5. Sofia
Sofia
Working with Rick Mylonas was going to be exciting and difficult at the same time.
There was a vibrating, electric current to him, and for the first time in a year, the suffocating weight of my job had lifted.
Even though he’d explicitly told me not to look at the project until tomorrow, there was absolutely no way my hyperactive brain was going to let me sleep without cracking open that folder.
The difficult part was going to be to try and focus whenever those blue eyes landed on me. God, why did he have to be such a… god?
Not only had he seen through Leonard’s BS about stealing my work, but he’d encouraged me and given me free rein.
I’d taken the thick file of Clear Creek Brewery data with me to the little Italian place down the street from my apartment.
It was a cozy, dimly lit place that smelled of garlic and baked oregano—the perfect spot to disappear into a corner booth.
I had the documents spread out over the red-and-white checkered tablecloth, and was scouring the financial metrics and market distributions as I waited for my chicken parm.
Just as the waiter set down my steaming plate of food, a sudden, erratic skip in my pulse made me look up.
My heart did a violent, Olympic-level sprint against my ribs.
Walking through the front door of the restaurant was Rick.
He was dressed down a bit from his corporate armor, wearing a dark sweater that made his shoulders look impossibly broad.
Beside him was a spectacularly beautiful dark-haired woman.
She looked like she’d stepped right off a Milan runway, with flawless olive skin, cascading glossy dark curls, and an effortlessly chic outfit that probably cost more than my car.
Of course he’d be with someone like her.
A guy that looked like him probably didn’t do takeout on his sofa in sweatpants.
My brain immediately began a chaotic, uninvited spiral of how the couple had met.
Had she come from California with him? Were they married?
Engaged? The woman certainly clung to his arm with a level of familiar possessiveness that made my stomach do a weird little sink.
I slumped my shoulders and tried to blend into the background.
The hostess led them to the other side of the dining room, thankfully seating them quite a distance away from me. I tried harder to shrink into my upholstered chair, pulling the edges of the brewery folder up like a makeshift privacy screen. Please don’t look over here, please don’t look over here.
But my spectacular string of bad luck held strong.
The exact moment he finished politely pulling out the chair for the gorgeous brunette, his head lifted, as if sensing someone watching him and those blue eyes scanned the room quickly.
His eyes swept past the bar and hit my corner booth before settling on me.
I couldn’t manage to look away, locking eyes with his and holding there for several heartbeats.
Even from across the restaurant, I could see the immediate, amused spark that lit up his gaze. He leaned down, murmured something to the dark-haired woman, and then turned on his heel to make his way straight across the dining room toward me.
I closed the folder a second too late, my face no doubt erupting into a brilliant, familiar crimson.
“Sofia.” His deep, gritty baritone rumbled as he stopped beside my booth, sliding a hand easily into his pocket.
He looked down at the manila folder, a slow, devastatingly handsome smile breaking across his face.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t I explicitly order you to go home, relax, and stay off the clock until tomorrow? ”
“I am relaxing,” I squeaked, gesturing defensively to my chicken parm. “This is a leisure activity. Reading the financial parameters of potential clients just happens to pair beautifully with carbohydrates.”
He chuckled, leaning slightly, bringing him entirely too close for my peace of mind. Up close, he smelled like that intoxicating mix of sandalwood and crisp mountain air again. “You’re a terrible listener, you know that? Most employees jump at the chance to do zero work after five o’clock.”
“Most employees’ work hasn’t been hijacked for a year and stolen by a mole-faced…” I dropped off with a mumble. When he chuckled, I looked up at him and said clearly, “I have a lot of lost momentum to make up for.”
“Well, as your temporary boss, I might have to issue a formal reprimand for extreme dedication,” he said softly, his voice dropping into a low, teasing register that made every single nerve ending in my body stand at immediate attention.
He leaned in a fraction of an inch closer, his eyes holding mine with an intense, playful weight.
“Though I have to admit, seeing you completely ignore my authority has oddly been the highlight of my day. It affirms your dedication to the job.”
My throat went entirely dry. If he kept talking to me in that sexy tone, I was going to melt right into the restaurant floor.
Desperate to break the hypnotic spell of his flirting, I glanced over his shoulder toward his table. The beautiful dark-haired woman was watching us, her perfect brow delicately arched.
Suddenly, I felt almost sick for flirting with the man while his date was watching. I wasn’t a cheater. Period. Knowing what it felt like to be on the other end, I wasn’t ever going to be responsible for someone else’s pain.
“Your, uh, your date is waiting,” I pointed out, trying to sound completely nonchalant and failing miserably.
Rick followed my gaze back to the brunette. He turned back to me as his smile widened. Then he burst out laughing. “Right. My date.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Don’t tell my mother you thought she was my date. It’ll go to her head.” He winked at me.
I glanced over at the table and blinked a few times. “That’s… your mother?” It amazed me how much younger the woman looked than Rick’s father.
“Yup.” He straightened. “She still gets carded sometimes.” He chuckled. “My father has been accused of robbing the cradle more times than he can count.”
I noticed it then. The same dark hair, the same light blue eyes staring at us with kindness.
I thought he’d gotten his eyes from his father, but no, they were identical to the woman watching us.
Sure, he looked like his dad—the same chiseled jawline, the rugged good looks.
But seeing his mother, I could piece together the rest.
“Well, duty calls. My mother wanted Italian and my dad is still out on the golf course. Do me a favor, Sofia? Eat your dinner and enjoy your night. Put the file away.”
“No promises,” I countered.
“I didn’t think so.” He chuckled, giving me one last heated look before turning around and walking back across the room to rejoin his stunning mother.
I sat there for a long moment, my heart still thudding wildly as I watched him and his mother chatting and laughing together.
Suddenly embarrassed at the whole encounter from this morning on, I almost lost my appetite.
I ate as quickly as humanly possible, barely tasting the food.
I stuffed the brewery’s file back into my bag, paid the check, and practically fled the restaurant, walking the two blocks back to my apartment in a daze.
As I curled up on my bed, I stared up at the ceiling, my mind completely consumed by a pair of sexy blue eyes, the smell of sandalwood, and the terrifying realization that working directly under Rick Mylonas was going to be a lot more dangerous than I ever could have anticipated.
How long had it been since I’d had interest in a man? Not since Parker, the boy who had broken everything I had been. But I’d come out on the other side. Well, except I hadn’t dated or trusted a man since him.
A few moments later, my brain was buzzing with so much creative energy that I had to call Nova.
“You are not going to believe who just walked into the Italian place while I was eating dinner there,” I whispered the second she picked up, propping my sketchbook against my knees. I began to draw, like I always did. Tonight, I was working on a few ideas for the cans for the brewery.
“If you say someone sexy and famous, I’m hanging up,” Nova deadpanned.
“Not tonight. Rick Mylonas. He was with a woman who looks like she modeled for Vogue before breakfast.” I let out a dramatic groan, chewing on the end of my pencil.
“Was it his mother?” Nova asked.
“Yes.” Of course, Nova had met Jax’s mother plenty of times before.
“Yeah, she is gorgeous. Dark hair, perfect skin, the whole works.”
“When I saw her, she was glued to his arm. And then—because my life is a sitcom—he saw me. He came over to my booth and completely teased me about having the brewery files out.”
“Wait, he flirted with you?” Nova squealed.
“As far as I could tell, that is what he was doing.” I paused for the excitement. “But it’s been so long since I’ve been flirted with that I’m not really sure.”
She laughed. “Oh, this is delicious. What did he say to you?”
“Just…” I thought about it for a second and deflated. “Boss things,” I mumbled, my cheeks warming up all over again at the memory of his gritty voice. “Anyway, I’m going to watch a movie and actually try to have a normal evening to myself.” I set my sketch pad down and reached for the remote.
“You haven’t had one of those in…”
“A year.” I groaned.
We talked for another twenty minutes before finally hanging up.
True to my word, I put work away, but my sketchbook stayed open on my nightstand while a mindless romantic comedy played in the background.
At one point, I picked up my sketchbook and pencil again, and my hand flew across the pages, sketching out ideas for the brewery.
For the first time in a year, I didn’t feel suffocated while doing my work. I felt inspired.
Because I hadn’t needed to stay late the night before, I actually woke up feeling rested. I even showed up to work a few minutes early.