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"You're not going to avoid me completely for the rest of the week."
"I'm going to do exactly that," I reply. "I need to keep my distance. No more sneaking in kisses and gropes to influence my decision."
"India," he says, exasperated. "We have to work together this week. We need to talk."
"We'll talk about business. If you need to ask about something, just arrange a meeting."
He lets go of my arm and I leave the stockroom, noting the barely-suppressed grin on Liz's face as I pass her.
"What are you smiling about?" I ask, stopping directly in front of her.
"Nothing," she says. "You two are so cute."
"What?" I lean forward. "What do you mean by that?"
"You know," she says, a coy smile on her face. "Sneaking into the stockroom like that for – well, whatever."
"Have you been talking to Grant?"
"No," she says and f
rowns. "It's just that we all know you two are in love."
"We aren't in love," I say, more forcefully than I intend. "We're partners. Business partners. Nothing else."
Liz shrugs. "Sorry. We all thought…"
"You all thought wrong."
I turn on my heel and march to my office. When I get to my door, I turn and see Jon come out of the stock room with a couple of packs of paper in his arms. He's pretending that he needed some photocopier paper and that's why he went into the stock room.
Yeah, right.
It's not like Jon loads paper in the photocopier on a regular basis.
"I can do that," Liz says and steps around her desk, taking the paper out of Jon's arms.
"Thanks," Jon says and comes down the hallway. He shrugs helplessly and smiles at me.
I enter my office and close the door behind me. Once alone, I lean against it and close my eyes.
One stupid kiss and look where we are now – the entire office thinks we're in love and hiding in the stockroom so we can get it on.
I sit behind my desk, open my laptop, and try to finish work on my new project.
Plus, I have to get some work done before I have my fake meeting with a few staff tomorrow morning about something I could have put off until after the trip. I just didn't want to spend the entire day with Jon, waiting at the airport, on the plane together, on whatever layover we might have, then waiting for luggage, taking a taxi together to the hotel, and then dinner at the hotel or whatever.
Later that afternoon, Jon pops his head in my office.
"I'm going home early. I guess I'll see you Thursday morning before the meeting. Should we meet for coffee? Go over the presentation?"
"Sounds good," I reply without looking at him. "I'll text you once I arrive."
"Okay."
I nod and glance at him, feeling like I have to make eye contact at least once before he leaves. He has this expression in his eyes that is somewhere between amused and angry.
I hear him sigh heavily like he's resigned to my efforts to put a distance between us.
