“Like every other woman in the building,” she says without sympathy. “You think you’re special? Please. I guarantee every woman in that office has had at least one inappropriate thought about Grayson Sparkks. I don’t even work there, and I have.”
Something hot and sharp twists under my ribs at that.
I know she’s right. Of course she’s right. I’ve seen the way people look at him in the hallway, the way the receptionist at the front desk goes a little pink when he says good morning.
It’s not like I thought I had a chance or anything. But still.The thought of being just another woman in the building who can’t look at him without thinking about his hands does something small and ugly inside me.
I drain the rest of my drink in one go.
“Another?” Zoe asks, already lifting her hand to flag the waiter.
“Yeah.” I’m going to need it if I’m going to get through the… well, however long I have this damn job.
By the time the second round arrives, the room is softer at the edges. The music blends into a pleasant hum. The world feels slightly less sharp, slightly more manageable. I’m warm and floaty and just tipsy enough that my anxiety has loosened its claws.
Which, for me, always seems to be the point where shit hits the fan.
I’m laughing at something Zoe just said about stealing the salt and pepper shakers so she has a matching set, when something on Zoe’s face shifts. Shegoes still for half a beat, eyes tracking over my shoulder.
“Fuck,” she murmurs. “Do not turn around.”
My stomach drops. “Why?”
“Because your boss just walked in,” she says under her breath, lips barely moving. “And he looks…yeah. That should be illegal.”
My heart slams against my ribs.
I twist in my seat despite her suggestion, just enough that I can see the entrance in the polished reflection of a glass divider.
Grayson stands there with another man, shrugging out of his coat. He’s in a dark button-down that fits him like it was custom — probably because it was — with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, no tie, the top button undone. His hair is slightlymessed up, like he’s run his hand through it one too many times today.
If he was attractive in his office, he’s…morein the wild. Taller. Broader. More real.
The man with him is about his age, maybe a little younger, still somewhere in his forties. Big, athletic, with a familiar face I can’t place. One of his old teammates, maybe. They walk toward our section, and I freeze, heart pounding in my chest, before they slip into a booth two back from ours.
“Turn back around,” Zoe hisses. “You’re going to get caught staring.”
I wrench myself back around, pulse thudding behind my eyes.“He’s not going to see us,” I whisper. “Or at the very least, he won’t recognize me. There’s no way.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You literally just got promoted by this man this morning. He absolutely knows what your face looks like.”
I make a strangled noise and pick up my water like hydration will save me.
Their table is close enough that if I angle my head just so, I can hear their voices over the music. I know damn well I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but I’m tipsy and ravenously curious.
“I’m telling you, man, you did the right thing,” his friend says. “If she’s calling out that much, you can’t rely on her.”
Grayson’s reply is quieter, rough around the edges. “It’s not just calling out,” he says. “She checked out weeks ago. Penny’s been complaining that Ellie’s barely paid attention to her lately,always on her phone or her laptop. That’s not how this is supposed to work, y’know?”
My chest squeezes. Is he talking about his daughter’s mom? A babysitter? “They’re talking about someone who looks after his daughter," I whisper to Zoe.
He goes on, and I find myself leaning minutely back in my seat, the words threading right into my ears. Zoe stares at me, entirely unimpressed.
“I need a nanny that’s actually consistent,” he says.Nanny. That’s who they’re talking about. “Someone who’s actually there when they say they will be. Live-in, if I can find someone willing. With the NFL deal ramping up, I can’t keep leaving the office early because childcare falls apart.”
His friend makes a sympathetic noise. “Yeah, that’s rough.”
“I’m just fucked at the moment. I can’t rely on Halsey to take any of her fair share of the load, and now I’m down someone to take care of Pen outside school hours.” The word lands heavy. “But I couldn’t just keep pretending it was working. Penelope cried for twenty minutes when I told her Ellie wasn’t coming back, and I still don’t know if she was crying about losing the nanny or because she thought that yet another person bailing was her fault.”
