“What did I miss?” Berklee asks.
“Oh, nothing,” Zane says, wiping tears from his eyes.
Berklee shrugs like this is normal Zane behavior and leads us into the store.
“Eyes,” I grumble, and he laughs harder. He opens his mouth and I throw my hand up, stopping him. “Not a word,” I say, then quicken my stride to catch up to Berklee. I keep step beside her, placing my hand on the small of her back once again, not moving it until we’re in the store. I’ve crossed the line of unprofessional and I shouldn’t risk it any further, but when I see the sales guy eating her up with his eyes, I want to knock his ass to the ground and take her away.
“Looking for tall office chairs,” I hear her tell him. I watch as he takes her in from head to toe, lingering on her legs.
“For me,” I say, stopping next to her. I’m not standing so close that we’re touching but close enough that this jackhole gets the drift. Don’t look.
His head pops up and he has to tilt it back to look up at me. I’m six-one, so not a giant, but this guy, he’s not much taller than Berklee, whom I’m guessing is about five-five, five-six. “Right this way,” he says, turning and walking away.
“Damn, Crew, did you have to scare the guy?” Zane says from beside me.
“I didn’t scare him,” I grumble, then follow Berklee who is behind the sales guy.
“This is our tall chair section,” he says.
Berklee turns to me. “Start sitting.” She grins.
I can’t help it; I grin back at her. I try out the “tall” chairs, as does Zane.
“How do they feel? Lean back, slouch, all that. Make sure you’re going to be comfortable.”
We do as she says, moving around in each chair. It doesn’t take us long to find what we want, both choosing the same one. “What about you?” I ask her.
“I’m sure mine will be in the next row over.”
“I can show you,” the sales guy pipes up.
“Oh, no, thank you. We would like two of these if you could get them ready. I’ll find mine in the meantime.”
She effectively dismissed him. She was polite and professional, but I can read through the lines; she was either pissed from how he was looking at her earlier or trying to diffuse my anger. First day on the job and she has me pegged. If she only knew where that anger was coming from. She probably thinks I’m pissed that he’s objectifying her, and I am, but even more so that he’s looking at her at all. I don’t want anyone looking at her. Not like that.
Zane’s laughter captures my attention. Shaking out of my thoughts, I look over and see what’s so funny. Berklee is sitting in a black leather chair and spinning in circles. She looks like a little girl, and that smile on her face.
Beautiful.
“You like that one?” I ask her. I have this irrational twisting in my gut. I want to be a part of her joy, her laughter.
She plants her feet on the ground to stop spinning. Looking up at me, her face flushed, she smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, this one will work.” I can tell she’s trying to bring herself back from the high she just spun herself into and be professional.
Little does she know, professionalism walked out the door the minute I found out Zane hired her.
“Nice choice,” the sales guy says to Berklee.
Does he have a death wish?
“We’ll take it,” she says, her tone all business once again. She stands and smooths out her skirt. “Do we need anything else? Printers? Office supplies?” she asks me.
“Printers, no. I ordered those when I ordered the computers. Office supplies, yeah,” I say, placing my hand on the back of my neck. What the fuck do I know about ordering office supplies.
“For the three of us?” she asks.
“Yeah, and maybe for behind the bar too, just in case,” I suggest.
“I’m on it.” I watch as she grabs a cart that seems to have been abandoned at the end of the aisle and walks off.
“I did good, huh?” Zane says, knocking his shoulder into mine.
“Too early to tell,” I say, lying through my teeth. This is . . . more than I bargained for. However, if I’m being honest with at least myself, I can admit that Zane did good. Real good.
Zane chuckles and I walk off to follow Berklee. I catch up to her in the Post-it aisle, watching as she checks each pack carefully. “What are you doing?” I ask.
She quickly raises her head, apparently unaware that I was watching her. “Getting the best bang for our buck. Checking the number of Post-its versus the price.” She says it like I should’ve known.
“Berklee, I can afford whichever ones you want.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s about getting the best deal. That’s great that you have money, and it’s my job to make sure you keep it that way.”
She settles on what I assume is the best—what did she say, bang for my buck?—and throws two packs in the cart. I step behind the cart and motion with my head for her to move down the aisle. “I got this,” I tell her.
“We need pads of paper, and printer paper. I assume the printers will come with at least starter ink. I can order more once I know what kind we’re going to need. Oh, and we’ll need pens. I think that’s it for now.”
I follow her as she stops and studies the pens. Looking down to the cart, I see three staplers and three tape dispensers, along with a sleeve each of staples and tape.
“Now the paper,” she says, placing some pens and highlighters in the cart.
I don’t say anything, just follow her down the aisle and into the next. Cases of paper are lined up and she immediately goes to the lower price. She bends as if she’s going to pick it up. “Stop!” I say, probably louder than I needed to. “Sorry,” I mumble. “Let me get it.” I rush to her side and easily lift the case, placing it in the bottom of the cart.
“Thank you.” She looks around. “Where’s Zane?”
Why is she looking for him? “Left him at the chairs,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. This causes her to laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“You don’t know how many times all of us would get together to go out and Zane would end up getting lost in the crowd. I swear that guy doesn’t know a stranger.”
Relief and more annoyance that he knows her. That he’s spent time with her. It pisses me off because I can’t have her. She works for me and I have to focus on the club. A guy could lose himself to a girl like Berklee. I would lose myself to her. All the more reason to keep this professional.
She works for me. That’s the extent of our relationship.
I hear a woman laugh and I would bet my life Zane is with her.
“I think we found him.” She smiles up at me.
“You know him well.”
“Not really. I mean, we’ve hung out, and he’s at all the family functions that I go to with Maggie and Barry, but I wouldn’t say that I know him. I do know that he likes the ladies, and with his looks and personality I can only assume that he’s behind that throaty, ‘I want you’ laugh.”