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"It's going to be a hit," I told her, uncharacteristically optimistic. "If Harvey is a halfway believable actor."
"He'd kill me for telling you this, but he actually used to do theater. Which I only found out because his mother told me at an office party."
"With how much he hates popular culture?"
"I know, right? Well, he only ever did classics, so I guess he feels like that makes it more acceptable."
"If the guy can memorize Shakespeare, I think he can pull off a whiskey commercial."
"That's my thinking. I'm excited. It's been a long time since I've been excited about something work-wise. That sounds awful. I know how lucky I am to work somewhere like this. It's just--"
"Hey, babe," I cut her off. "Work is work. It doesn't matter if it is your dream fucking job, it is still work. You have to eke through it sometimes."
"Exactly," she said, giving me a relieved smile. "That's exactly it. It's nice to hear someone else say that. I feel so ungrateful even thinking it."
"Was this it?"
'Was this what?"
"Your dream job?"
"Yes and no. I always wanted to run a company. And I always wanted to kind of rebrand a company and make it something bigger and better. But the whiskey thing wasn't necessarily what I saw myself doing. I thought it would have more to do with lifestyle stuff or fashion or, I don't know. I guess something that makes people's lives better."
"Some might argue that whiskey does that. It makes my life better. I like a glass to relax after a long week."
"I guess," she agreed, nodding. "It feels good to have some passion about it, though. When I first started, I was pretty gung-ho. I was given free rein to find a headquarters, to get it renovated, to hire who I wanted, to find new suppliers. I was much more interested in making things more environmental and sustainable and all that than my parents were when they were in charge of things fully. But they have tied my hands a lot since we actually got up and running, so I lost a lot of momentum. I still love this place and these people, but the job itself wasn't as exciting anymore. Now it is again. I guess I can thank you for that."
"Happy to help, babe," I told her, watching as her eyes darted away at the endearment. "I haven't seen you much lately. Finally realized you were being an idiot in stalking that fuckhead?"
Yeah, I realized they were the wrong words as they were coming out of my mouth. Which was still too late.
Her eyes slit. Her arms crossed.
I didn't know a fuckuva lot about women, but I knew enough to know that was not a good look.
"I'm the idiot, huh?" she asked, cold smile twisting up, giving her face an icy expression that was still sexy as fuck. "You know what I learned this week?"
"What?" I asked, already knowing I didn't want to know the answer to that question.
"That you suck at your job."
I don't know what I had been expecting, but that wasn't it.
"What do you mean?"
"Really, all it took to thwart you was changing my car out," she told me, the truth slapping me across the face. "I've been sitting right down the street from you, looking right at you, night after night. And you had no idea I was there. But I'm the idiot, huh?" she asked, turning, stalking away from me, disappearing out into the main area where the smell of sauce and cheese was starting to waft into her office from.
"Shit," I sighed, scrubbing my hand down my face.
I sat there for a long moment, letting the two most dominant thoughts settle in, take root.
First, that maybe she was right. I was slipping. I should have seen her. There was no excuse for getting that lax on the job. Not even if I believed in my gut that she was not dangerous.
Second, that King was wrong. That what I had been hoping for was dashed. She hadn't quit stalking. She hadn't moved on.
What all that meant, I wasn't sure.
But even knowing it, there was one last niggling, unavoidable truth.
I still wanted her.
I still wanted to see if there was something building between us.
But to get there, I had a feeling I was going to have to get to the bottom of what was going on with her and Michael. I was going to need to know why she had lost her shit in my arms.
I was going to need to know all the dark and ugly bits of her.
I just had to find a way to convince her to let me explore them with her.
Standing, I moved out into the main room, finding everyone standing or sitting off their desks, talking animatedly to one another as I moved past, disappeared.
