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“Schedule…the construction?” She picked up a folder and thumbed through it. “Eli, I know nothing about—”
“There is an estimate of man-hours and materials in the folder from Zach. If you have questions, call him. His phone number is in there.”
She blinked, her long lashes brushing the lenses of her glasses, her eyes big and innocent. She was so damn sexy his mind muddled.
“Why are you wearing those?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“These?” She pushed the glasses up her nose. “I wear them when I drive. My eyes have been getting tired from staring at a computer day and night. I do have to actually run Sable Concierge in addition to working here doing”—she closed the folder—“construction scheduling, apparently.”
She was challenging him, but he wouldn’t back down. She was the one who wanted to work for him so damn badly.
“You sure you want me to call Zach?” She propped a hand on her hip in challenge.
“Be my guest.” He added a nonchalant shrug that felt forced because it was.
Yes, he’d asked her not to date Zach. And, yes, Eli had done it because he thought—for a few insane moments—that there was something between himself and Isa. After Saturday, it was clear there wasn’t.
She doesn’t want you. Let it go.
When regret filled his chest this time he did his best to ignore it. He didn’t have to look far into his past to find proof that he wasn’t good dating material, and he didn’t have to look anywhere but down for a reminder that he was a challenge. Crystal hadn’t signed up for him, and Isa didn’t want to either.
“My lunch is prepared for the week, so I won’t be needing takeout,” he said, putting an end to his own personal pity party. He knew who he was. Knew what needed to be done. He didn’t need Isa to validate him. “I have a coffeemaker in my office now, so you’re off coffee duty. You have your orders, Sergeant. I suggest you get started.”
He turned and marched to his office, head high, adrenaline spiked. Back in control. Of himself. Of his surroundings.
As long as he ignored that niggling in his gut telling him he was acting like an ass.
***
What on God’s green earth…?
Isa, manila folder in hand, stood scowling in the direction Eli had vanished, shaking her head at the interaction. She knew absolutely nothing about the construction business, though Eli had given her enough information and forms to ensure she wouldn’t be speaking to him all day.
Coffeemaker in his office. Pfft.
His lunch was prepared. Double pfft.
“Fine,” she said to herself, dropping the folder and tightening her ponytail. She plopped into the seat and tore the glasses off her face. They were from the dollar store. She didn’t need them. She hadn’t fibbed about the eyestrain, but her main purpose in buying the frames was to try and look more like a professional assistant. After their awkward departure Saturday, when she’d tucked her tail between her legs and fled up the stairs, she hadn’t been sure she’d be able to face him Monday morning. First, she’d insulted him by suggesting he couldn’t scale the stairs to her apartment, then she’d delivered the felling blow. She’d left him sitting in the car without thanking him for dinner or for being there for her through the Josh debacle. Without telling him the real reason she no longer wanted him to come up to her apartment.
Cold feet was the reason. Come this morning she’d felt the embarrassment anew but was determined to face him. She had decided to be professional and polite and by the time she delivered him a second cup of coffee, she’d planned on saying something like, “Sorry I freaked out. Care to try again?”
Evidently, grumpy Eli was back and he wasn’t interested in trying again. No…disinterest didn’t seem to be what drove him. More like his feelings were hurt and he had erected a great big wall too tall for her to scale.
Fine.
He wanted things to be this way, and she could accommodate him. If Isa was anything, she was professional. She could learn about the construction business. Google was her best friend.
She sat down, emptied her tote, and fired up her computer. Then she dug in to the files next to her and set her sights on success.
***
Hours later, Isa stretched her arms overhead, blinking her grainy eyes at the time on her computer. Three o’clock! She surveyed the damage around her laptop as if seeing it for the first time. A browning apple core, an empty yogurt cup, and a wrapper for a granola bar had been cast aside amid piles.
Piles. On her normally tidy workstation.
She’d researched and read and organized. She’d fashioned a clunky schedule and worked up a spreadsheet for the budget. The only thing left to do was hand it over to Eli for his approval. She stood, her back giving an unhappy pop! since she’d neglected to get up and move around.
Angling for his office, she reminded herself again that she was a professional. Who probably shouldn’t make out with her boss or think of making out with her boss every time she looked at him.
