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“That was one time,” he grumbled. “Will I have to hear about it for the rest of my life?”
“If you don’t want photos of your eclectic sock collection to circle about the office back in London, then I’m afraid so.” I fought back a smile as I pulled into a parking spot. “With regards to the office here, the idea is that we will transfer our office work here instead of working at the cottage.”
He unclipped his belt and looked across the car at me. “I don’t want to.”
“I wasn’t asking you if you wanted to, sir.” I met his eyes. “There’s a perfectly suitable managerial office here that you’ll work far more effectively in.”
“You haven’t met the manager here yet, have you?”
“No. I haven’t met her and the most recently hired sales associate yet. Wasn’t the manager on holiday?”
“She was. She’s one of the employees who we kept on staff when we took over the company.” He opened his door. “Hold on, I’ll get the ticket.”
Just like that? In the middle of a conversation?
“This man,” I groaned, resting my forehead on the steering wheel. “He just does whatever he bloody wants.”
Like leave without finishing what he was going to say.
He opened the door again and held out a ticket. “Here.”
“Thank you.” I put it on the dashboard and reached into the back for my bag, then got out and locked the car. “Can you finish what you were going to say a moment ago?”
“About the manager?”
“Yes, please, sir.”
He stared at me for a long moment, then cleared his throat and turned away. “Working here while she’s here will be inefficient for me. Anne-Marie is quite… open… with her intentions.”
I blinked. “In other words, she has a crush on you.”
“I suppose that’s one way of putting it,” he said when we reached the street. He touched my shoulders and scooted me to the side, positioning himself by the road instead of me.
I dipped my chin so he couldn’t see the blush that was colouring my cheeks. I didnotneed him touching me or being a gentleman right now.
It wasn’t as though the thoughts lingering within my mind were ladylike.
“We met before the takeover was finalised when me and Dad came up here to interview the staff who wanted to stay on,” he continued. “It was for the weekend, and after the interviews, she was quite persistent in asking me to dinner.”
Hm.
That was annoying.
Wait.
No, it wasn’t. Why the hell did I care? He could have dinner with whoever he liked, whenever he liked.
“Dad suggested we all go and saved me somewhat, but she stuck to me the entire evening.” His tone was dark. “That’s why I can’t work here for too long.”
“She may be different in the office,” I suggested. “People are often different in work and outside of it. You should know that better than anyone right now, sir.”
She wouldn’t be different.
I knew she wouldn’t be—especially not behind closed doors. If she was bold enough to shoot her shot against a potential future boss, I doubted she’d care much now that he was her real one.
“Besides, while you’re here, the office belongs to you, not her,” I went on, fumbling in my bag for the keys to the building as we arrived outside of it. “And she’ll be awfully put out when she realises there’s only one person who can stick to you like glue in the workplace, sir.”
He stepped up behind me and reached around me, plucking the keyring from my hands. “And who’s that, Miss St. James?”
