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I’m assuming he means that they’re like, friends with benefits or something. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” David drawls, guiding me out of the elevator and through the foyer to where the town car is waiting. The driver has the door open for us, and David slides in, moving across the buttery leather seat as I duck inside.
David is silent back to his condo, but he taps his fingers rapidly against his thigh the whole way. As the car pulls up in front of his building, he turns to me with a smirk.
“So, did you get some insight into any facets of my personality?”
He almost sounds like he’s mocking the idea, but I grin. “Actually, it was very eye opening.”
David nods, though he does eye me carefully on the elevator up to his condo.
“Did you want to join me for a nightcap?” he asks once we’re inside and he’s helped me out of my trench coat. I’m so incredibly tempted to say yes. But I’ve already had a bit to drink tonight, and it’s getting late, so it really isn’t a good idea. At all.
“We’re back in the office tomorrow, aren’t we?”
He nods, still waiting for my answer to his nightcap question. I’ll sleep through my alarm if I drink any more. “I’m going to go to bed. It’s getting late. Thank you for taking me there tonight. I really enjoyed myself.”
David watches me head to my bedroom with his inscrutable eyes, and I fight the urge to shiver at the feeling of his eyes on me until I round the corner, out of his line of sight.
Chapter Nine
Anica
I’ve barely seen David at work this week. I’ve spent each day in a different department, learning the ins and outs of Haven Property’s business models, both here and abroad. I didn’t realize how extensive it was. I know now ridiculous amounts about what it takes to build and operate a hotel in the Middle East, or running a construction site in Eastern Europe, or a shopping mall in Australia.
I know that David, Mr. Westerhaven, and the board have the final say over what is built or operated where, but it’s the staff that source potential projects. In fact, they have staff scattered all over the world whose entire job is to source potential projects. David also gets to fly all over the world to meet with people and break ground and all that kind of thing. And here I was thinking he was a glorified realtor. My mistake.
My favorite so far has been with the marketing department. Of course. The moment I walked into their domain, it was like I was coming home. Colors and mockup designs dominate the space. There are also cool mini models of some of the newer developments. Mr. Westerhaven likes to have these models made of every property, and they’re displayed or stored somewhere.
Gordon Priestly, the head of marketing, explained to me they liked to have the models here when they were organizing a marketing campaign, since it helped toseethe product. Plus, they could photograph the models from any angle for the mockups. This means that they don’t waste money on dronesand aerial shots of the actual buildings until they know exactly what shots they want. Smart.
I’ve even made a friend, of sorts. Kari Mellor is Gordon Priestley’s secretary, so she knows all the good gossip. We’ve taken to having our lunches together. Kari knows all the good food carts, and has been showing me around this area of New York on my lunch breaks. Today, we’re having hot dogs, which feels very cliché tourist in New York, but Kari assures me that this guy’s hot dogs are the best in the city. So, I have to give them a chance.
“What’s Mr. Brooks Westerhaven’s home like?” Kari asks, wide-eyed, as we sit on the edge of a planter box and eat our lunch. I grin at her. She’s asked me a variation of this question every day this week. I’ve been deliberately vague, because I don’t think that David would want people knowing things about his home. Like where it is or what it looks like.
“It’s pretty incredible. Airy and light filled. Not at all how I imagined people lived in New York.”
Kari snorts into her bun. “Trust me, we don’talllive like that.”
I offer her a vague smile, but I will not be drawn intothatconversation. I know people bitch about their bosses all the time, but I’m living in David’s home, it would seem incredibly disrespectful and dishonest. But she doesn’t continue that topic, switching instead to some conflict that Christine had with another of the secretaries.
Kari rolls her eyes at me. “I swear, ever since she started working as Mr. Brooks Westerhaven’s secretary, she’s become sohigh and mighty. She used to come to our monthly drinks, with the rest of the secretaries, but she doesn’t anymore.”
I perk up at that knowledge. I guess I’m not the only one who gets the silent treatment from Christine. I thought that I had irritated her that first day, but nope, apparently that’s who she is. I wonder why Christine wouldn’t continue to socialize with the other secretaries. Surely it would be beneficial for her to do so. Then she would know the office gossip and all that. I would have thought that as the CEO’s eyes and ears on the ground, she would want to listen to who is fighting with who and all that kind of thing. It would be a good way for David to know what is going on in his own company.
Once we’re back in the office, Kari bids me farewell as she heads back to her desk. I make my way through to my small office, where there is a note on my desk. Christine was looking for me. Somehow, I doubt that she came all the way down and left me a note. Maybe she called down, and when I didn’t answer, called around until someone came and left the note.
I make my way up to Christine’s desk. When I approach, her face is a blank mask and her eyes flicker over my work attire. She nods to David’s office door. “Mr. Brooks Westerhaven was looking for you. You really need to make yourself more available.”
Okay. I was having lunch. It’s allowed in my contract and everything. With her remonstration ringing in my ears, I cross to the door, tapping on it, and letting myself in when he calls out.
David is sitting at his desk, reading through a document and occasionally making notes. There is soft jazz music piping from somewhere and he glances up when I walk in and nods to thechairs across his desk. Sinking into one of them, I fold my hands into my lap, wondering what this is about. This is the first time I’ve been summoned to David’s office.
Also, it’s weird that he got Christine to chase me down when he could have emailed me. Maybe I should give him my phone number. I swallow the blush creeping up my cheeks at the thought. Get it together, Ani! You’re not giving him your number likethat. Just so he can get a hold of you.
We sit in silence for a long while until David saves his document and looks up at me. “I suppose you could say that this is my favorite style of music.”
Starting, I tip my head to the side and listen. “Jazz?”
