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I need to stop with all the fantasies and, instead, put a wall up between us.
No matter how tempting she is.
Chapter 8
Blair
We’vemanagedtogoa whole week without any inappropriateness. A whole week of not eye-fucking each other at meetings and of keeping phone conversations professional.
It appears to be quite easy to do for Nick.
After that night in his office, I wasn’t sure how seeing him would affect me. Would I fantasize about his tight body? Would I be able to do my job effectively? Would he run his hand along the small of my back and tempt me into an illicit kiss?
No. Nick Weaver had been all tight smiles and professional handshakes.
There was a chill in him now that made me feel slightly ashamed. Apparently, he’d gotten what he wanted out of me.
The worst part was, I couldn’t even be mad. After all, I was the one who set the boundaries—no intimacy. Just professionalism. I needed a clear shot at that promotion, and although we’d crossed the line, we were right back on track.
I had an intern, Maria, reading through the first draft of the estate documents, and once she’d proofed them they’d go to Collin Weaver for approval. Then we could move on to the final stages of the project, wrap it up… and I’d never have to see Nick Weaver again.
I catch myself grinding my jaw as I think about all this.
“Are you okay?” Keith, the IT guy fixing my phone line, asks hesitantly. I’m rubbing at my temples, the headache I’ve had all day pounding harder despite taking Advil.
“Yes,” I sigh, pushing my chair back. I need some space. Maybe a walk down the hall will help. “Just a headache.”
What I don’t say to Keith is that along with a killer headache I’ve got horrible PMS. Worse than normal. My boobs are unusually sore. As I head toward the breakroom, I calculate the dates in my head. I won’t be on my period for another two weeks, so this breast tenderness doesn’t make any sense.
Luckily, there are only a few people in the breakroom because I don’t feel like talking to anybody. Harriet, a senior associate, is making tea at the counter. An intern whose name I can’t remember voraciously unwraps a sandwich at one of the tables, and two women from HR stand talking in a corner.
The smell of the corned beef sandwich permeates the room. I glance at the intern, nausea rising heavy in my throat, and press a hand over my nose.
“God,” I mumble, turning toward the cabinets and hurriedly searching out some type of herbal tea. I’m not much of a tea drinker, but my instinct tells me if may help my headache and now this nausea I’m feeling.
Harriet glances my way as I set the electric kettle to boil. She looks at my face which I’m guessing looks like I’m about to barf.
“Feeling okay, Blair?”
She’s one of the few senior associates who I actually like.
“Yeah, just… not feeling well today. And apparently, I don’t have the stomach for corned beef.”
I give her a weak smile, but she takes me in with a small frown. Her eyes dart to my purse as I dig out another two-pack of Advil, praying the water heats in time before this nausea takes over completely.
“You seem pretty tired lately. Do they still have you picking up extra clients?”
“Actually, it’s calmed down quite a bit. I’m back to my normal workload, but have one high-level client. It’s been okay so far.” My mind skirts over thoughts of Nick. The last thing I need right now is to get stressed out thinking of how to handle him going forward. Or…nothandle him.
Finally, the intern finishes the disgusting sandwich and heads back down the hall. Harriet shifts closer and leans in, speaking quietly.
“Blair, I’m so sorry, I don’t want to overstep but… you look an awful lot like I did when I was pregnant with Max.”
My eyes shoot to hers in shock. Then a laugh bubbles out of me. Pregnant? No way.
“I appreciate your concern, Harriet, but I’m sure it’s not that.”
She looks at the tea bag I’m dunking over and over, then back at my face. I get a glimpse of myself in the little magnet mirror on the fridge. She’s right. I do look tired, with bags under my eyes. And I’m a little pale…
