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Today has proven to be one of the longest days of my life.
Jackson took a day of PTO to go tour wedding venues or test caterers with Gen…I think. To be completely honest, I’m not really sure what they’re doing—all I know is he’s not here. Subsequently, I’ve been forced to spend the last five hours with Liam.
“Do you still need that phone call transcript for the Tollies case?” I ask as I stand in the doorway of Liam’s office.
Liam’s eyes rise to meet mine, an exasperated expression painting his face. “Hannah, this is the fifth time you’ve come in here to ask me a question in the last hour. You could just Teams me, but if you insist on coming in here, just work in here. Jackson’s desk is empty.”
He looks back down at the document in front of him, rubbing his brow in what appears to be exhaustion. He’s been rather tight-lipped all day, only talking to me when absolutely necessary. If it were any other person, I would be sitting here questioning what I did and why they didn’t want to talk to me. However, I know Liam well enough to know that he prettymuch never wants to talk to me. So questioning that isn’t even worth the brain cells I use thinking about it.
I turn on my heels as I make my way back to my desk to grab my laptop. When I return to his office, Liam is just as entranced with his task as before, except this time I notice he’s loosened his tie. The once perfectly tied skinny tie is now lying with extra slack, a lasso draped around his neck loosely. His hair is mildly disheveled, but not enough to cause concern. Just the result of him running his fingers through it one too many times.
“So, do you need it?” I ask.
“Need what?” He doesn’t look up at me right away, but when I don’t respond immediately, he pins me with a glare.
“The Tollies transcript,” I reiterate, my brows raising in irritation.
His gaze lingers for a moment before he clears his throat, looking back down at the document in front of him. “No, that case has come to an agreement, so it won’t be going to trial anymore.”
My face flushes as a noticeable warmth spreads to my ears. “Why didn’t you tell me that? I spent over an hour dictating that recording!”
The timid expression he was sporting before is nowhere to be found as his eyes meet mine again, a cold determination in his gaze. “Well, as an assistant at Baker & Park, you don’t exactly need to be in the know about our cases.” His attention shifts back to the document as if he isn’t actively choosing his words to hurt me. “You are a worker bee; worker bees do as they’re told. Anything outside of that is vastly above your pay grade, princess.”
I’m fuming, but I’ve done this song and dance long enoughto know that he is more than likely looking for a reaction—a reaction that I won’t be giving him.
“Of course, my mistake…Mr. Park.” My attempt at professionalism feels slimy as it rolls off my tongue. I’m sure we’re both aware of just how disingenuous it is. The anger bubbling up in my stomach grows tempered as embarrassment sets in, wanting with every fiber of my being to be able to erase my words from the air. His face drops, but he bounces back quickly.
“Mr. Park?” Liam quirks a brow as an amused smirk paints his lips, his eyes meeting my own with a surprisingly light expression. “Are we finally shifting into professional decorum, Miss Thatcher-Miles? I thought we abandoned that around the seven-hundredth time you called me a dick at work.”
His words sound aggrieved, but the expression on his face is nothing short of…playful? It nearly gives me whiplash how quickly he can shift his demeanor. However, I don’t miss the way his joking tone causes my stomach to twist.
“Don’t be cute with me, Park,” I say as I roll my eyes, biting back the grin that tries to crawl up to the surface.
He nibbles at the end of his pen, his gaze still fixed on me. “You think I’m cute, huh?”
I glare at him, finding a not-so-subtle cocky grin pointed across the room at me. “About as cute as an oozing sore on my ass.”
“You wound me.”
“No, I don’t.”
Liam shrugs, biting back a grin. His attention again returns to his work.
We go on like this for a while, silence falling over the room, but, unlike other times this has happened, it’s comfortable.The shift in the air is noticeable, but I worry if I acknowledge it I will ruin it and the pleasantries will die on contact.
“You did a good job on these,” Liam says, his voice cutting through the stark soundlessness of the office. I try not to share my surprise, but as my brows raise, he chuckles. “Don’t look so shocked.”
“On what?” I try to focus my attention on the task to which he’s referring and not the way the compliment makes my stomach flutter.
“The case files for the Reinman case are far more organized than I ever would have been able to do.”
I shrug my shoulders before I drop them, trying not to look him in the eye amidst his praise, knowing that the surprise plastered on my expression is unavoidable.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
Liam looks up at me before standing from his seat, moving over to my side of the room and resting against the edge of the desk.
“Hannah.” His playful tone is gone, a serious air about him setting in, but he’s not angry.
