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“Would you like a doggie bag, Rodney?” I interrupted. “Because we’re leaving.”
Rodney’s dishwater brown eyes registered shock, then narrowed as he exemplified just how annoyed he was. He leapt to his feet, sending the chair flying to the opposite wall. It clanged when it made contact, making everyone in the room flinch except me.
If Scott didn’t have a spot for The Hulk’s little brother, I would have given him something to throw a tantrum about, by firing his ass.
Since he was closest to Tyler and wanted to make it clear that he would have stayed until the janitors came around, he sighed and held out a hand to our host. “Thank you for thinking of Cox Technologies.”
Delia wasted no time exiting, nodding at the Maximum team before promptly vacating the room. I followed suit.
Rodney was hot on my trail, but I booked it down the people mover like I was about to miss my flight. “See you back at the office,” I told him, making it clear that it was the first and last time he was welcome in my car.
I linked up with Delia at the elevator, smiling when she punched the door close button several more times than necessary, shoulders relaxing when the doors closed and it was just she and I.
“I admit that your Tesla is one of my favorite cars you own, and definitely a marvel of modern innovation, but I can’t handle being quiet in the back seat while he touches everything like a child.”
Her porcelain cheeks turned rosy red at her outburst, but I just laughed, relieved I wasn’t the only one that was missing Scott.
“I thought it was just me,” I admitted. Or that I was in an especially rotten mood and that’s why I was ready to choke the life out of the amateur bodybuilder.
She went back to business, smoothing the front of her slacks and hiding her smile. “Definitely not just you. I just-” She paused, the small space filling with whatever was on her mind and her struggle to decide how she wanted to put it. She tapped her foot, rubbing her lips together. When we reached the garage she fell behind me, silent and brooding.
“So, what’s up, Delia?” I said, deciding to be the canary in the mine. If she wasn’t busy managing my calendar and keeping me on my toes, she was scorching earth, leaving me in her dust.
“Me?” she said uncertainly. “Nothing is up with me.”
I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know she wasn’t being honest. I waited for her to settle into the passenger seat and buckle her seatbelt before I started back in. It was getting awfully lonely on Team Jason. My best friend was holding the grudge to end all grudges, Natalee basically told me to fuck off, and now the woman who juggled virtually all the facets of my professional life was also keeping me at a distance? It was too much.
I cut through all the red tape, the engine purring to life. “So, are you gonna tell me what’s going on or are we gonna play twenty questions?”
“Seatbelt,” Delia answered, her eyes on my chest and the absence of a seatbelt strapped across it.
“Okay, Mom,” I grumbled, smirking though because the fact that she cared about my personal safety actually made her the furthest thing from my mother. The last time that woman and I chatted she was living it up in St. Tropez, with her new hubby and their dogs.
Once we were settled and I let the car do its thing, I started back in. “So, what’s up?”
She stopped scrolling on her phone, but she didn’t lift her eyes from the screen. “I could ask you the same thing.”
I knew it drove her crazy when I used auto pilot mode so I did the steering, pulling into the bustling downtown traffic.
“Me? I just saved Cox Technologies from partnering up with a company that cares more about appearing innovative versus real innovation. I give Maximum another year, two tops, before they become utterly irrelevant.”
“But they have people movers and naked sushi!” Delia snickered.
“Wait, was that a joke?” I teased. “Are you feeling well?”
I took my eyes off the road just long enough to see her face harden, but her dark eyes twinkled with a smile I rarely saw. The woman wasn’t even thirty and from her resume and piecing together the sprinkling of something beyond her strict professionalism, I knew she lead a charmed life. She was Ivy League educated, had parents who sent her flowers on her birthday, and as my secretary and personal assistant, made six figures a year. But she had a maturity that most people didn’t reach until later in life, if at all.
The last thing I wanted was to push away one of my few allies, so I decided to let it go and we let the radio do the talking. The DJ from Scott’s wedding was blathering on about current events, so I decided to turn on Audioslave instead.
Delia turned down the volume a notch. “Speaking of naked sushi, you weren’t up for it today?”
“I like my sushi on an actual plate,” I quipped.
“Since when?”
There was no playfulness behind her words and I peered over at her, my grip tightening on the wheel. “I’m not that boorish am I? Like Rodney and every other man in that room?”
“There’s only one Rodney,” she answered.
