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His lips quirk. “I’ll make it a point not to.”
I exhale a breath. “Could you also make it a point to invest in that baggy attire we discussed last night?”
He turns serious. “Take the job, Charlize.”
“You know I’m not good at being patient.”
He doesn’t respond to that, but he doesn’t need to. I see everything he’s thinking in his heated gaze.
He’s right; it’s only three weeks. We can wait that long.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll take it.” I start tapping out a confirmation to my agency, but then stop and look back up at Owen who is watching me intently. “Tell me what that means for us.”
“It means no contact besides seeing each other at work when necessary.”
“We can’t see each other at all?”
“No.”
“Texting? Calling? Anything?”
He looks torn, like he’s trying to redefine his own rules. “I had strong words with Jill on this topic two days ago. I can’t see you in any way while you’re working for the company. It would be detrimental to my working relationship with her.”
I nod slowly. “Okay.” I send the confirmation text. “Does this mean we can’t drink this coffee together now?”
“Don’t you dare move your ass. You don’t start work until eight thirty. You’re mine until then.”
I place my hand on his thigh and lean toward him. “Well, technically I’m yours after then, too, but please give me one last kiss before my three-week ban.”
He gives me what I want, and he gives it to me so well that I’m not sure I should have requested it. This is now what will be on repeat in my head for the next few weeks.
13
Owen
Charlize has swapped theBut Coffee FirstT-shirt for a white blouse that buttons all the way up to her throat. Pleats line the front while the sleeves puff out like balloons. The thing that draws all my attention, though, is the long red ribbon sitting under the collar that she’s tied in a bow. A lot of white material makes up that blouse, but all I’m seeing is the red ribbon that falls fucking beautifully down between her breasts. I don’t think I’ve ever dedicated as much brain space to ribbon in my life.
“Owen,” Jill says sharply from the right of me where I sit at the head of the boardroom table. “The report?”
I drag my gaze from Charlize who’s sitting to the right of Jill and find my ex-wife scrutinizing me. We’re halfway through a meeting with Julian and Wesley, our Head of Commodities. To say the meeting is not going well is a gross understatement.
Jill is barely talking to me after ourNew York Timesinterview yesterday. I’ve no idea why she’s angry with me. I thought the interview went well. The reporter seemed engrossed with the story of how we built North Management to the size it is today. She spent an inordinate amount of time asking how we spend our days, what we attribute our success to, what our vision is, what advice we would give others, and where we see ourselves in ten years. Jill was pleasant to her to begin with, but by the end, she’d grown hostile. She stalked out of the room before the reporter left, leaving me to extricate myself politely when the woman mentioned something about having a drink sometime.
I glance down at the report in front of me. The one I was about to lead a discussion on until I looked up and caught sight of that red ribbon.
“Right,” I say, forcing all thoughts of Charlize’s wardrobe from my head and launching into the discussion.
At Jill’s request, Charlize is sitting in on the meeting to take notes. I usually have Tahlia do this, but for some reason that I’m unaware of, Jill insisted her assistant do it today. She’s never once asked for Marla to take notes, so I find it puzzling that she was insistent on this.
I also find it highly distracting.
In both the best and worst kind of way.
My concentration is not where it needs to be with Charlize so close.
Case in point: red ribbon.
I make it through the meeting at which point Jill speaks with Charlize while Julian pulls me aside to quickly go over some stock news he just heard. By the time I’m finished with him, Charlize has left the room and Jill is waiting to talk with me. The animosity in her eyes doesn’t give me hope that our conversation will be productive.
