I choke back a laugh of my own. “What exactly is an ‘I want you’ laugh?” I have to ask.
She waves her hand. “Oh, you know, the one that makes women seem desperate. The laugh that you know is fake, and so does the offender, but she doesn’t care. She wants the guy’s attention and she knows stroking his ego will get it.”
Sure enough, we get to the end of the aisle and find Zane standing too close to one of the store employees. She’s looking at him like he’s her next meal and laughing at almost everything he says. She reaches out and touches him, and he moves closer.
“See what I mean?” Berklee whispers.
“You nailed it,” I whisper back.
“It’s sad, really. She’s a pretty girl. She should hold out for someone who really makes her laugh.”
It’s with those words that she walks toward the couple. Zane spots her and introduces them. I follow behind and watch her as she says hello and then tells Zane that it’s time to go, almost like a mother hen. I watch as the girl grabs a business card off the counter and scribbles something on it—her number, I assume—then hands it to him. Zane winks at her and then turns his attention to Berklee, looking over her shoulder to find me.
“Got everything?”
“Yeah,” I mumble as I roll the cart to the checkout line.
WE PULL UP outside the club and I’m ready to get out of this damn truck. I’m sexually attracted to my very hot, very close boss, and the ten-minute drive felt like a lifetime. I need some space to separate us, to move away from his musky scent, the one that has me rubbing my thighs together.
“Berklee, we can get this stuff. You’ve worked all day. Go ahead and head home,” Crew says, opening his door.
I nod and start to turn toward Zane’s door when Crew’s deep yet soft voice rumbles next to my ear, “I got you.” He offers me his hand. My body instantly reacts to his voice, to the feel of his hot breath against my ear. Get a grip, Berklee. You can’t go there.
Taking a deep breath, I place a smile on my face and take the hand he’s offering. I hold my skirt with the other and, as graceful as possible, hop out of his truck. I stumble on my heels and his other hand—his rather large hand, I might add—wraps around my waist and pulls me close to him, saving me from falling to the pavement but heating my body even more. “Thank you,” I say, resting my hands in his chest. I take a little longer than necessary to get my bearings because he’s so close. I eventually push back, stepping out of his hold. I keep my eyes on his chest; I don’t want to see those dark eyes, the intensity in them.
“You good?” he asks, holding his hand close to my hip as if I might fall again. Part of me wants to stumble just to feel his arms around me one more time, but I know it’s a bad idea. I need to get my attraction to him and lock it down tight.
I need this job. I want it.
“Yeah,” I say, taking another step back so I’m out of his reach. “Same time tomorrow?” I ask him—well, his chest.
“That works, as long as it’s not too much for you.”
“It’s fine. I’ll be here around four.”
“Hope to have some interviews set up,” Zane says, walking to where Crew and I are still standing by the driver’s door.
“Great. I’m excited to get started.” I take another step away from them. “Well, gentlemen, I’ll see you both tomorrow afternoon.” I wave awkwardly and turn toward my car. I don’t look back. I don’t make eye contact. Instead I make sure my Bluetooth is connected and call Maggie.
“How did it go?” she asks.
“Mags!” My voice comes off as a whine.
“What?”
“It’s him. Crew, it’s him.”
“Crew? What are you talking about?”
“Mr. Super Sexy Beard is Crew Ledger, aka my new boss.”
“Oh shit.” She laughs.
Really? “It’s not funny,” I scold.
“Yeah, it really kind of is, B.” She laughs harder.
Ugh! I hit End on my cell phone.
I just hung up on my best friend. I don’t think in all the years that we’ve known each other have I ever done that. She immediately calls back, but I don’t answer. I’ll be home soon, and then she can laugh at me face-to-face all she wants.
When I pull into the driveway she’s standing on the porch. I take my time getting out of the car and slowly make my way to where she’s standing.
“I’m sorry,” she says immediately.
I feel the stress of the day weighing me down. “What am I going to do, Maggie?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m attracted to him. He’s my boss.”
“Let’s go inside.”
I follow her in the house and look around. Thankfully, Barry isn’t home. “Let’s hear your wisdom, oh wise one,” I say, flopping down on the couch.
Maggie laughs. “Okay, so Crew, the guy you’ve been flirting with the last, what, week or so?”
I nod.
“Right, so he’s your new boss and you’re crazy attracted to him.”
“I think we’ve covered that.”
“Just doing a quick replay. Honestly, I say try to fight it.”
“Great advice,” I deadpan.
“I wasn’t finished, smartass. Once you spend some time with him, you’ll know if it’s just his looks or the man himself who attracts you.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What happens if I try to fight it and I find out that it’s him, the whole package, that has me panting after him? Then what?”
Her reply is immediate. “Then act on it.” She shrugs as if it’s not a big deal.
“Hello.” I wave my hands in front of her face. “Did you forget the part where I told you that he was my boss? As in my livelihood depends on me working for him?”
“I didn’t forget, but honestly, Berklee, life is too damn short. If you’re that attracted to him and he returns that sentiment, you’re both mature adults. I say go for it. If it doesn’t work out, you’ll have the experience from the club under your belt and can cut your losses and move on.”
“I don’t want to move on. I’m excited about this job,” I whine.
“How do you know you’ll have to?”
“You have your dream job,” I tell her. “I want mine.”
She laughs. “Right, I’m just a sub right now, B. No matter how badly I want to work at Garrison full time, it’s not yet my reality.”
She’s right and now I feel like a bitch. “I know. I’m sorry, I just don’t know how to handle this.”
“How is he treating you?”
I tell her about how he warned Zane of interoffice relationships and then the way he treated the guy at the office supply store.
“He wants you.” She grins. “He’s fighting it too. When this”—she swirls her finger in a circular motion around me—“finally comes to a head, it’s going to be combustible.”
“Not helping,” I tell her. I hear the front door open and groan.
“Let’s get a man’s perspective,” Maggie says, motioning for Barry to join us in the living room.
“What’s going on?” he asks, eyeing me. He knows me just as well as Maggie does.