Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Cleaning up since the workshop ended, Maxwell stacked several folding chairs against the wall, his thoughts still on how much he had enjoyed educating the kids and their parents.
He heard the squeaking wheels of the cart behind him and looked over his shoulder. Jasmine had returned from taking items back to the supply closet.
“You didn’t do too bad today,” she remarked.
She had removed her purple blazer. Her purple skirt molded over her round hips, and her silk blouse hinted at the fullness of her small breasts.
He looked forward to her outfits. They were professional yet sexy at the same time.
Perhaps because he knew quite well what was hidden underneath the layers of silk and wool.
Satiny golden curves, a plump ass, and pert, caramel-tipped nipples that he’d enjoyed teasing with his tongue.
Two bottles of water were on the cart. She extended one to him.
“I had great assistants. They were young and green but enthusiastic,” he said, as he reached for the water.
During the handoff, their fingers brushed.
It didn’t last long. Maybe a second, if that.
But a sensation as sharp and sudden as a bolt of electricity jumped up his arm.
No doubt it landed on Jasmine’s skin too because her eyes flicked to their hands before darting away, and she retreated half a step, smoothing her fingers over her neat hair, which didn’t need smoothing.
“Anyway,” she said too quickly, turning to collect the surveys left on the snack table. “Did you look at any of these?”
Twisting the cap off his bottle, Maxwell allowed himself a moment to enjoy her unease, her little retreat, and the sudden need to pick up the surveys and discuss them.
She could pretend all she wanted, but she’d felt the charge he did.
He got a certain satisfaction from knowing the attraction he felt wasn’t one-sided.
“No. How did I do?” he asked.
“Most of them loved the presentation. The comments are more interesting than the rating. One parent said, and I quote, ‘My daughter actually paid attention.’ Another parent said if you ever wanted to be a physical education teacher, there’s a slot available for you at Gwinnett Elementary.”
“It’s always good to have a Plan B,” Maxwell said.
“There was also this.” She turned a card toward him. “I’m pretty sure this is from the disgruntled dad who confronted me. He complained about the three-fifty-one start time and underlined it twice. He also said we should consider providing real food.” She shook her head.
“What did he want, steak and potatoes at a goddamn workshop?”
Jasmine’s laugh was quick and surprised, as if the sound escaped her mouth before she could stop it. She pressed the back of her hand to her lips as though she could take it back. “Probably. I guess I’ll have to work on the food budget for the next workshop.”
“Screw that guy. This was a great idea, and over time the workshops will become bigger. So big you’ll have to put a cap on attendance.
” Maxwell picked up a sheet from the snack table.
“Check this out. Half the parents signed up for the mailing list, and while you were out of the room, two of the moms asked when the next event was.”
“Nice. It was a success.”
“It was a success,” Maxwell confirmed, watching her beam with relief. “A smart way to market the practice without coming across salesy.”
Jasmine stacked the survey cards into one pile. “I appreciate your help today. This could have been a disaster but turned out really well. You made it... not a disaster.”
“Not a disaster. Look at you, heaping praise on me.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “I should have never given you a compliment.”
“Does that mean you owe me?” Keeping his eyes on her, Maxwell drained half the water from his bottle.
“No, Dr. Park owes you because you filled in for her.”
“Technically, you were filling in for her, and I filled in for you. Let’s see, what do I want?” He tapped his bearded chin.
“Doesn’t matter what you want,” Jasmine said.
“You know what, you sound ungrateful. The right thing to do is to pay me in some shape or fashion.”
“Okay, fine. High-five.” She lifted a hand in the air.
Maxwell stared at her palm then back at her. “You got jokes.”
“You’re gonna leave me hanging? Yeah? Okay.” She shrugged and dropped her hand.
“You’re an asshole,” he said.
“Takes one to know one,” she sang.
They fell into a rhythm as they cleared the rest of the room. He folded chairs while she gathered the leftover food onto the cart. When the room was clean, they exited together, putting the leftovers in the break room refrigerator and the cart in the supply closet.
Back in his office, Maxwell slung his backpack over his shoulder and flipped off the light. Jasmine was coming out of her office as he stepped into the hallway.
“You have big plans this weekend?” he asked as they strolled toward the front entrance.
“Nothing special. You?” She cast a sidelong glance at him.
Maxwell pushed open the door and let her walk ahead, her sweet scent drifting under his nose. The same intoxicating scent he had been reluctant to wash off his skin. Cherries jubilee. How did she manage to smell so good even at the end of the day?
“No nice guys lined up?” he asked, ignoring her question.
They walked into the cold air.
“Why did you make ‘nice guys’ sound like something bad or dirty?”
“Nice is boring.”
“Nice is…” She paused, and he waited, his eyes trained on her in expectation. Whatever she was about to say, she clearly changed her mind. “Mind your business, Dr. Santana.”
“Maybe you are my business,” Maxwell said, strolling beside her.
As she opened her car door, the corners of her lips twitched as if she were fighting a smile. “Good night.”
“That’s it? No smart ass comeback?”
“Contrary to what you believe, I’m not constantly trying to pick a fight with you, and I do appreciate what you did today. I give you some points for being useful even though you’re new at the practice.”
“I get the feeling you’re stingy with your points.”
“I’m hard to impress.”
“I can tell. Next week, then?”
“For what?”
“To improve and get more points.”
She paused, a faint smirk on her lips as she slid into the driver’s seat. “I’ll think about it. Have a good weekend, Maxwell.”
“You too.”
He walked to his own vehicle and climbed in, starting the car and letting it warm up, same as she did.
When she drove away, he remained in the parking lot, thinking. There was something there. Something pulling him inextricably closer to Jasmine, which he couldn’t ignore or deny. She had him looking for openings and excuses to spend time with her, and he enjoyed chatting with her and teasing her.
She wasn’t just a pretty face. In the short time he’d been there, he saw how hard she worked and her competence. She was always coming up with new ideas and cared about the staff and their patients.
Maxwell wasn’t in the habit of chasing women, but if there was a woman worth chasing, her name was Jasmine Roberson.