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I rolled my eyes. Geesh, thanks, big brother. Make it sound as if I was the most boring person alive and no one would ever be interested in the likes of me. Feeling the love.
“I, uh…” Ezra paused briefly. I could practically hear his brain fart itself blank as he came up with no plausible lie for his curiosity in which to question Brick with. Peeking back around the corner of the filing cabinet, I peered up at his back. He looked so much like the distant, unaffected Nash again, confident CEO who didn’t consort with the little people. It was hard to equate him with the Maleficent who’d kissed me in the dark only days ago.
“I was… I was going to send out thank you cards to people who’d attended the, uh, the Halloween party. And I…” He laughed stiffly. “Well, I’d forgotten Kaity… Kaitlynn’s last name.”
“You forgot…” Brick trailed off to glance toward the wall where a large sign said JUDGE Fashions Industry. He turned back to Ezra. “Yeah. You are so full of shit right now.”
Ezra choked out his surprise. “Excuse me?”
Brick grinned and slid his hands into his pockets as he leaned against his desk. “If you forgot Kaitlynn’s last name, then you never knew it. In fact, I bet you don’t know her at all. You just came in here, fishing for information about my—”
I hissed out my fear that he’d say sister, which effectively shut him up and caused him to cut me a glance so I could slash my hand across my throat, demanding he keep himself quiet. But… Yeah, it also alerted Ezra to me. He once again turned my way, and I once more dove out of a sight, breathing a little harder this time.
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“Your what?” Ezra asked, pressing Brick to continue.
Brick sniffed out an amused sound. “I have a feeling I’m not supposed to tell you anything else.”
“But—”
The ringing of a phone cut Ezra off.
“Oh, look,” Brick said way too loudly. “My phone. It’s ringing. I should answer that.” He hurried from his office, even as he answered the cell, talking to whomever had called, which effectively left Ezra alone in the office with me.
Letting out an annoyed groan, Ezra fell into an empty chair. When he scrubbed his hands over his face as if exhausted and frustrated—maybe even a little sad—my conscience grew guilty for hiding from him.
But it would be so disastrous to see him again. If Lana knew what we’d done—
“Okay, I can’t handle not knowing,” he announced before he pushed his feet against the floor to roll the chair backward until it bumped into the wall… Right beside me. We were barely a foot apart. All he had to do was shift his attention to the left and—
He looked left, right into my eyes. “How do you spell Kaity?”
For a moment, I could only gape, too shocked to answer. How long had he known I was there?
Oh, who was I kidding? He’d probably known the entire time.
Blushing hard, I discreetly cleared my throat and said, “K-A-I-T-Y.”
“Ah.” He nodded with a professional kind of courtesy. “An option I hadn’t considered.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. I remained cowered beside him, worried how he was going to react to the fact that I’d been purposely avoiding him. Again. Though, honestly, why should he be surprised? Running and hiding had kind of become my M.O. these days.
Sending me a gloomy smile, he said, “Thanks for returning my shoes.” He lifted the high heel he was holding.
I cleared my throat again, because I swear I had inhaled some of the dust back here or something. Then I croaked, “You’re welcome.”
“And the cookies,” he added, his gaze going sensual and private as his perfectly formed lips spread into a smile. “I was flattered you remembered I even wanted any. They were delicious.”
I nodded. “They, uh… Well… I didn’t want you to feel left out.”
He watched me, without answering, and his eyes seemed to undress me. My skin felt licked by the flames of his heated stare. I drew in a breath, growing way too warm in this small, cramped space.
In the hallway, I could hear Brick’s muffled voice on the phone, but I had no clue what he was saying or who he was talking to. Under Ezra’s stare, I didn’t even care.
“So, I’ve been thinking,” Ezra started in a conversational manner. “You know, maybe it wasn’t because we both worked at JFI after all. Maybe, I don’t know. Maybe you ran because I was just that bad of a kisser.”
“What?” My eyes grew wide with alarm, not expecting him to say—or even think—such an outlandish thing. “No! Good gracious, no. That wasn’t it at all.”
