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Infallible plan.
After gathering the rest of my stuff, I took another glance in the mirror, smoothed out my hair, and wiped a little smudge of mascara from under my eye.
Who am I kidding? Flying under the radar my ass.
I was fooling myself. I was trying harder than normal, putting way more effort into my appearance than I usually did.
Deep down I wanted Liam to find me appealing. I wanted him to look at me with that same fire I saw blazing in his eyes just before he whispered those words that did very, very wrong things to me — “Good fucking girl.”
I mentally slapped myself. That was supposed to be degrading and cliché and diminishing. Why on Earth was it so damn alluring when he said it? I couldn’t help but want to hear him say it to me again. But it was wrong. And it couldn’t happen. I knew this. Why did I need to chant it over and over to try and make it stick? And why did I want him to like me so badly?
Questions, questions, and more questions. I was a mess.
I had spent the whole weekend either daydreaming about him or convincing myself how bad this situation was. I had no idea what to expect from Liam, but my mind was set on telling him that what happened last week was a weak moment, a big mistake that would not be happening again. Yet my body screamed “hell no” to all of the above.
Besides, why did I even think he would want it to happen again?
I was utterly confused. My body pulled me in one direction while my brain was set on the other. The right one, might I add.
I needed to set the record straight and tell him I was sorry if I made him think anything different, but I was emotionally – and physically – unavailable right now. Getting involved with someone like him could only bring me heartbreak and misery.
He didn’t strike me as the relationship kind of guy and I surely wasn’t made for flings. I was convinced that he could just as easily make me float on clouds as well as break me into pieces. I couldn’t afford that. I was just now starting to mend again.
My head needed to be in the game, buried in work. That was the only way I could succeed and make a life for myself here. Far away from Jacksonville.
I shivered at the thought of going back. And this thing with my boss was a recipe for exactly that. A disaster in the making.
Problem was, what if he told me he wanted more of that elevator action? Would I be strong enough to say no? Did I even want to say no?
God! I’m so not ready to see Liam today.
My boss! He was my boss. My very handsome, unobtainable, far from my reach, out of my league, most-probably-a-play-boy, boss.
I sang those words all the way to AD like a mantra, reminding myself exactly who he was.
With a simple kiss, Liam had erased the infuriating first impression I had of him. I needed that back. Going back to hating him could bring me the power my will suddenly lacked.
I focused on our pre-elevator exchange.
‘Don’t worry, Sweetcheeks. At least now we all smell the coffee before the country girl on your clothes.’ He was definitely a dick. Smallville my ass.
After forty-five minutes on the subway, replaying all the snarky remarks Liam threw my way, I had finally gotten some sense into my head. By the time I got to AD, I was fully bullet-proof. I mean, Liam proof.
Mrs. Parker was kind enough to show me around, introducing me to some of my new co-workers. AD was a huge enterprise, and there was absolutely no way I could keep up with all the names and roles she was throwing at me on a good day. Nevermind having my mind constantly diverting to someplace else. I was lost by the time she introduced me to the second Steven, after Rebecca and the other what’s-her-name.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we got to my desk. It sat in the huge bullpen, right in front of what Mrs. Parker told me to be Liam’s office.
I noticed that sitting next to my keyboard was a brand new phone with a note on it.
“To replace your broken one.” My heart fluttered as I took in the messy handwriting. There was no signature, yet I had no doubt who it was from.
It was a thoughtful gesture that affected me more than I’d like to admit. I couldn’t have afforded anything like it, but its true value was in the thought behind it.
It told me Liam had been thinking about our fated encounter, and knowing I was in his thoughts messed with my resolve all over again.
Damn him.
I should probably thank him. No. I should probably give it back.
