I take a deep breath and shove my phone in my purse. “Yeah, you can say that.”
She nods. “Must be in the air.”
I quirk a brow.
Grace’s head tilts in the direction of Tomás’ office. “Mr. Ramos has been very,” she pauses for a moment, settling on, “Flusteredthis morning.”
My gaze flashes to his closed office door. “He’s here?”
Grace picks up on the surprise in my voice, and for some reason it causes her to smile. “Yes, Mr. Ramos, excuse me, Tomás,” she singsongs his name. “I forgot he told me I don’t need to be so formal. But that’s beside the point, yes, he’s in today.” She lowers her voice and leans forward as if she’s about to spill some gossip. I haven’t been here long enough to be invested in any potential gossip, but if tea is what she’s serving, who am I to refuse it? “You seem surprised.”
“That he’s in the office? Yeah. He’s barely been here since…”
“You started working here.” There’s that smile again. I don’t know what she’s trying to get at, but I keep my poker face on until she changes topic. “Anyway, he’s here today and in a mood already, so maybe seeing you will cheer him up.” She winks.
“Thanks for warning me,” I tell Grace, bracing myself as I head to Tomás’ – orour– office.
The door barely opens when my ears are met with his naturally deep vibrato sounding a bit edgier than usual. “Good morning,” he huffs, his attention on the sea of papers spread out on the small desk across from his.
“Is it?” I joke, closing the door. “It looks like a crime scene in here.”
He glances up at me, and as our eyes meet, the tautness in his hands and jaw loosen, barely, but enough that I recognized the shift in his demeanor. “It is now.”
A flutter cracks through my chest. Now I know why he hasn’t been coming into the office. Being around each other feels good. Too good. The kind of good that makes working together feel impossible. I’m already sifting through my day’s task list, trying to figure out how I’m going to get everything done with him here.
“Don’t mind me, you can do what you need to do.” I hear what he’s saying but it makes me wonder if he’s being sarcastic since his mess is all over my desk, not his.
“And where would you like me to do that?”
He looks up at me, dumbfounded. “Umm, at your desk.”
“Is that a question or a joke?”
“Neither.” He points tohisdesk. “Your desk is waiting for you.”
It’s too early and I’m too hung over for this shit. “How is that my desk when it’s yours?”
Storming over to what I know to be his desk, he points at the computer. “Yours.” And then the chair. “Yours.” And then the surface. “Also, yours.”
I’ll be damned. This man works quick. All of my belongings I kept at my desk have been transferred to his, even the soy candle I had is there —lit.
“How early did you get here?”
“Two hours ago. I meant to have Grace tell you that you could use my desk and I’d have my stuff transferred to yours, but it slipped my mind. And now that I’m finally?—”
“Here, and not avoiding me,” I interrupt him, not bothering to hide the flirtation laced within my words, but it works, and he looks relaxed again.
“I haven’t been avoiding you.”
“Liar,” I tease.
Just like that he grows stern again. “You have to understand how difficult this is for me.”
“Oh my god with the dramatics. You act like you’re the first person in all of history to accidentally hook up with their sister’s best friend.”
He winces, staring at the door.
“Calm down, the door is closed, no one heard. Although I’m pretty sure Grace thinks there’s something between us, so if she did, she’d probably be clapping.”
