Page 28 of Reaching Gavin

Chapter Eleven

After the world’smost adorable couple left the coffee shop, I couldn’t focus. Maybe it was the happiness lingering in the air. It was like being really hungry and smelling something delicious that I couldn’t have. I needed a change of scenery to clear my head.

The conference room at NorthWest Investments was naturally empty on a Friday night, so I seized the opportunity and spread out all of my notes, plugged in my laptop, and got to work. The meeting space had the added benefit of a large white board I could use. I just had to remember to erase it when I was done or run the risk of ruining my surprise presentation. Grabbing a couple of different colored dry-erase markers, I began to make notes on the first element of my soon-to-be winning proposal. I wanted to showcase the history of the Majestic Theatre first, then I needed strong community programming in order to help the residents feel like a part of the process. It would take some careful planning with the development and building departments to make sure everything went off without a hitch timing-wise. Given that this project would probably drag into the fall semester, I was a bit nervous that I might not be around to see it through. Still, when I stood back and surveyed my ideas as part of the big picture, I was pleased. Seeing them like this made all the difference. Usually, I had dozens of scattered notes and computer spreadsheets, but I’d never looked at it as a whole.

“This is going to work,” I whispered to myself as a tremble of excitement raced through me.

“It just might,” Gavin said from behind me.

I startled, whirling around to face the intruder. Gavin was no longer in his business attire—the navy blue suit that he’d worn to the office today. Not that I had been paying attention. Now he was dressed down in a pair of dark washed jeans that hung on his hips and a black V-neck that clung to his torso. No wonder he always wore suits to the office. Dressed down he didn’t look like the CEO of a major real estate investment group, he looked like the kind of guy you saw at a bar and made eye contact with—the kind of guy you hoped bought a drink for you. The kind of guy you might buy a drink for yourself. I realized I was gawking, my hand pressed to my chest, my heart still racing, but no longer because of surprise. Possibly because I’d stopped breathing.

He’d seen my notes. The thought filtered through my oxygen-deprived brain, and I angled my body to try to shield the whiteboard, suddenly self-conscious of the fact that he was looking at all my plans. “You aren’t supposed to see this yet.”

“What does a guy have to do to get a little peek?” he asked. I got the distinct impression he wasn’t talking about my plans for the Majestic Theater.

It was Friday night and I was alone in the office with Gavin North. Gavin North, who didn’t look like my boss, who wasn’t acting like my boss, who I didn’t want to be my boss. I wanted to show him a lot more than my project proposal, but I planted my feet and my resolve. “Once the permits are in and I can officially present, then you’ll get to see—along with everyone else.”

He moved a few steps closer, but he didn’t try to look over my shoulder at the board. “Maybe I can give you a few helpful suggestions.”

I wouldn’t mind if you gave me a few, helpful orgasms, I thought to myself. It took a fair bit of moxie to keep that suggestion in my head and off my tongue. I wasn’t usually the girl that shrunk back and waited for a guy to make the move. Usually, I went after what I wanted. There was no denying that I wanted him. Now, I not only wasn’t going after him, I was actively avoiding him. Or I had been. Avoiding him was a little harder to do with him standing alone with me in a room, especially while he made suggestive comments.

“I’m sure you have something better to do on a Friday night,” I said, hoping he would take the hint. Or someone better to do.

I hoped that he wasn’t on his way to a date. But why else would he still be in his office? Why would he be so dressed down? Why couldn’t I stop wondering about him? My heart plunged like an anchor into my stomach where the sinking feeling continued to grow.

“I do have plans. The better question is: why don’t you?” he asked.

“I do,” I lied unconvincingly. “I have a hot date with a sailor.”

I had absolutely no idea why I had said that. Maybe it was because I was working on the Majestic Theater and my only good photo of it in its heyday was while South Pacific was showing. Maybe it was the proximity of the Puget Sound. Maybe I had officially lost my damn mind.

Now, I didn’t just look pathetic for being at work so late, I also looked crazy.

“A sailor?” Gavin bit down on his lower lip without further comment. The gesture was enough.

“Why is that so strange? We live near the ocean. There are lots of sailors here.” Apparently, I wasn’t only going to toss a lie out there, I was going to go all in on it as well.

“I’m sure there are,” Gavin said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What’s his name?”

“His name? His name is…um,” I searched for any answer I could come up with. Any name. My mind was a total blank. I had forgotten every name in the blessed world except two. I didn’t dare say Gavin, so I said the other, “The Majestic Theater.”

It was a relief to let go of the ridiculous story. Even if it left me feeling a little silly.

“That’s what I thought. Come on. Grab your bag.” Gavin walked past me and picked up the eraser perched on the board’s ledge.

“What are you doing?” I shrieked.

“I assume you don’t want everyone to see your proposal.” He began erasing it without waiting for an answer.

“Including you!” I snatched at the eraser, but he held it out of reach.

“Calm down. I had it memorized the moment I saw the board.” He tapped his forehead with his free hand. “Photographic memory.”

That was hardly playing fair. I let him continue, but I didn’t gather my things. When he finished, he turned around and waited.

“Do you need help packing that up?” he asked.

“What, you aren’t going to do it for me?” I asked dryly.