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This honey feeling, sweet and warm and gooey, won’t leave me alone. I feel myself nodding. “I—I think that would work.”
“Good.”
We fall into step, side by side, as we head for his car.
Brock opens the passenger door for me. I can’t help but notice more heads turning. My coworkers want to know why I’m getting into the CEO’s car.
Heck—I want to know, myself.
This is not the escape I had planned.
Far from it.
Chapter 13
Gwen
This isn’t a date, I remind myself as I walk next to Brock along the leaf-carpeted pathway through the sprawling dog park.
Ahead, a pond sparkles under the setting sun. Reeds sprout up around the pond, tan but tinted gold. Trees line the path we’re on, tall and majestic.
The dogs have been off-leash since we stepped through the park fence. Zoey runs ahead toward the water. Mr. Brown, slower, pads along just in front of Brock and me as though he’s paving our way.
This feels romantic.
But it shouldn’t.
I’m getting paid right now. The man at my side promised to add a ‘couple thousand bucks’ to my paycheck for hanging out with these dogs.
Despite the fact that my head knows this is not a date, my heart feels like one of the sparkly-heart emojis: it is bursting with love.
It’s just love for the golden sunlight, I tell myself. Love for these two Golden Retrievers. Love for the fresh air, and the foliage…
Not love for Brock.
Zoey runs back to us, a tennis ball in her mouth. She offers it to Brock, and he stops walking to take it gently from her mouth.
He lobs it into the air toward the pond ahead. I track it with my eyes so I’ll be able to help Zoey find it if it lands in the reeds.
“Oh… no,” I whisper when I spot a familiar figure up ahead.
“What, was that too far?” Brock asks.
“It was a good throw. The bad part is that guy up there.”
Brock follows my gaze. “Guy in the yellow jacket?”
“He’s the one.”
I never liked that reflective yellow jacket, but Charles wore it all the time back when we were dating. His mother gave it to him when he started riding his bike to work.
The reflective strips glare as Charles strides toward us. “Gwen? Is that really you?” he calls with a big, forced smile. “Where have you been hiding?”
Yikes.
This not-really-a-date outing with my boss, who just called me charming, is difficult enough to navigate. Add in a sort-of-ex that I ghosted, and the situation has become downright awkward.
“Hey… Charles. How have you been?”
