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"Your father loves you. He isn't going to be pissed off at you for the rest of your life."
"Carly, you have no idea how hard these past couple of months have been between us. He looks at me through disappointed eyes. He's finally speaking to me again the way he used to. If he were to find out, he would be livid all over again."
"Exactly how much time have you been spending at the office?" Carly asked.
"Almost every night of the week until eight or nine. There is a lot of planning to do for this event. I want to do a good job and make sure I don't mess up anything or miss something."
"I'm sure there is. Are you there working alone or are you there with him?"
"Spencer works all the time. Some nights he's there long after I leave, others he leaves when I do."
"I see, and over the last few weeks, how many times has he tried something?"
I rolled my eyes. "Only this once."
"I don't believe it. There has been no touching, no trying to make a pass at you, nothing."
I thought back to a few times I'd dodged him. An innocent touch on the arm, a lingering look, or a hand resting on my lower back as I walked through a door. That had been all, and I'd evaded them all, except for Friday night. It had been a moment of weakness on my part. I'd spent the better part of my day in my own head wishing that things were back to normal. I'd wanted him to pin me against the wall like he'd done before, to kiss me until I was utterly breathless, panting and begging for him to touch me more. Only when he had taken that step, I got scared. Scared at how I felt as his lips danced over mine. I'd run out of his office like a scared little girl, instead of allowing myself to succumb to those feelings.
"No, there has been nothing. He promised me he would be professional," I lied.
"I'm sorry, Ainsley, but I don't believe you," Carly said matter of fact.
I was about to roll my eyes when I looked up to see Spencer standing in front of me, a dozen red roses in his hand with a balloon that said “I'm sorry” floating in the air.
"Are you there?" Carly blurted into my ear, pulling me away from the man standing in front of me.
"Yes, sorry. Look, I have to run. It’s time to get back to the office. I have a meeting with the caterer in twenty minutes, and I need to set up the board room."
"Okay, but you better call me later on."
"I will."
I hung up the phone and looked at Spencer who held the flowers out for me to take. I reached out, gripping the bouquet, and brought them to my nose.
"In case you’re wondering, they are because of Friday night. I'm sorry. I crossed a line. I hope you'll forgive me."
Spencer
The second snowstorm of the season raged outside, and I sat by the fire in my living room going over all the details for the event that Ainsley had put together. I looked over the spreadsheets, my mind running back to earlier today when she'd come into my office happy as ever that she'd struck a better deal with the hotel than she had originally. She was so happy and proud of herself, and I'd done only what I would naturally do: I hugged her and leaned in for a kiss. Only instead of expecting her to allow me to, she shoved me away and left my office in a huff. I had blown my apology to her in under two hours.
I shook my head, bringing me back to the present, and began looking over the invitation list. Some names were highlighted in green, others red, some yellow and orange. I had no idea what all that meant, even though Ainsley had gone over it with me three times today. I ran my hand over my face and picked up my phone and dialed Ainsley’s number. After four rings, I knew she wasn't going to answer, so I went to old faithful in case she was with her father.
ROMANTICALPHA42:Are you busy?
Instantly, the three little dots danced on my screen.
BABYGIRL89:Perhaps. Why do you think I didn't answer my phone.
I smiled and quickly typed out another message.
ROMANTICALPHA42:Would you be able to pop by. I'm having issues with this spreadsheet for the invites.
BABYGIRL89:What kind of issues?
ROMANTICALPHA42:Guess you could say I'm just lost without you.
I knew there was a double meaning to that last text, and I'd hoped she'd picked up on it, but she didn't respond.
