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Mr. Carson held up a hand. “It’s fine.” He backed into his office and nearly shut the door, but then peeked his head back out. “Thai?”
“There’s some in there for you too.” Jack stood. “Since I know you probably haven’t eaten more than a power bar.”
Mr. Carson opened the door, and dipped his hands into his pockets. He filled the doorway. How? That freaking doorway was huge. The quick flash of our meeting yesterday had me clutching my magic mouse a little tighter. He’d been completely overwhelming. The residual reaction required at least ten Hail Marys and a dip in the ocean.
Thank you, wool sweater and padded bra.
He quirked his eyebrow. “They’re sufficient for energy.”
Jack hung his head. “Sufficient for energy is what you say about food for a mission, not for an office job.” He handed him the bag. “Here. Go show her the seventh floor and feed her.”
“No, it’s okay. I can just eat at my desk. Really.”
Mr. Carson took the bag and went back into his office. The hydraulic hiss of his door closing took the rest of my will. I dropped into my chair. So, I didn’t need food anyway.
I covered my grumbling belly. Now that I’d smelled the food, I wanted it.
The door opened again, and he returned with his suit jacket on. It was the same dark gray suit. At least it looked like it. Impeccably cut, but still the same suit. When he shot his cuffs and I saw that little flash of ink again, I swallowed a groan.
Enemy.
Owns my grandmother’s house.
My house.
Should be my house.
“Ms. Copeland.”
I stood. His voice was far too low, and the way he said my name was an eight on the sin scale.
Wow. Insane much?
He didn’t wait for me, simply kept moving toward the stairs. Okay, then. I didn’t want to be in an elevator with Mr. Carson anyway. I followed him down the stairs, and he stopped at the landing before the next flight. “Was your packet acceptable?”
I took the last stair and gripped the railing tighter. I hadn’t had time to look. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
He frowned down at me. “You didn’t check?”
That was weird. I should have checked. But I wasn’t truly here for the job. I was just killing time—though I should probably take advantage of the benefits while I had them. A few months’ worth of birth control at the very least.
Every dollar counted at the moment.
Yeah, I really needed to check that packet. What if I made enough here to try and afford the mortgage?
And the sky would turn pink tomorrow. Like I could afford the payments on a house by the water in Marblehead.
How long had I stood there not talking?
“I honestly haven’t had time.” I lifted my chin. “You’ve kept me a little busy for a first day.”
“I was going easy on you.”
Somehow I schooled my features not to goggle. “Bring it.”
His eyebrow lifted. “Are you sure?”
“I’m your assistant, aren’t I?”
