Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
SIGNE
We flew in late that night since Tennessee was three hours ahead of us. All of us immediately checked into our hotel rooms before the next morning, when we officially visited the manufacturer for Boson Tractors, a company that competed with well-known brands like John Deer.
Their manufacturer was located in the small town of Newport, Tennessee. The population was barely seven thousand people.
Why I was tagging along again was beyond me, but I did my due diligence and snapped photos of the property and all the pretty tractors as Brandon instructed.
As the four of us toured the large warehouse of Boson Tractors, and I actively tried to ignore how freaking humid it was, I realized how good at his job Brandon was.
He was a schmoozer, which was wild to see.
He easily built a rapport with the representative from Boson, shaking hands and throwing cheap dad jokes to crack a smile.
Even Zaid smirked a little at the performance Brandon was putting on, as the two men discussed what a possible collaboration with a company of this size could look like.
It was clear that Zaid was much more comfortable with a behind-the-scenes situation. Brandon took charge for most of the conversation, whereas Mary and Zaid were clearly only present to answer questions that Brandon might not have been able to on the spot.
Sure, Zaid was professional and seemed succinct when the Boson representative had a question about the specific technology Sun Steer built, but he was clearly here under duress like I was.
Mary also seemed to be struggling with the humidity, some stray strands of her dark hair that came out of her ponytail stuck to her neck. We smiled at each other in comradery a number of times throughout the hours-long meeting that actually ended up taking two whole days.
I got my ten thousand steps in each day, that was for sure.
All while taking notes of the meetings, even though my notes only really made sense to me at the moment. I would have to spend the rest of the evening in the hotel room rewriting the notes so that when I forwarded the run-down to the others, they would be able to make sense of it.
Typing notes on my phone, while keeping up with two businessmen who didn’t bother to notice that Mary’s shorter legs were probably sore or that I loathed cardio and was sweating through my blouse, was more difficult than I thought.
If it wasn’t for Zaid checking over his shoulder, letting Brandon and the Boson rep walk ahead of him before asking loud enough for everyone to hear if Mary and I, “needed a minute,” we would have been left in the dust multiple times.
The rep from Boson was just as excited to show off their new machines and models as Brandon was excited to tell them all the ways Sun Steer’s technology could help take their business to the next level.
Cool, good for them.
At the end of the second day, after standing in the shower for about an hour to hopefully wash the humidity off of me, I collapsed onto my back on my hotel bed and appreciated not standing on my feet.
And then my phone buzzed, making me curse as I patted my hand aimlessly on the comforter in search of it.
If it was from Brandon, I was pretty sure I was going to type a very inappropriate and rude message back to him.
But it wasn’t Brandon, it was Zaid.
I felt my smile tug at my cheeks as if it were a reflex to do so now.
Zaid: Have you eaten?
Me: I’m too exhausted to eat.
I set my phone on my stomach, refusing to get up off of the bed in search of food. I just wanted to sleep for a week straight, maybe find a tub to soak my feet in. Unfortunately, the small town of Newport didn’t have the fanciest hotels with tubs. The hotel were staying at was pretty basic.
I felt my phone buzz again.
Zaid: What room are you in?
I raised my eyebrows, checking the time on my phone to see that it was 9:03 pm.
I texted him my room number and nothing else, wondering what he would possibly say in response.
I waited and waited.
At some point, I was pretty sure I dozed off, because I was startled by a knock on my hotel room door, and I felt cold drool on the side of my mouth that I quickly tried to wipe away.
According to my phone, it was now 9:37 pm.
I stood, wincing at my poor achy feet as I padded over to answer the door, embracing the fact that I was wearing a comfy light grey shirt with the words “Hello darkness my old friend, I stood up too fast again” in black lettering, and black bike shorts.
After opening the door, I had to struggle to keep my jaw from falling in shock at the sight of Zaid in grey sweatpants, a white t-shirt that hid nothing about his physique, holding a takeout bag of food that immediately made my mouth water.
He smelled like he also recently showered, his cologne mixing with the scent of barbeque making my head spin.
“I brought nourishment,” Zaid held the bag up with a playful grin on his face, his dark eyes shining behind his glasses.
I almost broke down in tears, not realizing just how hungry I was after two days of chasing Brandon around a massive warehouse for the sake of my job.
“You’re my hero,” I sighed as I opened the door wider, allowing him to come in.
Zaid smirked as he crossed the threshold, setting the food down on the entertainment center because there wasn’t a kitchen table to eat at. Just two wooden chairs that he grabbed with each hand and moved to the front of the entertainment center, creating a makeshift eating area for the two of us before he started pulling boxes of food out of the takeout bag.
I just stood there, watching him make himself at home in my hotel room.
God, what I would give to be a victim of the only-one-bed trope right now.
No, Signe , I scolded myself, we’re behaving. We’re professional and I don’t want to see anyone from management naked.
“Signe?” Zaid asked, making me snap out of my fantasies and take a seat in one of the chairs.
“What’s on the menu?” I asked, playing it cool after he caught me staring at him. Probably with a very horny gaze.
“Um,” Zaid got back to assembling the paper plates, which must have come with the takeout and plastic cutlery, “I just got brisket, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, and these buttery garlic rolls this place was known for.”
“Sold,” I snagged a roll out of his hand before he could put it on one of the plates, taking a large bite and feeling my eyeballs roll into the back of my head at the taste of buttery, garlicky carbs.
“It’s good?” Zaid asked with a huff of laughter at my reaction.
“So damn good,” I took the plate he handed me with everything else, not wasting time.
We didn’t talk much as we both ate, which would normally embarrass me, but I realized I felt comfortable sitting in silence with him while we ate our meals. We could exchange small pleasantries here and there, more along the lines of “this is delicious” and “I’ve never had brisket this good” and “what is in this barbeque sauce?”
Only about twenty minutes later, after my stomach felt like it was going to burst because I ate so quickly, did I take a moment to appreciate how intimate this moment was between us.
Sure, we had been alone together before. In his office, at his sister’s house in her living room, but never in a hotel room.
Not with a king-sized bed mere feet away from us, as if it was a bright red sign reminding me what consenting adults liked to do when a king-sized bed was present. Days after the heated looks we exchanged with each other at LAX. Minutes after he bought me food.
“So,” I cleared my throat as I set my plate in the takeout bag that was now serving as a trash bag, “Do you think the meetings with Boson went well?”
“I hope so,” Zaid sighed, taking the last few bites of potatoes before also discarding his paper plate, “Otherwise, sweating to death in that warehouse was all for nothing.”
“Oh my god,” I leaned forward in my seat, “Why the hell did we conduct business like that? Why couldn’t we all sit in a boring conference room like normal people?”
Zaid chuckled at my reaction, shrugging his shoulders in commiseration as he searched for the moist wipes the restaurant must have thrown in. There were four little packets of moist wipes, and he grabbed them before also snatching up the complimentary breath mints the restaurant threw in to offer to me. I took one of each and watched intently as he popped the other breath mint into his mouth.
Watching his mouth work as he crunched the breath mint between his teeth, the muscles in his jaw and throat working as he chewed through the breath mint in seconds, made me want to moan.
There was something seriously wrong with me.
“According to Boson, they like a more ‘personal approach’,” Zaid lifted his fingers into air quotes in between wiping his hands clean of the greasiest yet most delicious barbeque I had ever eaten, “And Brandon really wants this deal to go through, so we were at their mercy.”
“I would have said no,” I shook my head, “It was torture. I should sue.”
“Don’t let Jacqueline hear you joke like that.” Zaid grinned, wiping his mouth, and ensuring his beard was clean before leaning back in his chair and resting one of his ankles over his knee, “Damn, it was exhausting though.”
“I’m just a girl,” I whined, “I’m not meant for so much walking.”
“Next time we’ll bring a little red wagon to drag you around in. I’m sure Zeki wouldn’t mind if you borrowed his,” Zaid winked, and the action made my heart skip a beat. Perhaps it was also due to the grey sweatpants he was wearing, but I had a feeling I would react viscerally any time Zaid Ansara winked at me.
“You say that like you’re joking,” I raised my eyebrows at him, standing to grab the trash bag of takeout and tossing it in the small trash bin near the front door, “But don’t set my expectations so high like that.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Zaid replied, making no move to stand up from his chair and leave now that dinner was over.
I grinned and sat back down in mine, actively pretending like there wasn’t a big ol’ comfy bed that could hold two of us as we let the food that we just devoured settle in our stomachs.
“What are your thoughts on Tennessee so far?” I asked him.
“It’s hot, and wet.” Zaid shook his head, “I’m a spoiled California man through and through.”
I laughed, tucking my legs underneath me in my chair to get more comfortable, “I’m glad I’m not the only one. I’m happy living in Orange County for the rest of my life.”
“Me too,” Zaid stretched his arms behind himself, resting both hands behind his neck as he kept that one foot crossed over his knee, looking as if we had shared a dinner in our lounge clothes dozens of times. As if this was normal for us to do in my hotel room, and not the very first time that it happened.
I wondered if this was his way of trying to act casual about being in my hotel room right now. If he was letting his body language display how not worried he was being near this bed. How he had no worries about jumping on me.
Wish I could say the same.
“I do want to travel some more, though,” Zaid thoughtfully added as he glanced around the hotel room, “Lately I’ve wanted to visit Iceland.”
I tilted my head at him, “What’s in Iceland?”
He grinned, “Really cool renewable energy technology,” he lifted a shoulder, “Plus spas and volcanos and cool views. I don’t know, it just always interested me.”
I hummed my agreement, “That does sound like a cool place to visit, as long as southern California is my home to come back to.”
“Yeah,” Zaid smiled, creating a wrinkle in the corners of his eyes behind his glasses, “Agreed.”
It was too easy to picture going on a vacation like that with him.
Both of us bundled up in layers as we hiked through Iceland or soaking in the hot spas I’d heard about. Or visiting some renewable energy plant that would fill him with way more excitement than I’d ever understand, but watching his face light up from the experience would be worth it.
How I wanted that to be my reality so badly.
Ask me, I begged him in my mind, ask me to run away to Iceland with you .
I felt my heart jump at the realization of how wrong that thought was.
We were coworkers, friends.
Zaid and I weren’t lovers.
As far as I knew, he didn’t view me with romantic interest in the slightest. He was just such a nice, down-to-earth guy. He was a man that women could feel safe around.
And then there was me, someone he might not feel safe lounging next to in that chair, if he knew what I was doing. How often I objectified him.
I thought I was going to be sick.
I stood up from my chair suddenly, the urge to run away and escape making my muscles tense.
“Signe?” Zaid asked, standing up from his chair and trying to meet my eyes, “Are you alright?”
I huffed a laugh of disbelief, rubbing my palms on my cheeks as I stepped away and paced around the room a little bit.
I wanted him.
I wanted Zaid so badly.
It was too easy to fantasize about what it would be like to have him, even though he wouldn’t want me at all if he knew what I did.
This was so inappropriate.
I have to tell him.
“Signe?”
“I’m—I’m okay.” I waved my hand in the direction I left him, still walking back and forth, shaking my hands out as if I could wiggle the anxiety out of my body.
God, what was I even doing?
I have to tell him.
“Signe, Signe stop,” Zaid stepped forward and grabbed both of my forearms with his large warm hands, crouching just enough to force me to meet his eyes, “What is going on? Are you alright? Can I help?”
His thumbs started mindlessly tracing circles on my skin where he held me, and I felt myself shiver at the contact.
I tried to pull away, shaking my head once as I tried to avoid his eyes, but he didn’t let me go. He wouldn’t let me escape.
“I’m just freaking out a little bit,” I admitted, looking everywhere but him. I had to tell him. I couldn’t look at him and tell him at the same time.
“What is it? Are you having a panic attack?” His eyes scanned the entirety of my body, because my feet were shifting as if desperate to run away.
“No,” I thought about it some more, “Well, maybe. I don’t know.” I caught a whiff of his scent, and I wanted to lean into his body. I wanted to run my mouth over his neck, his shoulders, his jaw. I wanted to feel his beard under my lips, find the soft pillows of his own.
“How can I—”
“I need—I need to tell you—oh god,” I was pretty sure I was wheezing, it seemed very difficult to breathe.
“What?” His dark brows furrowed with a shake of his head, “Breathe, just breathe. You’re safe.”
“I—I need to—” I was watching his mouth as he frowned, my body screaming at me to kiss him , tell him , kiss him .
“I’m here. How can I help?” Zaid looked so genuinely concerned for me, my heart melted. I glanced down at his hold on my arms, how he tugged me a little closer to his body when he saw where my eyes landed.
I looked back up into the dark depths of his eyes and realized how quickly my control was leaving with every moment that passed.
His body was so close to mine, his spicy cologne once again invading my senses and scrambling my brain. It was difficult to think rationally.
“Signe?” Zaid asked, stepping closer into my space, and placing a gentle hand on my forehead as if to check my temperature.
I want to climb you like a tree , I almost blurted out. But I gently grabbed his hand and moved it off my forehead before I pasted on a hopefully believable casual smile and replied, “I’m fine. I’m just…” I’m just what? Procrastinating on telling him about the book? Picturing him naked? Wondering what it would be like to earn the affection of a good man like him?
Zaid’s dark eyes glanced down between us, and it took me a moment to understand what he was looking at. It wasn’t until I felt his rough fingers lace through mine that I realized I never let go of his hand. I had simply removed it from my forehead and held my grip.
The feel of his fingers intertwining with mine made my heart skip a beat, and I inhaled a deep breath that, frankly, felt more like a gasp. My blood was rushing in my veins, and I found myself blinking more often as I struggled to understand what was happening. How Zaid stepped a little closer into my space as our hands held each other, his eyes lifting to meet mine.
“You’re just…?” Zaid asked, his voice lowering. It was so intimate, and the tone he used immediately reflected just how alone we both were. How we were in this hotel room, away from the office. It was deceptive. It didn’t feel like I was with Zaid Ansara, Chief Technology Officer. It felt like I was just with Zaid. This wonderful, kind-hearted man I had been insanely attracted to since day one. The man who loved his nephew more than anyone else. The man who opened up to me more and more every day, and dammit if my heart didn’t pitter-patter at the hopeful thought that he was just as worked up as I was.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, sounding much more panicked than I intended to. Probably due to the inability for me to regulate my breathing.
His hand tightened its grip on mine as he replied, “For what?” his brows drew together, his dark eyes desperately trying to meet mine through the frame of those glasses that were driving me crazy, “I’m here. You don’t need to talk—in fact, don’t talk—”
“I didn’t mean to…” I shook my head once as I stepped closer to him, our chests almost touching as I reached up to place a hand on the side of his glasses, pausing as I finally met his eyes and hoping he understood.
He seemed so confused and anxious, before taking his free hand that wasn’t gripping mine, and slowly removing his glasses himself. My other hand landed on his shoulder, and my fingertips gently pressed into the glorious muscle underneath his cotton shirt.
“Signe?” Zaid asked, his dark eyes widening a fraction. It was his body language that did it for me. How after he gently set his glasses on the entertainment center to the side of us, his gaze dropped to my mouth. How his eyes dipped slightly, growing hooded as I quickly wet my lips. How his hand still held mine tight, as if not wanting me to let go. How when my hand on his shoulder gently dragged a path up to the side of his neck, he seemed to lean towards me even more.
He was with me.
Zaid was right here with me.
“I—I—” I tilted my face back just enough for him to tilt towards mine.
“Tu’burni,” Zaid mumbled as his chest expanded just enough to brush against mine. I didn’t have time to ask him what the hell that meant because suddenly he met my lips with his own and nothing else mattered.