“I’ve cooked,” she announces, and that’s when I notice the sauce stains on her shirt. “Nothing fancy, just some pasta. I know you’re used to Michelin-star dining. This is more Lexi-star quality.”
I let out a low chuckle, feeling the tension bleed out of me just from being near her. “I can already tell this is going be the best meal I’ve had in ages.”
She shoots me a skeptical look. “I highly doubt that. Do you cook?”
“I’ve got a private chef. He comes in, works his magic in my kitchen, and disappears like a ghost. Yeah, I’m a demanding guy.”
“You don’t say.”
My hand instinctively goes to her behind, giving it a playful smack. My blood’s already pumping imagining claiming her later.
As we walk in, I catch sight of someone peeking out from another room.
“Hey there, Grace,” I greet with a grin.
“Hi, Connor.” She bounces out, like she’s been itching for an excuse to make an appearance. “I’ve been told to make myself scarce.”
“Which is a tough ask in our apartment,” Lexi adds, rolling her eyes. “So I bribed her. She’s heading out for dinner.”
“I’m being sent to Taco Bell,” Grace sulks. “Hardly fine dining.”
I laugh, digging out a couple of fifties from my wallet. “Go on, treat yourself to something nicer, on me. Only fair since you’re vacating the premises on account of my visit.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I catch a shift in Lexi’s expression, a flicker of something I hadn’t intended. Damn, I definitely miscalculated that one. But before I can even think to smooth over the awkwardness, Grace has already snagged the cash with a sly grin.
“Thanks! I’ll be spending dinner cramming for this graphic design exam coming up,” Grace announces, clearing her throat awkwardly. “I’m all in when it comes to my passions.”
“Is that so?” I chuckle. The subtle plug hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Good to know.”
She holds my gaze, waiting for something. Lexi rolls her eyes in exasperation.
“Oh right, I almost forgot,” Grace adds, her attempt at casualness falling flat. “I took a stab at redesigning the Quinn & Wolfe website for my coursework. Fancy a look . . . ?”
Lexi shoots her a scolding look. “Grace, honestly—”
“What?” Grace looks between us with wide, innocent eyes. “I’ve got the owner of my dream job in my living room. Call it seizing the opportunity.” She fixes me with a look that’s all determination. “I’m the kind of asset your company needs.”
“It would seem so. All right then, opportunist, let’s see what you’ve got,” I say with a grin I can’t suppress. Subtle she is not, but I admire the gall.
Grace conveniently has her laptop ready with the prototype site, and she’s buzzing with anticipation. She shamelessly pitches her website redesign to me, explaining why it’s the game-changer my company can’t live without.
It’s oddly calming. She’s got that early-days hustle vibe, the kind where you’re all in because, really, what’s there to lose? Reminds me of my balls-to-the-wall younger self, chasing every opportunity. Part of me misses those days when I had nothing to lose.
Because now the stakes are so much higher. It feels like every time I puts a foot out of place some tower is going to collapse somewhere. I have my brother on my back, my mom. Not to mention a board of directors eyeballing my every move.
I’m not sold on the idea of a multimillion-dollar rebrand based on a student project, but I’m not about to crush her spirit. I give her design the attention it deserves, careful to give her some feedback without bringing her down.
“Make sure to showcase this in your interview. Our team will definitely appreciate your go-getter attitude,” I suggest, genuinely impressed by her drive and enthusiasm.
Grace scampers off, a bounce in her step, satisfied that she has made a good impression.
I draw Lexi close, chuckling against that silken hair. “You’ve got to hand it to her—she really goes for it.”
She lets out a sigh. “Sorry she ambushed you.”
I smirk. “No need for apologies. I admire the hustle.” I kiss the top of her head.
She studies me pensively. “Us being nice to each other feels a bit strange,” she admits.
