“Follow me.” Caleb motioned me toward glass doors leading into a bright, buzzing workspace.
We wove through the open layout of cubicles and desks strewn with sketches and building models. Offices lined the windows for management level. He pointed out the boardroom, kitchen, and restrooms. Finally, he stopped beside one set of cubicles.
“Maya,” he said, “this is Penny, the one I told you would be joining our team. Maya is lead architect and my right hand, basically.”
The woman looked up from her dual monitors, almond eyes sharp but kind. “Welcome. I have you all set here on thedesk beside me. You’ll shadow me this week so you can get comfortable with all the grunt work he’s going to dump on you.”
Caleb smirked. “Hey. Delegation is an art form I’ve mastered.”
“Mm-hm.” She rolled her eyes before flashing me an amused smile.
Some of my nerves unknotted. “I’m excited to get started.”
Caleb gestured to the desk. “Your laptop is ready to go. The login is on the sticky note. Check our shared task list often—I’ll fill it daily. Team briefing this afternoon. My office door’s open if you need anything.”
When he left, Maya leaned closer. “Rule number one—never volunteer for anything he says, especially if it starts with ‘quick favor.’”
I laughed, the sound loosening the tightness in my chest. Determination replaced nerves.
By eight p.m.Wednesday, the office had gone from bustling to whisper-quiet. Desks stood deserted except for the glow of task lights and the low hum of the HVAC overhead. Caleb had left two hours ago for dinner with a client. Maya had shot me a sympathetic look before escaping with her tote bag an hour ago.
I was still at it, finishing up my to-do list and tweaking elevations of a design on CAD. It surprised me how much of my education came back to me.
“There. Done.” I stretched my arms into the air. My bones cracked in protest. “Proud of you, Penny.”
Talking to myself helped ward off the silence. Somewhere, distant laughter echoed on this floor—proof I wasn’t the only one burning the midnight oil.
I grabbed my flash drive and trudged to the printer room, my feet like lead. Long days would get easier, I hoped. “Get this printed, then I’m out of here.”
Mid-way through, the printing machine groaned, sputtered, and choked. Paper got half-chewed somewhere within its depths. Lights flashed and beeps sounded off in protest.
“What the—?” I muttered, bending over and yanking at the doors and pulling out the paper drawer to peer inside. The page tore, scraps deep within its bowels. To retrieve it, I squatted and followed the pictogram instructions on the cover to no avail. “Oh, come on.”
“Need help?” Archer’s voice startled me.
“Oh, God!” I gasped, clutching my chest. “Is scaring me your thing?”
“Sorry.” He leaned on the door frame with a half-cocked smile—tie loosened, sleeves rolled, hair slightly mussed. The perfect picture ofworkplace sin.I turned back to the machine before a pool puddled in my panties.
“I—I’ve got it.” I tugged harder. The printer clattered in protest. “Ugh.”
He strolled forward. “This old girl is temperamental. She’s been with us since Brooks and I started. Let me show how it works.”
“Sure. My week’s been one long crash course,” I said, shifting aside.
He crouched beside me, thigh brushing mine. Heat skittered up my skin. “You can’t force it,” he murmured, voice a velvet scrape. “You have tocoaxit.”
Goosebumps rose along my arms at the sexy way the wordcoaxcame out of his mouth.
“Slide along the ridge until you find the right lever.” His fingers demonstrated, precise and slow—like he knew the body well, er,machinewell. I swallowed a moan.
“Find the rhythm. Push in a little. Out. In a little more. Use two fingers if you have to.” His voice dropped, gravel-soft. “Eventually, it’ll loosen up and spit out the jam. If not—give it a little slap on the behind.”
He did just that, bending over the “old girl” and smacking his palm against the broad side. The machine whirred to life, perfectly obedient now, shooting out my pages. I forgot to breathe.
He straightened, towering over me, belt buckle glinting at my eye level. “Did you catch all that, Ms. Fair?”
“All of it,Mr. Bellamy.” I rose slowly, arching my back, my breath shallow. His eyes caught mine, amusement flickering as he wet his lips.
