Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Harrison
Mind games. That’s the only explanation.
Delaney is angry at me because I asked the questions that HR should have asked when she started here, and now she’s trying to punish me.
People looking to exploit our financial success have hurt our family in the past. Okay, maybe not our family so much as me.
Still, I have no desire to go through it again.
I’ve been home from the conference for two weeks, and each day, Delaney finds a new way to torture me.
Whether it’s a tight pencil skirt with too high heels or a flowing floral dress with sandals, she somehow exudes delicate sweetness and irresistible sexiness at the same time.
That’s just with how she’s dressing. Never mind that everything else about her also drives me crazy.
What really digs at me is how she is with everyone else: Everyone but me. I’ve watched her smiling face brighten our workspace and listened from the privacy of my office, as she has a kind word for each person who stops by her desk.
It hasn’t escaped me that many more people are frequenting our part of the building than they ever have in the past. Especially men. Men who work in the mill portion of our building and have never—not once—been up here before.
We’ve always had an open-door policy and never made a big deal of this being the C-suite area. The problem is that men are now walking right through that open door to flirt with our administrative assistant. That and her being so damn nice to each person—each man—who comes in drives me insane.
Yet she’s barely looked at me, let alone spoken more than absolutely necessary to me, not after our reintroduction. Admittedly, that probably wasn’t my best moment.
I drop my head onto my desk. I’m not a fan of feeling conflicted like this.
“What’s this?” Delaney’s voice, excited and filled with warmth, floats in the air. My ears perk up at the sound drifting into my office space.
“Thought you could use a pick-me-up. You seemed a little tired when we met with the Andersons this morning, and you didn’t eat breakfast despite the amazing food at the diner. You need some calories and protein in you, for energy.”
Holden.
My head whips up, tension grips my shoulders, and my ears home in on the conversation.
“Did you just tell a woman she looked tired?” Delaney’s voice is chastising, but playful at the same time.
“Noooo. I said you seemed tired. The usual spring in your step seems less… springy.”
“You should quit while you’re ahead.” Delaney chuckles at my brother, and I hate it. It’s even worse when he laughs back.
I rise from my chair, and before I know it, I’m leaning against the doorframe of my office, watching Holden—perched on the edge of Delaney’s desk—throwing that smile her way. The one that rarely fails to get him what he wants.
I don’t realize I have a death grip on the wood until my left hand slips, and the crisp edge of the molding jabs under the nail of my middle finger.
“Shit,” I hiss.
I pull my hand away and shake it as if that will help the pain. After I inspect my injury, I realize I’ve gained the attention of both Holden and Delaney.
“You okay there, brother?” Holden asks. He sounds sincere, which makes this all worse.
Holden and I screw with each other. It’s what we do—our dynamic. I love him. I’d go to battle for him, but most days I want to kick his ass. Today is one of those days.
“I’m fine.” No, I’m not. My finger hurts like hell.
I push off the doorway and stroll over to them, forcing myself to appear more relaxed than I feel. That’s when it catches my attention that Holden’s holding a pink smoothie from our favorite smoothie café in neighboring Meadow Creek. There’s one on the desk in front of Delaney, too.
“Is it break time already?” The sarcasm in my voice is barely evident, but it’s there.
Delaney frowns, and Holden smirks.
“It is for us.” Holden is quick with his answer. Delaney won’t make eye contact with me, instead choosing to look between Holden and her drink.
I fold my arms across my chest.
“Hmm. Did you buy smoothies for all the employees?”
Delaney’s cheeks turn bright red, but then her eyes narrow.
She picks up the smoothie and makes an obvious show of taking a drawn-out sip from it.
It drags my gaze to her mouth, and now I’m screwed because I remember exactly how she kisses with that mouth.
How she parted those pink lips and let me kiss her after she’d just come all over my face.
Fuck.
I force myself to stop thinking about that night, as if I ever could, and that’s when I realize Holden answered, and I missed it. He’s staring at me, waiting for a reply.
“What?”
Holden, still cool as a cucumber, smiles at Delaney. I want to shove him off the side of her desk.
“I said nope, I just got one for my partner in crime, here. For her help last evening.” His gaze doesn’t stray from her while he speaks.
What the fuck? She was with him after hours yesterday and this morning? Doing what, exactly? I’m about to ask, but I somehow hold the words in.
“Probably not the best idea to bring special things for just one employee, don’t you think?”
“Oh, sorry. I figured it was okay since you bring Ellie one almost every Thursday.”
My face heats. “That’s–”
“What? Different? Special?” Holden taunts.
It is, but he doesn’t know why, and I’m not about to tell Ellie’s story. It’s hers to tell.
“Piss off.” I shove him off Delaney’s desk, and Holden chuckles. He knows he’s won this one.
“Harrison! What is wrong with you?” Her words are scolding.
So, ticking her off is how I get her to acknowledge me. Noted.
“Are you okay?” she asks Holden. I hate the way she looks him up and down, and I pray she’s just looking for injuries.
“I’m fine. Takes more than that to hurt me. Don’t you worry.” He takes a few steps backward, toward his office, and fixes his eyes on mine as he speaks to her. He can barely hold back his grin. “I’ll see you at lunchtime.” He spins on his heels and is gone before she can answer.
“What was that about?” Her voice betrays her annoyance.
Oh, good. Her attention is back on me, even if she looks so mad I expect steam to pour from her ears.
“He was being an asshole.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance even though I’m ready to burst inside.
She rolls her beautiful emerald-colored eyes at me.
“He was not. He was just being nice.” She picks up her pen and scratches something on a sticky note. Without looking up at me, she mumbles, “You should try it sometime.”
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” She smacks the pen down on the desk and glares at me.
“I said you should try being nice sometimes.” Defiance fills her eyes.
“You know I’m your boss, right?” There’s a soft, teasing lilt to my voice.
“Henry’s my boss. Plus, you don’t want me working for you, so…”
I stare at her, the silence almost deafening. Do I really want to do what I’m about to do? Hell, yes. Is it smart? Probably not.
“That’s what I’m here about. I need you to start working for me half-time.”
She looks back toward Holden and Hayden’s office, and when she turns back to peer at me, her brow furrows.
“But what about Hol—”
“The original plan was for you to work for Henry and me. I declined because I wasn’t sure of your competence. Now I am.”
“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.” The sass coming from her mouth makes me want to put it to better use.
“Did you pack your lunch and snacks today?”
“What? That’s a weird question, but yes.”
“Save it for tomorrow. We’ll have a working lunch on the road. Be ready at twelve-thirty.”
Her eyes are wide as saucers, and her mouth gapes open. I turn around and head to my office. What the hell did I just do to myself, and why was I such a prick about it?
“Harrison?” I stop and look over my shoulder at her. “I need to go home and get my car first, then meet you back here. Is that okay?”
I narrow my eyes at her, not quite understanding.
My stomach drops at my next thought, and my words fly out of my mouth before I can think better of it. “Who brings you to work? Is there a husband or boyfriend?”
Jesus. Hell, I might as well call HR on myself now.
She straightens her spine and inhales, then lets it out.
“While I choose not to talk about my personal life at work, the answer to that is no. I walk to work most days. It’s good—”
I spin around to fully face her and stalk back toward her desk.
“You walk to work? Christ, Bet—. Delaney. Those roads aren’t safe for walking on. And how far are you walking?”
Our property sits in woods, tucked back with a driveway that’s a little under a quarter of a mile before you even come across the first building. We have trails built throughout the grounds, but otherwise the driveway spills out onto a back county road.
I pace, running a hand through my hair. I picture Delaney traipsing along the road and some idiot flying around a curve, not realizing there’s a pedestrian.
“Yes, I walk to work. The roads are fine, and the distance is manageable. Now, may I leave to get my vehicle?”
I freeze and look directly at her. “No, we’ll ride together.” Her eyes nearly pop out of her head.
“Um, is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay. I own the company.”
“Part of it. He owns part of it,” Holden says. He’s got a backpack on and is heading out. “See ya, Delaney.” He tilts his head up at me. “Harrison.”
I ignore him and turn my attention back to Delaney, but his fading chuckle tells me he’s leaving, and it’s clear his whole “see you at lunch” routine earlier was only meant to rile me up. I fell right into his trap, too.
“We’ll ride together. We can use the windshield time to catch you up on a few things.”
She frowns as resignation falls over her face. It gives me pause. I swallow past the lump in my throat.
“Are you… afraid to ride with me? Because of our—” even though I know we’re alone, I still glance around the room, “history.”
Her eyebrows fly up toward her hairline, and her head jerks back. Her frown makes me desperate to fix it.
“Of course not. That’s ridiculous.” Her cheeks turn a deep crimson. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s exactly what it is—history.” She rushes her words, and she stares at the pen in her hand as though it’s the most important thing in the world. “I barely remember it.” She looks up at me hesitantly.
It takes all my strength to school my expression and not show the mixture of anger and disappointment I’m feeling. I should take this opportunity to be professional, put the entire thing to bed—no pun intended. To pretend I don’t think about our night together every damn day.
Instead, I lean forward and bend over her desk, using my arms to support myself. I’m close enough that I can smell her shampoo. Strawberry, I’d guess. She holds her breath for a second, then sucks air in. Her pupils dilate. Good.
“Not me, I recall every moment. Often and in great detail. We’ll drive together. See you at twelve-thirty.”
I push off the desk and walk away. Well, now there’s that.