge like a slap to the face, but I don’t let it phase me.
Actually, I turn it into a cheerleader taunt, imagining him with pom poms and telling me that my team is going down.
Too bad for him, I wasn’t cheer captain for nothing, and I’m not about to let a man tell me I can’t do something.
Grinning, I step forward until I’m absolutely in his bubble.
That’s not hard to do; he seems like the kind of guy who has one of those thick inflatable balls surrounding him instead of a little soap bubble that is easy to pierce.
I generally try to respect people’s personal space because most people have a bigger bubble than me, but something about this guy has me wanting to see how many buttons he has that I can push.
“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed,” I say with a bright smile, “but you’re an assistant too.
Just because we’re treated like we’re less doesn’t mean we are.
You obviously care about this reopening, and I have never cared about anything more.
Ember is your best chance. So, are we going to set up a timeline or not? ”
He swallows, his eyes dipping back down to our hands.
I left only a few inches of space between us, which he clearly doesn’t like if his furrowed brow means anything.
“Fine,” he says eventually. “I still think this is going to end up in disaster, but you’re right.
There isn’t time to seek out another company.
I hope you prove me wrong, Miss Taylor.”
That’s not exactly a glowing recommendation, but I’ll take it. “Micah,” I remind him, finally letting go of his hand.
He immediately takes a wide step back, which I try not to find offensive. “Shall we get this over with?”
“We’ll need to go to my computer so I can pull up our calendar.
” Even if I can technically do it on my phone too.
As I suspected, Fischer cringes but follows me out anyway.
I like to think I’m friendly and kind, but I grew up with eight older half siblings, most of whom only interacted with me when I forced them to.
I know exactly when someone is frustrated by me, and I can’t help but want to exacerbate the problem by being extra cheerful and friendly.
Kill them with kindness has always been my life motto.
And Fischer? He seems grumpy enough that he probably doesn’t get a lot of kindness in his life. Assuming I have the chance to pull off this event, I’m going to make sure he is with me every step of the way, if only to disrupt his life and see what it takes to get a smile out of him.
Whether he wants it or not, for the next two and a half weeks, this guy is stuck with me.