Chapter 5 #2
Good question, since I had no business talking about honey lapping—even if it was entirely fictional—in the workplace.
But what else was I supposed to say? April had already detailed my donut weakness.
If I gave Ryan any more ammunition about my preferences for sweets, who knows what she would do with such information?
And she was still emailing me. Over and over. By now, I suspected she really had resorted to one word each, because there was no way she could have that much to say to a man she didn’t even know.
I didn’t click on her emails. Instead, I put a call into the IT department of the public relations firm on the second floor. Talking about lapping honey from Colleen had given me the idea that maybe she could fix my damn notifications. Quicker than I could, that was for sure.
“What did you break this time, Pres?” The laughter in her voice managed to tease out a smile.
“Nothing. I don’t think so, anyway. I keep getting email notifications and I don’t want them. You need to make them stop.”
Colleen’s laughter didn’t grate on my nerves like Ryan’s. Even in theory, her laughter pissed me off. “This is an easy one. You go into your settings, which is that gray button with the little cog wheel I showed you last time—”
“I did all that,” I said impatiently. “She’s still emailing me.”
“She?” Colleen clucked her tongue. “Are you finally dating and holding out on me?”
“No. Absolutely not. Not in this life or any other.”
“Well, that was rather vehement.” More laughter at my expense.
That was just how this week was going, evidently.
Colleen promised to stop by before lunch, and I ended the call during another flurry of email dings. Then I settled upon a novel solution. Within a few clicks, the soothing sounds of Chopin brought a sense of calm heretofore lacking in my day.
Smiling smugly, I went back to my notes.
I worked on them for a while before looking up again, when the tickle in my throat turned to a full-blown need for water.
I rose to pour a glass and foolishly decided to look out the window of my office to ascertain Ryan hadn’t yet burned down the place.
I didn’t know what she was doing to occupy herself in lieu of instructions from me, but I hoped she could at least manage to take phone calls without being told to do so, along with dealing with any foot traffic.
One glance into the outer office told me that yes, she was dealing capably with such. Even if the feet in question were hers—as in one propped on the edge of her desk while she painted her toenails and smiled far more warmly at another man than she had at me.
The man was Dexter Shaw. Also known as my little brother.
The affable asshole.
I returned to my desk and pushed the button for April’s line. She took three rings to answer. “Hi there. Miss me?”
She sounded breathless and amused. I liked her voice that way too much, despite knowing who had made her smile—and it wasn’t me.
“Don’t let him take you to lunch.”
For a moment, silence reigned on the line. I had a feeling that didn’t happen often with Ryan. “Oh, your charming younger brother?” She chuckled. “Dex, were you going to ask me to lunch? PMS says I shouldn’t go.”
PMS? What the fuck was that all about?
It took me a few seconds to recall my unfortunate initials. No one had ever dared call me that, at least to my face. Leave it to Miss Moon.
Who was grinning up at Dexter while he raked a hand through his dark hair and grinned back. He was probably telling her I had a stick up my ass and I was jealous of him, because of course I was.
The worst of it? He was telling the truth. Everything was easy for him. He didn’t have a care in the world, and sometimes it felt as if my shoulders would crack under the weight of all I carried.
“PMS? Oh, he isn’t going to like that.”
“He doesn’t like much from what I can tell.”
“Mr. Prim and Proper has never had a nickname. Not a public one, anyway. But he gave me a good idea. Do you have lunch plans, Ry?”
He had already shortened her name. Wasn’t that sweet? He was just the best at inter-office relations.
“You know, I don’t. I didn’t even get breakfast since my fritter was in his sack.”
Dex laughed. “Sounds kinky.”
Listening to their banter through the phone was akin to hell. If I leaned to the right just far enough, I could catch a glimpse of Ryan painting her big toe and flashing entirely too much leg at my irritating brother. He was looking at her as if she was a tasty snack, if not the whole meal.
And suddenly, I was more than a little tired of watching Dex eat his way through a sea of women. Especially when it involved my assistant.
Temporary assistant, I reminded myself.
“You do have lunch plans, Miss Moon.” I cleared my throat. “With me.”
She didn’t answer right away. “I think I’m busy.”
“You are not.”
“Says who?”
“Your boss.”
“Only temporarily and I’m already counting down the hours.”
I hung up.
After that, a couple of things occurred almost simultaneously.
I developed a raging headache which required a double dose of Tylenol. My brother texted me to inquire if I was cool with him “pitching to Ry,” to which I did not respond. And possibly blocked his phone number.
Knowing Dex’s love of sports references, that question probably hadn’t been sexual. But I wasn’t taking the chance.
During lunch—which I still could not believe I’d suggested—I was going to make it clear that Ryan understood the strict no fraternization policy.
So strict it just had popped into being a few minutes ago while Ryan was painting on toenail polish that matched her celery green pumps.
Shortly after that, Colleen stepped off the elevator.
Since I was watching to see if Dex slunk back to Ryan’s desk to try again, I caught Ryan’s interaction with Colleen.
I couldn’t hear what was being said, but Ryan’s bright smile faded as Colleen pointed at my door and shook back her efficient brown braid.
I had no reason to be pleased at Ryan’s smile disappearing. Yet I was positively sunny when Colleen knocked and opened my door, poking her head in. “Have time for me now?”
“I always have time for you. You know that.” If I replied a touch louder than was necessary, so what? I was allowed to express appreciation at a friend doing a favor for me.
Colleen shut the door behind her and propped her hands on her hips. “You neglected to tell me one thing about who was blowing up your email.”
“Blowing up is a bit harsh.”
“It’s a figure of speech, Pres. You need to get out more, you know that?”
“Tell me that after I think you’re having a ménage with Ben and Jerry.”
That she didn’t even blink as she came to my desk said plenty about how long she’d known me. She grabbed my pen and a piece of paper and block-printed a message.
I wasn’t sure why Colleen had resorted to notes, but perhaps she suspected Ryan had her ear pressed to the door.
I wouldn’t put it past her.
With trepidation, I read what she’d written.
She’s a hottie.
I grunted.
“C’mon, you don’t think so?”
“She’s my assistant while April is on vacation.”
“She’s sitting at her desk, but not sure she’s really assisting you. She’s reading Cosmopolitan.”
I waved it off. “Whatever keeps her busy and not bothering me.”
Frowning, she leaned over the desk and touched my forehead as if she was checking for fever. “You okay?”
At that instant, a knock sounded at the door.
It opened before I had a chance of answering in the affirmative. Not that I would have. I was much safer when Ryan stayed on the other side of the threshold.
Now she was glaring daggers at me as Colleen leaned precipitously across my desk and pulled her hand away from my face.
One part of my brain logged Ryan’s reaction as fascinating. The rest of me decided the better part of valor was to dig deeper into my metaphorical hole.
“I’m okay as long as you’re here,” I said to Colleen, who was not moved by my shenanigans. Then I cocked my head and acknowledged Ryan. “Can I help you, Miss Moon?”
“You sure can, boss.” She sailed in and gave Colleen a thin smile before she snatched the bakery bag off my desk. “I know we have lunch soon, but I’m just famished. And you took my fritter.”
I was about to tell her to take the bag and go, but she didn’t want the bag itself. No, she just withdrew one plump pastry, positively dripping with glaze and caramel. And proceeded to bite in, sending a spray of crumbs into the vee of her dress like roadmap leading to a not-so-buried treasure.
She might as well have said checkmate.
Damn, she was beautiful. With her flashing blue eyes, smirk around her mouthful of pastry, and sex dungeon scent, she was dangerous in more ways than I could count.
Probably because watching her eat had sucked all skill at mathematics—and everything else—out of my head.
“Lunch soon.” Colleen blinked innocently. “I should hurry up and fix that pesky issue with your computer then. You know, why you called me down here.”
I grunted again. I wasn’t one to outright lie, especially when I had no clue what the hell I was doing right now.
“I’ll just get back to work.” Ryan’s smile was as close to a non-verbal fuck you as I’d ever seen.
It was obscenely hot.
“April needs to come back from vacation,” I said as soon as Ryan vacated my office. Which was not fast enough to suit the stiff column in my trousers.
I hid it by walking over to my mini bar while Colleen tinkered with my desktop. I had another half glass of bourbon since it was there, and my head was about to explode.
It was up for debate which head of the two would combust first.
“She’s been gone, what, half a day? You’re in deep.”
“This is only my second glass, and a half at that.”
“I wasn’t referring to your alcohol consumption, although that says plenty.” Colleen spun around in the chair to face me. But I didn’t do the same, since I was currently willing the pole in my pants not to embarrass me. “Why can’t you just ask her out?”