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I believe I've already discussed my struggles with controlling my emotions when it comes to him. But this is a whole new level. If I was honest, I'd admit my urge to silence him by grabbing the back of his head and pulling his mouth to mine, but that's wildly inappropriate. So, let's pretend I never brought it up.
He tilts his head to the side, leaning down to whisper in my ear, close enough that I can feel his breath on my neck. Every hair on my arms involuntarily stands at attention like they're saluting. He does not deserve my saluting arm hairs.
"Believe it or not, I do care about this place, and my parents, and you." He's so hot, so obnoxiously good-looking. My body, curse it, would love for him to—
"Deacon?"
Deacon steps away from me, staring at his father who has just appeared in my office doorway. He smooths back his hair, trying to look casual. "Hey, Dad, what's going on?"
Mr. Reynolds takes in the scene, his expression revealing everything about our awkward positioning. I feel a flush ofembarrassment creeping up my cheeks. "I'm not interrupting, am I?" he says with a playful twinkle in his eye.
"Of course not," I quickly answer.
He can't hold back a smile. "Ok, I'm glad. Sasha just wanted to see her Daddy." He steps aside and a little girl appears, her big brown eyes filled with tears. She looks like Deacon, though her hair is a shade lighter. She's adorable, with wavy black hair and pale skin.
Deacon hurries over to his daughter and wraps her up in his arms, lifting her tiny feet off the ground. "What's wrong, Sasha?" His tone has totally changed. Gone is the serious, grumpy look on his face, and it’s immediately replaced with a softer, gentler appearance.
I can't stop myself from listening and feeling guilty for doing so. I lean against my desk, arms folded, trying to be a fly on the wall. Sasha nuzzles into his shoulder, clinging to him, and her small sniffle hits me right in the heart.
"Sasha, it's ok," Deacon coos, and I turn to my computer, trying to give them some semblance of privacy. "Tell me what's wrong. I'll do anything I can to help."
She mumbles something against her father's shirt, and I keep clicking through the files on my computer, mindlessly sorting paperwork so I have a reason to be here... in my own office.
"Harper," Deacon interrupts my pretend busy work. "Would you mind showing Sasha to the ladies room? She likes to be a big girl and doesn't like going into the men's anymore."
I nod immediately.
"I still have some things to discuss with you. So when you're through, you can bring her back to my father's office, if you don't mind."
I glance at the little girl. "Not at all."
"Thanks." Deacon places his daughter back on the carpet and swoops down, peppering her small face with kisses until shesqueals and the tears dry. He hugs her one last time and turns her to face me. "This is Daddy's friend Miss Harper."
Sasha's face is still red, but it looks as if she's going to be all right. I get down to eye level and wave hello, but she just holds tighter to Deacon's pants.
"It's ok, Sash. You can trust Harper," he says but she still looks unsure.
"Hi, Sasha, it's nice to meet you. I'll show you where the restroom is, okay?" I ask.
Sasha shakes her head and shifts back shyly. I was an only child and don't have much experience with children. But food always seem like a great way to win them over.
"How about we get a snack too?" I offer. She must really be hungry because this time Sasha comes to my side immediately. She waves goodbye to Deacon and her grandfather, and we head down the hall together in silence. She doesn't seem like she wants to talk yet, so I don't want to push her.
When she comes out of the bathroom, we meander to the employee vending machine. I get two bags of pretzels. "Thank you," Sasha says quietly when I hand her one.
She stills looks a little sad so I take two pretzels and put them over my eyes like glasses. That gets the slightest upturn of her lips, so I put another one on my tongue and stick it out with an 'ahhh'. That does it. She giggles and giggles. It's the most adorable sound.
When she's caught her breath, I ask, "How do you like it here so far?"
She looks up at me with her big brown eyes and just shrugs.
"Do you miss your friends in New York?"
Sasha lets out a heavy sigh. "I didn’t have a lot of friends."
It hurts to hear that. "I could be your friend here, if you like?"
Her lips disappear into her mouth as she chews on them, considering what I've said. Then she looks up at me, "Yes. I'd like that."
