Page 7 of Keeping Denver

"Denver. What a pretty name. I bet your face is just as pretty as your name, Denver."

I blush, feeling my ears heat from his compliment. The guy sounds sweet. He also sounds like a hopeless flirt.

"Tell me, sweetheart, is Mr. Hawk in?"

"May I ask who's calling?"

"You can ask me anything." I hear the smile in his voice. "Tell him Spencer Knight is on the phone."

I recognize his name immediately. Spencer Knight is one of two names on the Post-It Frances gave me.

"Hold one moment, Mr. Knight."

"Sure, thing, sweetheart."

I place Mr. Knight on hold and press Mr. Hawk's extension. He picks up on the first ring and his clipped voice fills my ear. "What?"

I flinch at his tone. "I have a Mr. Knight on the phone for you."

"Put him through," he says before the line goes dead.

Asshole.

A few minutes later, Mr. Hawk steps through his office door and straight up to my desk. When his looming shadow lingers above me, my fingers pause over the keyboard of the computer and I look up. I go to ask him if he needs me to do anything, but before I can speak, he cuts me off.

"What were you and Mr. Knight talking about on the phone?"

My brow scrunches. "Nothing, Mr. Hawk."

"Really? Then tell me, why is he on a first-name basis with you?"

"He asked me my name, Sir." I swallow. "I didn't want to be rude."

Mr. Hawk's nostrils flare. "In the future, Miss Hollis, I would appreciate you didn't flirt with the people who call this office."

Flirt? What is he talking about? "I wasn't…" I go to defend myself only to be dismissed.

Mr. Hawk turns on his heel and heads back to his office. He calls out once more before slamming the door. "I have a friend stopping by for lunch. I want you to order my usual from TARANTINO'S along with an order of Antipasto Salad with Bocconcini and green olives with a side of Vinaigrette dressing."

I grit my teeth at his flippant attitude toward me. Flirting? There is no way I was flirting with Mr. Knight. Did he tell Mr. Hawk I was flirting with him?

Brushing the incident aside, I place a call to TARANTINO'S. Mr. Hawk's usual food orders are another thing Frances wrote down for me. She said he's a creature of habit and rarely asks for anything outside of the list. After placing the order, I immerse myself back in my work. It's the sound of heels clicking on the tiled floor that have me looking up from my computer screen. The woman headed in my direction looks like she walked straight off the runway; tall and willowy, has a perfect olive complexion, and her straight midnight black hair hangs just past her shoulders. I continue to stare. The woman's makeup is flawless. The way she glides across the room on her five-inch heels while wearing a white slouchy sweater paired with black leather pants, a fur coat draped over one arm, and her Louis Vuitton bag clutched in her hand, would make anyone stop in their tracks and take notice.

The woman saunters past me without so much as a glance. As she goes to open Mr. Hawk's office door, I stand from my chair and fly around my desk to stop her. "I'm sorry, but you can't just go in there."

The woman stops with her hand on the doorknob. Slowly she turns and glares down at me. She must be at least 5 feet 11 inches, towering over me as her face morphs into a sneer. I suddenly recognize her as the woman I saw on my computer earlier when I was googling Mr. Hawk.

"You must be new here."

"Yes." I straighten my back.

The door to Mr. Hawk's office opens, and the woman in front of me wastes no time wrapping herself around my boss. For some inexplicable reason, something ugly settles in my gut watching them, and I cast my eyes away.

"Come in, Joslyn," Mr. Hawk addresses the woman whose eyes are still on me. Only this time, her sneer has transformed into a victorious smile. "Thanks, baby." She kisses him on his cheek. Through the whole interaction, Mr. Hawk keeps his focus on me and not the woman in his arms.

"Bring our lunch in as soon as it arrives," Mr. Hawk orders, and I nod, keeping my eyes cast down at my feet. Just keep your head down, Denver. You can't afford to lose this job. Dealing with people like Callan Hawk and Joslyn is a small price to pay at the end of the day. Stay focused on your future—a place to live and food in your stomach every night.

When the food is delivered, I quickly make my way to his office. Knocking, I wait for him to answer. "Come in."