15. Trey
Since I arrivedat work this morning, I’ve been avoiding calling Maeve into my office. Last night’s kiss left me feeling more torn than ever and in a bit of a funk, but I’ve delayed seeing her for as long as possible.
Dialing her extension, I speak as soon as she answers. “Come in here, please.” And I hang up the phone right away.
I’m taking a sip of my coffee seconds later when she appears in the doorway. Her expression is reserved as I usher her inside. “Please close the door.” She hesitates for a second before pushing it shut. “Sit, please.”
She drops into one of the chairs in front of my desk while I study her expression. On closer inspection, I notice the purple smudges beneath her eyes.
Did she toss and turn all night, like I did?
“I owe you an apology for kissing you last night. I’m sorry. I crossed a line I shouldn’t have. I’m finding the adjustment to being your boss is a complicated process. All I can do at this point is strive to be a stronger man when it comes to you. And maybe you can help me out by being a little less irresistible.”
Maeve’s lips twitch, hinting at a smile.
“This is for you.” I slide a ceramic pot toward her. “I looked up what flowers were symbolic for saying I’m sorry and for forgiveness. Turns out it’s the purple hyacinth.”
Her blue eyes soften as she gazes at the plant. Her fingertips delicately touch one of the flowers. She leans forward, breathing in the spicy floral scent of the petals before sitting back once more. She smiles at me. “Thank you, Trey. This is a thoughtful way to apologize.”
I rub my hand over my chin. “Maybe I should’ve bought them in bulk in case I need to apologize some more.”
She laughs. “Let’s think positively.”
“It can’t hurt.”
“And just so you know, I’m struggling with our new relationship too. I can only assume it’ll get easier with time.”
“It has to, right?” I ask.
She shrugs. “We can only hope.”
“You can get out of here now,” I say, smiling.
Picking up the ceramic pot, she curls one arm around it and walks to the door. She turns to me, pausing. “Thanks again. You don’t know this, but purple happens to be my favorite color.”
“I’m glad it worked out so well,” I say.
She flashes a quick smile my way before exiting my office. I’m glad she likes the plant and that it happens to be her favorite color.
Bracing my elbow on my desk, I rest my forehead in my palm. Being Maeve’s boss means losing out on the chance to learn more about her. A feeling of gloom invades me, permeating every cell in my body and turning my thoughts maudlin.
I’ll never have the opportunity to learn about all her favorite things. Or all the idiosyncrasies that make Maeve who she is—and that fucking sucks.
* * *
Over the last few days, Maeve has done her best to avoid me at work, and I’ve allowed her to have some space. But yesterday before leaving the office, I informed her I needed her help with something tonight. Of course she argued, mentioning she had other plans. I had to play the boss card and act like it was about work, which it’s technically not. But it inadvertently is because we need to be able to spend time together without sucking each other’s faces. When I informed her what time I’d be picking her up, she didn’t take that news well either.
“Are we almost there?” Gwen asks from the back seat.
“Yep, it’s the house on the right with the yellow door.” I pull into the driveway, and almost immediately, Maeve steps onto the landing. While she locks the door, I get out and move around the front of my SUV to open the passenger side door.
Her lips curl slightly. “Hi.”
I flash a wide smile. “Hi back.”
“Hi!” Gwen yells from the back seat.
Maeve ducks her head around me and aims a genuine smile at my daughter. “Hi yourself.”
“I’m Gwen.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Maeve.”
“I know who you are. You work for my dad.”
“You’re right, I do.”
“We should get going,” I say, placing a hand on her arm. She darts away from my touch and into her seat. Shutting her door, I retrace my steps back to the driver’s side and slowly slide behind the wheel.
I immediately feel the weight of her stare burning into the side of my face. I peer over and make eye contact with her.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“You’ll see.”
“I’m here under false pretenses.” Her hand goes to the door handle.
“Don’t go. I shouldn’t have said I needed you for a work thing. But if I hadn’t, would you still be here?”
She rolls her lips inward for a moment, then shakes her head. “I wouldn’t have come.”
“I’m asking you to trust me and to spend a few hours with my daughter and me. Can you do that?”
She needs to agree. But I won’t force her.
“Yes.”
I exhale a relieved sigh. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she says as I back from the driveway. “You might regret bringing me wherever we’re going.”
“Maeve, do you root for the Coyotes?” Gwen calls out.
I’m happy for the change of subject.
“Yes, I do.”
“I wore my favorite Coyotes t-shirt. My grandpa got it for me.”
“Let me see.” She peers into the back seat. “I love that. I only have a sweatshirt. I should get some more gear, but it’s expensive. You’d think with me working for the owner himself, I’d get some free stuff.”
I chuckle. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Dad, you need to give Maeve a cool t-shirt like mine.”
Maeve laughs. “She’s definitely your daughter.”
I nod. “She’s not afraid to express her opinion.”
“Hello. I’m right here.” Gwen lets us know she’s listening.
The rest of the ride passes quickly and silently. I park in the designated lot, and we head down the sidewalk.
“Don’t I get a clue about where we’re going?” Maeve asks.
“We’re almost there,” Gwen says.
Maeve dismissively waves her hand. “Pfft. That’s not a clue.”
“Actually, it is,” Gwen states.
“Oh, look, we’re here.” I open the door, ushering the two of them inside.
“We’re painting?” Maeve asks.
I nod. “We are.”
Maeve smiles. “Okay, maybe I forgive you for lying to get me here.”
“Thank you. I can’t say I enjoy you being angry with me or avoiding me.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Really? I’ll tuck that information away for another time.”
All I hear is “another time.”
“We need to pick what we want to paint. There are a few choices,” Gwen mentions.
Before she can add anything more, a shop employee comes over.
“Hi, Mr. Ledger. I’m Lori. I spoke on the phone with you.”
“Hi, Lori. This is my daughter Gwen and my friend Maeve. We’re ready to get started.”
“If you’ll please follow me, I’ll show you to your private space.” She moves toward the right side of the room where there are three doors. Opening the third one down, she waves us in after her. “You all get an easel and a canvas. The paints and brushes are on the table,” she says, pointing to the back wall. You can wash your brushes in the sink, and there are paper towels to dry them. You choose what you want to paint. There are some examples hanging on the wall if you need something to follow, or you can go wild and paint whatever you’d like. Does anyone have any questions?” The three of us remain quiet and shake our heads. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it, then.”
“Thank you,” I call out as she closes the door.
“I thought she’d never leave,” Gwen says.
Maeve laughs. “Me too.”
“You two are horrible,” I tease, grinning at the sight of them together.
Gwen is the first to choose the easel she wants. “Maeve, paint next to me.”
She nods. “Okay.”
My daughter doesn’t realize it, but she helped me out. By getting Maeve to use the middle easel, she’ll be between Gwen and me. I’ll be able to interact with her in a way I don’t have the freedom to at work. I’ve missed spending time with her. Since I became her boss ten days ago, everything has changed—everything except my desire for her. I’m not sure anything could make that dissipate.
“Gwen, do you know what you want to paint?” Maeve asks.
“Yep. I like the field of flowers with the rainbow in the background. Which one are you doing?”
“The lake with the island in the middle.”
Gwen looks at me. “What about you, Dad?”
“The dragon, of course.”
“Are you sure you shouldn’t pick something with less detail?” she asks.
“What are you trying to say, daughter?”
Her nose wrinkles as she forms a reply. “You might want to choose a simpler design.”
I laugh. “You’re being so diplomatic. I’m assuming it’s for Maeve’s benefit.”
Gwen’s grin is rueful. “Maybe.”
“I appreciate your effort, but Maeve’s going to see my poor rendition of whatever I choose, so I may as well paint what I like.”
Maeve laughs. “I’ll keep my expectations low.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” Gwen says.
I roll my neck and then my shoulders. “I’ll just have to shock you with my painting.”
“Oh, you’ll shock us all right,” Gwen quips, giggling.
Maeve joins in on the laughter.
“Don’t you two have some painting to do? We only have this room for two hours.”
Gwen scrambles over to choose her colors and brushes.
“You have a great kid,” Maeve tells me.
“Thanks. I think so too.”
“It’s sweet how the two of you are so close.”
“Being her dad is my favorite job.”
She smiles. “I can tell.”
Gwen returns to her easel, ready to begin. “What are you two waiting on?”
“We got sidetracked, talking,” Maeve says.
I follow her over to the side table to choose my colors, and edge up beside her. “I think I’m gonna go with red for my dragon,” I say.
“Sounds good.” She takes her time selecting paints and brushes, paying me no mind until I press my arm into hers.
“Do you need something?” She doesn’t even look at me.
“I can think of a few things, but now isn’t the time or place,” I whisper and smirk.
“Hmm. Seems like there isn’t a good time or place, boss.”
Maybe I like it a little too much when she calls me that?
She’s right, but there really isn’t a time or place for me to do what I want. Of course, that didn’t stop me from forcing her to come with us. My common sense doesn’t seem to have a say when it comes to Maeve. My behavior changes direction as often as a ping pong ball. It’s erratic and unpredictable, which is nothing like me.
She returns to her easel, and I amble over to mine. We fall silent as we get lost in the creative process. I take my time, trying to follow the sample painting. I’d like the finished product to actually resemble a dragon.
It’s nice having this room to ourselves. I can focus on having a great time with my daughter and this woman who’s captured my interest from the moment we met.
Speaking of, I sneak a glance at Maeve. Her tongue is tucked into the corner of her mouth as she slowly strokes the brush over the canvas. Her wide blue eyes are intently focused on the small green rowboat she’s adding, and she looks adorable.
“Maeve,” Gwen calls her name, gaining her attention. “Who’s your favorite boss, my grandpa or my dad?”
Maeve’s shoulders shake with laughter. “Definitely your grandpa.” She gives me a side-eye.
“What do you have to say about that, Dad?”
Unconcerned, I shrug. “I don’t think a total of ten days of working for me is long enough for Maeve to be making such a bold declaration. We’ll have to ask her how she feels a few months from now. I bet I’m her favorite by then.” I wink at Maeve as if to say I’ve got this. You don’t stand a chance at resisting me.
God knows, I can’t resist you.
“Maeve, have you ever been for a ride on a Zamboni?”
“And out of left field,” I tease.
Maeve glances at her, shaking her head. “No, I haven’t. Have you?”
She nods. “When I was little, my dad took me for a ride.”
I smile at the memory. She sat in my lap while I drove her around.
Maeve’s lips form a soft smile. “I bet that was fun.”
“I was only like six at the time, so back then it was one of the coolest things ever. But it’s not anymore.”
“That’s how life goes. Say you went back to your kindergarten class. You’re a teenager now, so everything would look much smaller than you remember. Your perspective changes as you grow and also as you get older,” Maeve tells her.
Gwen’s eyes sparkle with rapt interest. “I never thought about that. Now I want to go visit my kindergarten teacher so I can see.”
I laugh. “Don’t tell your dad it was my suggestion,” she says, barely moving her lips.
The fact that she’s hitting it off with Gwen so well makes me like her even more.
By the time the two hours of our allotted time have passed, we’ve all finished painting. Once again, Gwen’s artwork looks professionally done, and Maeve’s is almost equally impressive.
And then there’s mine...
My dragon looks like a Rorschach test. It’s easy to imagine a psychologist asking me “What do you see in the ink blot?”
I may have painted this disaster, but I don’t know what I see. It’s certainly not a dragon.
Gwen and Maeve scoot over to look at my masterpiece.
“That’s a dragon?” Gwen asks.
Maeve makes a choking sound as she struggles to hold in her laughter.
“Sure, pick on the guy who has no artistic ability,” I say, pretending to be offended.
“I thought you were exaggerating when you told me how bad your last painting came out, but I see you weren’t,” Maeve says.
“My strengths lie in physical activities,” I say, pressing my hand on her lower back. The warmth of her skin bleeds through her shirt, heating my palm and stirring my blood.
Her head turns, and her eyes spark with interest. If we were alone, I’d slam my lips on hers and remind her who her body responds to.
But we’re not.
“I’ll take care of putting everything away,” Gwen says. She collects our brushes, then washes and dries them. She returns the paint bottles to the table where they belong. “All set.” She removes her canvas from the easel while Maeve and I do the same.
We leave the room and wave goodbye to Lori as we pass through the main area. I hold the door open for them, and we walk to the parking lot. I place the canvases in the cargo area, and then we settle inside the vehicle.
Gwen and Maeve keep up a steady stream of chatter as I drive. Listening to them warms my heart and makes me wish the circumstances with Maeve and I were different. If I wasn’t her boss, we’d already be consistently spending more time together.
The ride passes much too quickly, leaving me silently cursing as I pull into the driveway. I’m not ready to let Maeve go yet.
“Gwen, it was so nice meeting you.”
“You too.”
I climb out, make my way around to the back, and open the hatch. Removing Maeve’s painting, I close the door, and meet her as she climbs from the passenger side.
“Dad, can we hang out with Maeve again sometime?” Gwen asks.
“I don’t see why not.”
Maeve gives a quick wave toward Gwen and closes the door. I walk beside her to the front door, then place a hand on her arm.
“Thank you for coming with us.”
“Thank you for forcing me.” She laughs, but then turns serious. “Why did you?”
“I wanted to spend time with you. I’d like for us to be friends, so I figured if Gwen was with us, I’d be able to behave.” I drag in a deep breath. “But I really want to kiss you, and it’s killing me not to.”
“I want that too,” she admits, rustling up hope in me. It’s nice to know these feelings are mutual. “But we can’t,” she reminds me.
I drive my fingers through my hair. “Goddammit, this sucks.”
This time she’s the one placing her hand on my arm. “You’re right. It does. I really did have a great time with you and Gwen. She’s a wonderful, intelligent girl, and you’re both lucky to have each other.”
“Thank you. Maybe we can do this again sometime. Or something else?”
She nods. “I’d like that.”
“See you Monday, Sunshine.”
“See you, Trey.”