Chapter 9
HARI
“I miss him.”
Jackson was back in the office for a day before leaving again in the morning. The hotel wanted everything done yesterday, and he’d had to remind them why they chose us rather than another company that mass produced products.
The extra staff he’d hired were in the workshop under the tutelage of Callum and Adrian.
Though my staff were used to me expressing my inner thoughts outwardly, Jackson had been absent so much, he swung his chair around and studied me.
“Fill me in, boss. What have I missed?”
“A guy.”
He side-eyed me. Jackson was allowed to do that because we’d known one another and worked together for years.
“I got that reference. The word ‘him’ gave it away.”
I laughed. It was good to have him here, if only for a day.
“You remember the mixup with the coffee table?”
Jackson rubbed his chin. “That guy? Mr. Radisson? He’s the one you’re keen on?”
His reaction was a little over the top. Sure, that guy was a customer whom I treated with respect. But though I wasn’t into him, I could have been.
“And would that be so wrong?” I needed to hear why me being in lust with Mr. Radisson produced such a response from my friend.
“He’s not your type. I scented him.” He shook his head.
Why would the guy’s body wash or cologne be so offensive? I hadn’t noticed his smell. He definitely didn’t have BO. But I had Remy on my mind and didn’t want to discuss Mr. Radisson’s choice of scent.
“Not him. The other one.” I rambled on about Remy and the mixup with the number. I gave Jackson a look, and he apologized for his mistake, but he didn’t appear to be sorry. Instead, he was grinning.
“Oh, that one.” He got up and walked from the office into the showroom. “He sat at this table and ate dinner with you.” He bent over the table and inhaled. “His scent is pretty well ingrained in the wood.”
Huh? That made no sense. I leaned toward the table and picked up a faint curry aroma from that night.
Damn, I’d have to get rid of that. I performed the hand sniff test where I placed my nose on my palm and inhaled before sniffing the wood.
Ahhh, there it was. A faint whiff of the man I was lusting over.
“That’s him. I wish you could meet him.” It was a tad sad that parts of Remy were embedded in the wood rather than me being in him. The thought of my cock being anywhere near his hole had me sweating profusely, and I picked up one of the napkins in the place settings and dabbed at my brow.
“I feel as though I know him already.” He grinned and grabbed a towel from the “bathroom.” “You’ve been hit hard, boss.”
“Not sure he likes me. One minute I’m certain he does, but then he veers away and gets a distant look in his eyes.”
“He does.”
How would Jackson know anything about Remy’s eyes? I was already devoting too much time thinking about Remy, and Jackson’s comments were confusing me.
“Oh, so you’ve met him and he looked long and hard at you and made your legs quake and your brain turn to mush?”
“No. But he left something behind when he was in the showroom. Part of himself.”
I put my hand over my ears, because whatever it was, I didn’t want to know. It sounded gross, and whatever it was, our cleaner better scrub all evidence of it away tonight.
“Let’s talk about something else, like should I send him a gift?” Did people send “thank you for having dinner with me” presents?
“Did he do something you’re grateful for?”
“Yes.” I grinned. “He exists, and thanks to you messing up, he came into my life.”
Jackson harrumphed. “So why aren’t you giving me something special? I’m the one who brought you together.”
I made a face. “You’re my friend. That’s it. I don’t want anything else from you.”
He snorted with laughter. “Got it.”
I had an idea for a gift, and grabbing my phone, I went outside so Jackson couldn’t hear me. He pressed his ear to the glass, and I gave him the finger. With the traffic noise and passersby, he’d have to read my lips to figure out the conversation.
“Happy now?” I asked as I walked back in.
Jackson was at the computer in his office, and I was about to go into the workshop which was my happy place. “Happy for what?”
“Ummm. I’ve come up with the perfect gift for Remy.”
But before I strolled into the workshop, I snuck back into the office.
“What’s the magic formula? You said Remy likes me? How can you be so sure? Does his scent contain a coded message?”
“The guy had dinner with you in a showroom and didn’t bolt.”
Was it so odd that our date took place here?
Probably. This was the center of my world, but to others, it was just a furniture showroom.
Shit. I may have come off as a cheapskate for having our first date in my work space.
But I kept coming back to the word “quirky” and how the present I was going to send Remy was in the same vein.
Spending a couple of hours shaping and crafting wood for the bedroom set put me in a better mood. The walnut was behaving, which wasn’t guaranteed. It could be unpredictable near a knot. The grain could shift without warning and the grain would tear out under the plane.
Sawdust had crept into every crevice, and I took a shower in the workshop bathroom. I was sparkly clean when I got a message about the gift.
Just for you because I love you. Pick it up around 4 tomorrow.
My friend Zara included a pic of the half-finished item, and I couldn’t wait to send it to Remy. It'd be better if I delivered it myself, but I was a little wary after he pulled away during the dinner.
I was at Zara’s by three-thirty, and she waved me inside, as she had her sewing machine by the window. Zara made the cushions, bedspreads, tablecloths, and napkins we used in the showroom.
“The message gets straight to the point.” She held up the two napkins I’d ordered.
Seeing the words spelled out in the fabric, I had second thoughts.
Perhaps I was being too forward and Remy might not appreciate my humor.
But if that happened, I’d know for sure that he was reluctant to pursue a relationship.
He’d been so flirty on that first phone call.
Maybe because he assumed we’d never meet.
But he came looking for me. I didn't seek him out, much as I wanted to. Maybe that was a game he played, and when the other person got too close, he pulled away, fearing commitment.
I thanked Zara and paid and headed to the post office. But as I sat outside, I remembered Remy had said he was going to be out today. That was unusual, as he usually worked from home. Instead of mailing the napkin, I went next door and bought a gift bag.
On the drive to Remy’s, my mind zigged and zagged. Should I or shouldn’t I leave the bag on his doorstep as opposed to mailing it? And was what I’d asked Zara to sew on the fabric a mistake? Too risqué?
I parked outside and his car wasn’t there. But I sat behind the wheel, dithering, when I should have been in the workshop, getting on with the bed frame.
A neighbor came to their door and gave me a look. I had to make a decision or they might call the police. What would I say? That I had a massive crush on the guy in this house? They’d ask why I hadn’t knocked or called.
Placing the napkin in the bag, I got out and pushed open the gate.
It squeaked, telling the people on either side that someone was on Remy’s property.
I sensed the curtains twitching and swung the bag to and fro.
What thief would turn up with a pretty gift bag? Though what did I know about their MO?
There was no sign of rain, but I didn’t want a gust of wind to blow the bag away, so I hung it from the doorknob. But silly me, I’d forgotten to buy a card or add a note.
Back in the car, I tapped out a text to Remy, because with no idea who left him the gift, he might assume it was someone else. No matter his reaction, I wanted him to know it was me.
Got you a little something for when we next meet for dinner. It’s on your knob. Nah, I couldn’t say that, and I changed the word knob to doorknob.
There was no response, but he was working as I should have been, and I tucked the phone in my pocket.
An hour later I was cajoling a prospective client into becoming a customer.
The phone vibrated as we were filling in the paperwork and choosing the wood, so it was an hour later before I could check the message.
Give me a hint.
All you can eat. That was what Zara had sewn on the linen fabric.
I’m intrigued.