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Leaning in slightly, I ask in a low voice, "Everything alright?"
She recovers quickly, her professional facade back in place. "Yes, just glad to be here," she responds.
I nod in acknowledgment. "If you need any help or have questions, don't hesitate to come find me, Russo."
A hint of a smile plays at the corner of her mouth. "Understood, Ledger."
I let out a low chuckle as I pass by her. Our shoulders brush ever so lightly but it's just enough to send my mind straight to the gutter.
I head to my office quickly before I do or say something stupid but just as I step inside, Greig follows behind me.
"I can't believe you gave her that project. That was supposed to be mine," he says, barely concealing his anger.
I take a seat behind my desk. "Seriously, you've had a month to come up with an idea, and you've got nothing. Quinn's only been here a day, and when I told her she had until tomorrow, do you know what she said?" I pause, letting the impact of my words sink in.
His brows furrow. "What?"
I cross my arms over my chest. "She said, 'Consider it done.' Maybe you should grab your notebook and take some notes, Greig."
He laughs bitterly. "This is how you treat your best friend? I've been here from the start, and she just waltzes in here and you roll out the red carpet. There's no way she should be getting privileges like that I don't care how amazing they claim she is in Cali."
I scoff. "Don't be so dramatic, Greig. Maybe our friendship has been part of the problem. You lean on it when you shouldn't. I need you focused, not slacking off."
I stand, meeting his gaze firmly. "Learn from Quinn. She might have a thing or two to teach you, and give you a new perspective to up your game. This isn't personal, it's business."
He nods slowly, the fight draining from him. "Alright, I get it," he mutters before turning to leave.
I watch him go, knowing I've made the tough but necessary call. I make a mental note to keep an eye on him. I've known him for a long time and the guy can hold a grudge. I just hope it won't cost him his job or our friendship.
5
QUINN
In my hotel's bathroom, I'm second-guessing myself big time as I slip on the little black dress that Weston requested I wear to work. "What the hell am I doing?" I mutter to myself, adjusting the dress. It's professional yet chic, a bit more daring than my usual work attire.
I can't shake off the image of Weston from my mind. He's infuriatingly handsome, and it's maddening how he looked at me. It was a bold move but I had to set boundaries with him yesterday because it looked like he was ready to jump over the line, and I hate admitting that part of me was right there with him.
Truthfully, I don't want to be labeled as the girl who sleeps with her boss. That'd be terrible if it got back to my home office.
I do my makeup next, adding a touch of foundation to even out my skin. I add a flick of mascara to enhance my eyes, and a bold stroke of red lipstick making me feel more in control. It's a small rebellion against Weston's unsettling effect on me.
Now for my hair. He asked for it down, so I’m curling it into loose waves. It feels weird doing this just because he said so. It's like I'm playing into some sort of game he’s got going on.
I slip into my black heels and check myself out in the mirror, I look put together on the outside. But inside, my mind is racing. I'm here for a job, to make a mark professionally. I can't afford distractions, especially not the kind Weston Ledger might bring. Taking a deep breath, I grab my purse and head out the door, determined to keep my focus where it needs to be.
As I drive to the office I mentally switch gears to the charity project.
Weston didn't give me much time but luckily, I'm good at being put on the spot. It's like Ideas float in the back of my mind constantly which is both a blessing and a curse. I'm always ready with an idea but I also spend too much time stuck in my head.
When I get to the office, I make a beeline for the break room to prepare coffee for both Weston and myself. There's talk around here that he can be tough to deal with if he hasn't had his coffee so I'm making sure it's hot and ready.
As I'm grabbing the creamer, I hear Marissa pop into the break room. "Morning, Quinn! You look stunning, love that dress."
I offer a shy smile, appreciating her compliment but keeping quiet about the fact that it's Weston's request. "Thanks."
Marissa leans against the counter, pouring herself some coffee. "So, how's California compared to here?"
I smile as I add the sugar. "California's great – sunny, laid-back. It's a whole different vibe from here."
