“Did you get your watch?” I asked instead, my voice tight.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Found it on your kitchen counter.” Fitz was still grinning as something devious sparked in his eyes. Something I didn’t like. “Had a nice chat with Cate while I was there. She’s funny. Bit clumsy—nearly tripped over a skateboard on her way in—but funny.”
“She tripped?” Nathan asked.
“Almost. I caught her arm.” Fitz mimed the gesture, and I watched his hand move through the air as if it were happening in slow motion. “She laughed it off, made some joke about gravity having a personal vendetta against her.”
That sounded exactly like something Cate would say.
And the thought of Fitz’s hand on her arm, steadying her, made me want to perform surgery without anesthesia.
On Fitz.
With a rusty spoon.
“Sounds like you two hit it off,” Hayden observed, watching me with an expression that was far too perceptive for eight-thirty on a Monday morning.
“Classic vestibular response to unexpected social interaction,” Julien observed. “The startle reflex combined with—”
“Nobody asked for a neurological breakdown,” I said.
“I’m just saying, clumsiness in the presence of attractive individuals is a documented phenomenon. Increased cortisol, decreased motor control—”
“Oh my God,” Quinton said, laughing. “Gabriel’s gonna have a stroke. Look at his face.”
“I’m not going to have a stroke.”
“Your blood pressure would suggest otherwise,” Julien said mildly.
“We had a pleasant conversation,” Fitz continued as if his life wasn’t in danger. “I might have mentioned grabbing coffee sometime.”
The file in my hands crumpled further.
“You asked out Gabriel’s nanny?” Nathan’s eyebrows shot up. “Bold move.”
“I didn’t ask her out. I suggested coffee. There’s a difference.” Fitz looked directly at me, his grin taking on a challenging edge. “Unless there’s some reason I shouldn’t?”
The room’s attention swiveled to me like a spotlight.
This was a test. Fitz knew it. Hayden and Nathan knew it. Julien was watching with clinical interest. Quinton looked likehe was about to take bets. Hell, probably Winnie out at the front desk knew it, and she wasn’t even in the room.
If I objected, I’d reveal that I had opinions about who Cate spent time with. Opinions that had no business existing, given that she was my employee, and I was her employer, and the entire situation was already complicated enough without adding my colleagues into the mix.
If I didn’t object, Fitz would take it as permission to pursue her.
The thought of Fitz pursuing Cate—taking her to coffee, making her laugh, touching her arm when she stumbled, seeing that flustered, wide-eyed expression up close—made me feel like I was being slowly crushed under a hydraulic press.
“Do whatever you want,” I said, my voice carefully controlled. “Just don’t do it on my doorstep. Or during work hours. Or in any way that interferes with her ability to care for my daughter.”
“So... evenings and weekends are fair game?” Fitz’s grin was absolutely shit-eating now.
I wanted to murder him.
Slowly.
With witnesses.
“If she’s interested,” I said through gritted teeth, “that’s her decision.”
