“I’m not sure what I’m looking for right now. I just got out of a relationship and I’m not even sure what I want. Does that make sense?”
He blows out a breath. “Well, I didn’t know how to approach that topic, but same goes for me. I just got out of one hell of a relationship, and I just want to find someone to laugh with. Buy a pizza or a burger. Maybe catch a concert. So no pressure, Mallory. None at all.”
I shut the drawer, confident I’m not going to find my missing pack of batteries. “Perfect! What time were you thinking?”
“Maybe six? At Backstreet? Do you know where that is?”
“Yup. I’ll just meet you there.”
“I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow then.”
“Same here. Good night.”
I end the call and slide my phone across the counter top, watching it slam into a pile of napkins. They go fluttering in the air, half of them landing on the floor. I just watch with no intention of picking them up.
Keenan’s call should’ve energized me. Dates are exciting, right? I’m not sure Eric even really dated me. Regardless, I’m pretty certain I should have some flutter of excitement. Then again, they usually don’t come on the heels of having Graham Landry tell you he can’t kiss you.
I look Keenan up on social media. He’s cute, about my age, with short hair and big puppy-dog eyes. He apparently plays a guitar and works at a bar. I vaguely remember him.
He does nothing for me. I’m sure he’s sweet—he has some ode to his grandma on one of his pages—but there’s no attraction whatsoever. Still, it will be good to get out of the house and to stop thinking about Graham. Who knows, maybe I’ll fall breathlessly in love with Keenan and can thereby keep my job?
“Ugh,” I say out loud, trying to sort my feelings. They’re a big, messy heap and I can’t even begin to dig out from under it.
My chest constricts, making it hard to breathe. If I had just not said anything, everything would be fine. I’d be looking forward to seeing him in a suit tomorrow and making plans with Joy for the weekend. Instead, I’m allowing him to command my thoughts.
He’s going to fire me. I know it.
Graham
“We’ll be up and running soon,” I say over the steam of my coffee. “I have a few calls to make today, a few things to run by our attorney, then we can sit down next week with Dad and make the final decisions.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, G, for getting this put together. I appreciate it, man,” Ford says, nodding over his mug.
“It’s my job.” Of course it’s more to me than that, but it’s not worth the time it would take to try to explain it. I sit my cup down and take the papers he hands me and stick them in the Landry Security file. “I’ll send these to Mallory this morning and get her started on them.”
Ford takes a long drink, watching me over the brim. “How’s that going?”
“Fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Chuckling, I lean back in my chair. “She’s doing a fine job.”
“I haven’t been gone so long that I forgot how to decipher all your little nuances,” Ford laughs.
“Back to the matter at hand,” I say, bringing him back around to non-Mallory topics, “When do you want to launch?”
“As soon as possible. I’m going fucking crazy sitting around.”
“You? Sit around?” I roll my eyes.
“It was a figure of speech,” he says, standing. “I actually am taking Mom to breakfast today.”
I stand, too, and watch him head to the door. “You’re making me look like the bad son. Before you came home, I just had to compete with Barrett and Linc and that’s not hard.”
He pops open the door, looks across Mallory’s office, then steps back inside my office and closes the door. “How in the hell do you get anything done with her sitting out there?”
Glancing at the clock, it’s three to eight. My stomach churns as I shrug. “I just try not to look.”
“Yeah. Just don’t look,” he chuckles. “You’re telling me you don’t imagine her bent over the copy machine?”
“Not as much as I imagine her bent over my desk.”
His laughter makes me smile. “If your goal is to simply not look at her, you’re going to need to put on blinders today, brother. Fucking hell.”
“You can wear them too, for that matter.” I toss him a look, one that he reads correctly. His hands shoot up in the air, one still holding his cup of coffee.
“I’ll just say good morning. It would be rude not to. Anyway,” he grins cheekily, “what do you care?”
I fix my gaze on him until he shakes his head and gives me a little wave. He leaves the door open so I can hear him greet Mallory as he leaves.
Her voice dances through my office, lifting my heartbeat as the volume of her tone softens. I find myself angling to listen to every last note, a sound I’ve craved since she left the office last night.
I’m beyond fucked. I have no plan for this. I have no clue how to navigate this minefield.
It’s been a long time since I’ve pulled a true all-nighter, but last night, I did. All. Damn. Night. I laid in bed, sat on the sofa, worked in the den, even went for a drive just to try to distract myself from the look on her face when I told her I couldn’t kiss her.
Something about watching her eyes lose their playfulness, feeling her physically distance herself from me, pains me in a terrible way. Seeing that look in her eye made me crave to hold her in my arms, to kiss her until I hear her whisper my name.
As if on cue, I hear her giggle from her desk. I smile even though my gut tenses. Lucky for me, I’m already sitting at my desk when she rounds the corner because if I were still standing, seeing her would knock me on my ass.
My pen clamors against the glass top as it tumbles from my fingers, my jaw going right along with it.
Holy. Shit.
A black dress that looks like it’s wrapped around her in a hundred different pieces, winds tightly around her gorgeous body. Her hair is thick, wild, but strategically so. I see why Ford told me to wear blinders.
“Morning,” she says simply. “I was just coming to shut this. I know you like your first few hours of the day quiet.”
“I’ve already been here a few hours.” My voice sounds robotic and I try to shake out of this spell, but it’s hard—in so, so many ways.
If this is her way of punishing me for not kissing her yesterday, she wins. Punishment doled out and accepted. I’ll have blue balls all fucking day.
She begins to pull the door closed when she stops suddenly. “Oh, don’t forget your nine o’clock meeting called late yesterday and moved it to nine thirty. I bumped your eleven o’clock appointment until after lunch so you’re not rushed.”