Chapter Eighteen
Xavier
As I push through the gym doors, the scent of rubber mats and citrus cleaner fills my nose. It’s better than the rotten garbage in the nearby dumpster.
I’ve got a job site waiting, unfinished payroll, and a crew that’ll lose their shit if I forget to order more safety glasses…. But here I am.
To work out. That’s it.
The bell jingles behind me, and I spot the flowers before I see her. They sit on the front desk like they don’t belong there, white lilies, red roses, and a shiny-ass ruby red ribbon tied too neatly for a place that smells like disinfectant and sweat.
Ruby is bent over the computer, a strand of hair falling loose near her cheek. She tucks it back, fingers lingering like she’s concentrating so hard she’s blocked everyone else out.
When I stop in front of the desk, she blinks up at me.
“Hey.” The idea of someone bringing her flowers sits wrong. I shut that thought down fast. “Those yours?”
Her eyes follow mine. For a split second, something uneasy crosses her face before she smooths it away. “Looks like it.”
“From the same guy?”
“Probably.” Her mouth tenses up as she lifts a shoulder. “The lettering was the same as the one for the chocolates.”
The lettering was the same? “You mean to tell me you’ve received a second gift without a name attached?” This asshole has a lot of nerve.
“Yes.” She lifts a shoulder. “No one has claimed responsibility, but I assume it was Brent.”
I rest my hands on the counter, willing them not to ball into fists. “You need to tell him to stop.”
“I told him I wasn’t interested,” she says. “Again.”
The word sits between us like a warning. “Clearly, he needs a dictionary, or better yet, a more direct warning.”
She huffs a laugh, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “He’ll get the hint eventually.”
“Or he won’t.” I glance around the gym looking for the guy. I don’t know him, but I know what he looks like. Dark hair. Muscular, but not bulky. Sleeveless shirts. Always with the sleeveless T-shirts.
Her brow and nose wrinkle. “You’re being dramatic.”
He’s nowhere to be seen. My attention returns to the flowers, at the careful ribbon. At the way the card is tucked between the stems as if it belongs there. “I don’t like anonymous.”
Her brow furrows. “Not a fan of secret admirers?”
“People who don’t put their name on things are the same types of people who don’t take no for an answer. Not my favorite personality type.”
She studies me. “You’re making it bigger than it is.”
“Am I?”
“It’s flowers, Xavier.”
“It was chocolates on Saturday.”
She looks away, adjusting a stack of papers that don’t need adjusting. “I told you. It’s probably Brent.”
“But what if it isn’t him? What if it’s someone else you’ve never even thought about?”
“It has to be. No one else has asked me out.” She pauses for a moment. “Recently.”
Across the gym, someone drops a weight with a crash that rattles the mirrors. Ruby jumps, but neither of us looks.
“You don’t have to stay here.”
Her eyes snap back to mine. “Excuse me?”
“At the job.” I choose my words carefully.
I know how independent Ruby is, but this is stalking behavior.
And I don’t like it. Not Ruby specifically; I wouldn’t like it if it were happening to any woman.
But it is Ruby. “If this guy keeps showing up. If he thinks this is okay.” I nod toward the flowers. “You don’t have to deal with that.”
She frowns and shakes her head. “I’m not quitting my job over a bouquet. That’s excessive.”
“I didn’t say quit.” I rotate my shoulders to ease the tension that settled there the second I saw the vase in front of her. “Just… consider your options.”
“What options? This is Brookhaven. It’s not like there’s a ton of jobs that come open every day.” Her brow furrows. “I don’t want to drive back and forth to the city.”
“Our office is a mess,” I add, like that explains anything. “Receptionist position is open. Dad’s drowning in paperwork. Phones ring off the hook. No one knows the clients.”
“You’re a recruiter now?”
“I’m informing you of an opening. There’s a difference.”
A beat passes before she says, “I’m fine where I am.”
“Alright.” It’s not. I straighten, pushing away from the counter. “You should throw those out.”
“They’re flowers.”
“They’re from someone who doesn’t respect boundaries.” My jaw tightens. “And likes hiding in the shadows.”
“Half this town doesn’t respect boundaries.” Her voice is light, as if she’s trying to make a joke out of the situation. It’s not working.
There’s a faint tension at the corners of her mouth as her fingertips tap once against the counter like she’s resisting the urge to fidget. She’s unsettled. And I don’t like it.
Not because someone is pursuing her. Because they’re doing it wrong. Secret admirers might be a good draw for a movie, but docudramas of crazy stalkers are just as popular.
“Text me if he shows up again.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
She stands as if sitting is more than she can tolerate. “Why would I do that?”
“So I know.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “So you know what?”
Or maybe it’s me that she can’t tolerate. Me being in her business. Telling her what to do.
“That he didn’t take the hint.”
Her gaze holds mine a second longer than usual. Something unreadable flickers there. “I can handle it.”
“I know.” I don’t doubt she can, but I can handle it too.
The bell jingles as someone new walks in. Ruby’s attention shifts, professional smile snapping into place.
“Hi, welcome in,” she says, like nothing is wrong, like the flowers aren’t sitting inches from her elbow. Like the card tucked between the stems doesn’t exist.
I step back. This isn’t my business. She isn’t mine to protect. The flowers are probably from the gym guy. The chocolates were probably from the gym guy. And she’s capable of shutting him down.
I stride for the door—the bell jingles. Outside, the air is colder than it should be.
Shit. I didn’t touch a single weight. I shove my hands into my jacket pockets and stride for the truck.
Payroll isn’t going to finish itself. And thinking about Ruby Bennett is not on today’s schedule.