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"Only on the right cheek. I'm fine, I swear." And I wish with every iota of my willpower that he would stop touching me. This man is my kryptonite, and I don't even like superhero movies. "You can, um, take back your hand. I'm not sick. But thank you for asking."
He steps back. "We're away to the cafeteria, then. Fiona, would you care to join us?"
"You should talk to Rebecca alone. No one understands this distillery better than you do, and our new marketing director needs all that knowledge."
Oh, yeah, she's playing matchmaker for sure.
Chapter Five
Thane
Does Fiona think I haven't noticed what's she's about? The smuilceag is trying to orchestrate a romance between me and Rebecca, though calling Fiona a chit hardly describes her attitude. She means to drag the American Wives Club into my life, but that's highly inappropriate and bloody annoying. Rebecca is my employee, not my girlfriend. I can't be angry with Fiona, though, since she's one of the kindest people I've ever met, and she has become my right-hand lass ever since she accepted my job offer.
Rebecca must wonder what sort of workplace she has joined. Fiona, who is her superior, shouldn't be pushing the lass to get involved with me. I have no time for dating, anyway. This company is my mistress.
How does fucking Rebecca in the forest fit into my work ethic? Not a sodding clue. I will never touch the lass again. Never.
I scratch my arm, then scratch my cheek, all while shifting my weight from one foot to the other three times. What a bloody stupid erse I am, seducing my new employee on her first day at work. Not that it would be acceptable for me to do that later on. Mhac na galla. What if I've ruined my business relationship with Rebecca?
The lass in question wrinkles her brows. "Are you okay, Thane?"
"Aye, fine." She must think I dinnae want to be alone with her, considering my uncomfortable demeanor. Rebecca probably worries that I'll drag her into the nearest janitorial closet and ravish her again. I would never do such a thing, but she hasn't known me long enough to realize that.
Fiona glances between me and Rebecca, her smile tightening the dimples in her cheeks. "You two don't need me anymore. Enjoy your lunch."
The smuilceag trots down the hall and glances back at us while grinning. Then she disappears down the hallway that leads to the cafeteria.
I have never been the violent sort or the type of man who swears at a woman, but Fiona's meddling makes me imagine all the ways I could murder her without anyone ever finding the remains. Aye, Fiona has driven me insane.
Rather than resorting to murder, I shove my hands into my trouser pockets and hunch my shoulders as I face Rebecca. "You shouldn't feel obligated to have lunch with me. That was Fiona's barmy idea. Ever since she married Domhnall Sterling and joined the American Wives Club, the lass has turned into a matchmaking machine."
"American Wives Club? What is that?"
I sigh and slump my shoulders. "It's complicated."
That is the understatement of the millennium.
Rebecca rolls her shoulders back. "Well, then, I guess you better take me to lunch in the cafeteria so you can explain what that club is about. Don't you think?"
"That does seem to be the best option."
"Good. Let's go."
She starts walking down the hall with her shoulders back and her head held high, as if she has a single sodding clue about where the cafeteria is located. When she reaches the next corridor, she stops and turns her head this way and that, clearly baffled about where to go. She chooses a direction seemingly at random and heads down the adjacent corridor.
I catch up to the lass and walk alongside her. "Have you visited the cafeteria yet?"
"Nope. I'm flying blind---unless you show me the way."
"Happy to assist you."
I continue walking beside her rather than moving ahead to lead the way, simply because my mother taught me that racing ahead of a woman is poor etiquette. Instead, I point to the corridor we need to go down and assure Rebecca that the cafeteria is just a wee ways off. She smiles brightly when I say that. What about that simple statement is entertaining? I reckon it's the fact that I used the word wee, but that doesn't seem amusing to me. It's a common word.
Once we reach the swinging doors on the left side of the hall, I hold one half open for the lass. She smiles brightly again. I fight the impulse to ask for an explanation of her behavior since it doesn't matter to me. I catch up to Rebecca as the door swings shut behind me and lead the way again since I know this cafeteria better than she does. A table in the far corner is empty, and it's away from most of the other gents and lasses who are enjoying their lunch.
A few people notice us, and they seem to be whispering to each other as if the fact I'm having lunch with our new marketing director is a noteworthy event. Based on their expressions, I have a feeling they're gossiping about us. No, I dinnae care about that, and I dinnae want to be alone with her. Well, aye, I do. But only so we can discuss business without anyone overhearing us. I have no plans to seduce her again.
Naturally, I pull her chair out for her.
