“Uh . . .” he started talking tentatively. “Do you want me to—”
“NO!” she quickly cut him off. “No. I don’t want you to . . . eeew, gross. How could you even think I would want that?”
“Uh . . . sorry, I was just—”
“I want to go home.” She cut him off and suddenly her attitude changed completely again as she sat back in her seat and buckled her belt.
Clearly, he’d said the wrong thing. Once again. But he was somewhat relieved. He didn’t really want to go bra shopping with her either. Obviously, the feeling was very mutual. He turned the engine on and drove off. They didn’t say another word to each other on the drive home, and the second they got home, she ran into the bedroom and closed the door.
He sighed. What the hell was he meant to do now? There were no rule books or guides for raising a teenage girl, and he desperately needed one. He pulled his phone out, opened Google and started typing.
“Types of bras.” The screen filled with pictures of bras and he started reading. Training bra, sports bra, balcony bra, push-up, plunge, T-shirt bra, bra-fucking-lette, soft cup, underwire, minimizer, triangle?
“What the hell?” he mumbled loudly as he scrolled through the pictures. No wonder she didn’t know what to get. He pocketed his phone. He needed to get back to the office.
“Goodbye, Emmy. I’ll see you later,” he called up. He waited for a response, but didn’t get one.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
Poppy
He was still gone, forty minutes later. I looked at his office and then looked back at the elevator. I tapped my foot nervously. It was now or never. I reached into my handbag and pulled the sachet of plant food out. I’d been carrying it around for days now, hoping I could get a moment alone with that poorChlorophytum comosum. But until now, it hadn’t happened.
I stood up slowly and looked back at the elevator. If he caught me in his office he’d probably lose his shit! But I didn’t know when I was going to get another chance like this. I picked the glass of water up from my desk and looked around to make sure no one was watching. And then I made a quick run for it. But just as I was about to disappear into his office, Juniper looked up. Her eyes widened and I quickly put my finger to my lips and gave a “shhhhh.” I bolted inside and closed the door behind me. Not that it helped, since the whole thing was glass. I took a deep breath. The office smelt like him. Woody, citrusy, spicy and sexy as hell . . . How could a man who smelt so delicious strike such fear into my heart? It didn’t seem right.
But I couldn’t get distracted now, I had a job to do. I walked over to the windowsill and picked up the poorChlorophytum comosum. Its leaves were wilted and covered in dust. I slowly tipped half the glass of water onto the dry, cracked soil and watched as the soil soaked it up like a thirsty sponge. I opened the sachet of plant food and sprinkled the little white pellets onto the soil and then poured the rest of the water over them.
I put the plant back, moving it out of the full sun. I looked around for something to wipe the dust off the leaves, and when I couldn’t see anything I looked over at the elevator once more and then reached into his top drawer, hoping to find a tissue. But I didn’t. In fact, it was totally empty, except for one thing. A silver photo frame, face down. Shit!I knew I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldnotbe doing this, but it wassoootempting. Like a cupcake on day three of your diet. Don’t do it, Poppy. Do not . . .but I did. Of course I did. Slowly, nervously, I turned the photo over and gasped when I saw it.
It was him. Only it wasn’t him at all. It was some cool, laid-back, happy-looking version of him. Him with a messy mop of hair, him with black stubble across his jaw, a T-shirt on, a beer in his hand and his other arm draped around the shoulders of a stunning woman with eyes just like his. I stared at the photo, trying to reconcilethisman—with the huge smile and happy disposition—with the man I knew and worked for. There was such a difference between the two people that I wondered if they were even the same man. And if they were, what had happened to make him so different now? I heard a “ting” and dropped the frame back into the drawer. I looked up and saw the tip of a shoe coming out of the elevator, and I knew. It was him.
“Shit!” I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled under his desk as quickly as possible.
“Where the hell is Miss Granger?” I heard him bark before he pushed his office door open.
My heart raced in my chest and I was mentally cursing myself for doing this. I should have just left the plant to die and then I wouldn’t find myself sitting under his desk. I closed my eyes tightly as he pulled the chair out and sat down. He adjusted his seat, sliding it closer to the desk. I looked up, his knees were coming towards my face, closer . . . closer . . . closer. And then they parted and—OMG—he stopped, his crotch mere centimeters from my nose.
I watched in horror as he reached down and adjusted the guys, before giving his tight pants a little pull . . .Dear Lord, how much space did the man need in there?I tried not to look, but it was all I could see. It was so in my face, literally.
“Where the hell is she?” he muttered to himself and then barked loudly. “Miss Paul?”
I heard the nervous scuttle of feet and then a tentative, “Yes, Mr. Stark?” It was Juniper. Shit!
“Have you seen my assistant?” he asked in that voice that I knew was intimidating the hell out of her.
“Mmm-mmm, no!” she said. Thank God.
There was a pause. “Really?” he asked. “Then why does it look like you’re lying?”
I heard a nervous giggle. “Noooo,” she said. It was not convincing.
“You know how I feel about honest employees I can rely on,” he said. It sounded like a threat.
There was another pause and then, “She’s in your office!” She almost yelled that part and I heard her rush away.
I held my head in my hands. How was I going to wriggle my way out of this? I looked around. Perhaps I could crawl to the other side of the desk, which would mean some maneuvering over the wooden divider.
“What the hell?” I heard him say as I watched his chair swivel around.
