“Fine,” I acquiesce. “But no funny business, Kyler.” Saying his name feels strange, it sounds foreign coming from my mouth. I imagine what it would should like if I were to scream it in the throws of passion. The thought makes my cheeks warm and my thighs, and my pussy, clench. Sweet baby Jesus, reign it in! Control yourself for pity’s sake!
“No funny business,” he agrees, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Until you decide you want me.”
I snort, rather unladylike, and roll my eyes as I take a step back from him. The distance is needed. “As if. We’re working together, and that’s it.” Kyler shakes his head, chuckling. “When my father asked me to help you, he didn’t mention what a little hellcat you are. Must be those Georgia roots.” He turns around and starts taking out the food he bought. I stare at the back of his head.
“What? You father asked you to help me?” Until now, I thought Kyler only wanted to help me to get closer to me. Why I thought that I don’t know, considering we barely know anything about each other. But I was wrong. This wasn’t his choice.
Something akin to disappointment burrows its way into my chest, but I push it down in the hopes that it will be smothered. I’m being ridiculous. “Yes, he - ”
“And how did you know I’m from Georgia?”
This should have ben my biggest concern, but as always, I’m more worried about impressing my boss than having Kyler find out I come from nothing. Not that I’m ashamed. It’s just not something I want people to know about me. It doesn’t define who I am, but it certainly influences what people think about me, and I’m in no way inclined to have people think I’m a hick. Kyler holds my gaze, and I catch but a glimpse of the power he exudes. It’s the kind of gaze that would make anyone shrink and cower on the spot. But I refuse to give him the satisfaction. Because the way his eyes hold mine, turns me on. “I read your employee file.”
“Why?”
There’s a pregnant pause, and at first I don’t think he’ll give me an answer. He doesn’t have to. He is after all taking over this company from his father, from what I’ve assumed, and it;s only natural for him to want to get to know his employees.
But something about it tells me that’s not that case.
“I was curious,” he finally replies, turning to face me.
“About what? Did you go through anyone’s else’s files?”
A flicker of embarrassment flits across Kyler’s face and I’m almost sure his cheeks are hue faintest shade of red. He’s blushing?
With a shrug of his shoulder, he simply says, “You.”
When he leaves the remainder of my question unanswered, my conclusion hangs between us. He didn’t read up on anyone else. Just me.
My curiosity burns, and I ache to ask him what else he found out about me. I have nothing to hide, but knowing he was curious about me sends a scorching thrill through my entire body. Not helping, I tell myself.
The silence is broken by the sound of my stomach rumbling. Kyler and I both chuckle, the seriousness of the moment broken. The tension between us simmers down, and I relax for the first time since Kyler walked into my office. “Are you hungry?” he asks, his deep husky voice full of mirth. “I hope you like Chinese.”
Tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, I smile. “I’m starving, and I love Chinese.”
I step up to his side and look down. “Is that Beef Chow Mein?” He shrugs. “I believe it is.”
“It’s my favorite,” I tell him. I pick up a plastic fork and put a piece of the delicious meat in my mouth.
“I know.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “That’s definitely not in my employee file.” This time he looks sheepish. “I called Quinn, and asked her what you liked. I knew if I called you, you wouldn’t have told me.”
I have no response to that. Because he’s right. I wouldn’t have told him had he asked me.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
He smiles at me, and I can tell he means it. “You’re welcome.”
Kyler dishes up our food and we take a seat on the carpet, our backs against the small sofa I have in the corner.
We eat in a comfortable silence for a while, and I can feel Kyler’s eyes on me. But I’m feeling too confused, and perhaps a little bashful, to meet his inquisitive stare.
To be honest, I feel a little silly, for behaving the way I did yesterday, and more so for thinking was anything more than what it is. Work. The realization has a mixture of relief and something I can’t name colliding in my chest. As soon as we’re done eating, we get to work. I open up the presentation on my laptop and give Kyler a run down of what I’m going to be proposing to the board. The idea is to introduce Knight Media to the new sphere of digital publishing. It entails the introduction of eBooks, and the implementation of a self-publishing platform which will allow aspiring writers to publish and sell their work independently. According to my research, eBook sales have increased significantly over the past year and have overtaken traditional trade paperback sales. This presents Knight Media with an opportunity to tap into a previously unexplored market, while opening itself up to new potential clients. Kyler gives me a few suggestions here and there and I find his opinions and insights helpful. He’s smart, and it’s just another item on a long list of things that I kind of like about him. I’m starting to realize that the old adage “Don’t judge a book by it’s cover” actually holds true. He listens attentively, and aside from a few accidental brushes against my arm and my hands, he takes our working together seriously.
I’m in the middle of explaining the forecasted sales for the next year, should the board of directors agree to go ahead with my proposal, when my phone rings. I jump up quickly and fish it out my bag, apologizing to Kyler for having to interrupt our work. I frown when I don’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Hi, Cassey. It’s Drew.”
I cringe. So not the person I want to be talking to now. I walk to the window, aware that Kyler can probably hear my conversation anyway. Should I care that he can hear?
“Oh,” I pause. “Hi, Drew.”
“I got your number from Quinn, I hope it’s okay that I’m calling.” I turn to look at Kyler. He’s scowling, and I can’t tell if it’s directed at me, or Drew.
“Uh, now’s not actually a good time, I’m still - ”
“Listen,” Drew interrupts me. Irritation blooms and I grip my phone a little tighter. He’s being rude. “I was wondering if you’d be my date for my parents anniversary party next weekend. I need a date and Quinn said you’re available.” Well, fuck. If he puts it like that, how can a girl say no?
“Don’t worry,” he continues, not allowing me to respond. “I know you can’t afford a fancy dress or anything. Quinn said you can just borrow something of hers for the night.”
What the…? Is this guy being serious?
I remain silent, unable to get the angry words past the lump in my throat. “Hello? Cassey? Are you there?”
“I, uh..” I stutter. “Yes, I’m sill here.”
“Then why don’t you answer me?”