“Chair’s broken,” I mutter, shooting a venomous look at Caleb’s back.
“Oh, dear.We should call maintenance.”
“Yes,” I say pointedly.“We should definitely call someone to investigate what happened to it.”
Caleb’s shoulders shake with what might be laughter, but he doesn’t turn around.The bastard.
I spend the rest of the morning working in the most uncomfortable position known to mankind, my knees nearly touching my chin and my lower back screaming in protest.Every time I shift in the chair, I catch Caleb watching me with a smirk.
I’m going to wipe that smirk off his face today if it’s the last thing I do.
* * *
I’ve finally managedto sweet-talk Fred from Maintenance into bringing me a replacement chair from storage by the time lunch rolls around.My back is thanking me when I settle into the properly functioning seat, though I can feel Caleb’s eyes on me from across our shared workspace.
“Comfortable?”he asks with that insufferable smirk.
“Very.”I don’t look up from my screen.“Thanks for asking.”
“Eve, Caleb.”Iris appears at our desks, tablet in hand and looking more put-together than she has in days.“I need you both at the yacht club at four.Final walkthrough with the venue manager before we lock in the event details.”
“Perfect,” I say, making a note in my calendar.“I’ll confirm with the craftsmen that they can?—”
“Oh, man,” Joshua interrupts, rolling his chair over from his desk with obvious excitement.“Did you say yacht club?Please tell me you’re meeting with Marina.”
Iris raises an eyebrow.“Marina Delacroix, yes.Why?”
“I met her last year at that industry networking event,” Joshua grins and pulls out his phone, scrolling through what looks like the yacht club’s website.“Trust me, Caleb, you are not prepared for her.Look at this.”
He holds up his phone, and despite myself, I'm leaning over to get a better look.I have to brace my hands on Caleb’s shoulders to see the screen properly, and the moment I touch him, I feel the muscles beneath his shirt tense.
The woman in the photo is beautiful—long blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, the kind of effortless elegance that comes from generations of old money.She’s standing on the deck of what looks like a multimillion-dollar yacht, wearing a crisp white blouse, a navy blue pencil skirt, and designer sunglasses.
“She’s gorgeous,” I admit without hesitation.No point in denying the obvious.
“Right?”Joshua grins.“And she’s super smart, too.Used to work for Sotheby’s before taking over the family yacht club.Perfect combination of brains and beauty.I tried asking her out, but she turned me down.She’s gay.”
“She is?”I blink at him.
“Has to be,” he sighs, gesturing to himself.“I mean, all this wasn’t able to turn her on.”
I roll my eyes.“That’s such a guy thing to say.She doesn’t want you, so she’s gay.Maybe you’re just a turnoff to her.”
Joshua considers my words, then scoffs.“Can’t be.Women find me irresistible.”
“Yeah, the crazy ones,” I sneer.“Face it, Joshua.She’s way out of your league.”
Steven looks over to study the picture, and he glances at Caleb.“Caleb could get her.”
Joshua looks over Caleb with a critical eye.“Maybe.But if she didn’t want me, she’s not going to want him.”
“Oh, give it up, Joshua.”Steven rolls his eyes.
I’m still leaning over Caleb’s shoulder, supposedly looking at the phone, but I’m hyperaware of how close I am to him.When I shift slightly to get a better angle of the screen, my hair brushes against his cheek, and I hear his sharp intake of breath.
“Impressive resume,” I say, trying to focus on the professional aspects rather than the way Caleb’s warmth is seeping through his shirt into my palms.
“Caleb certainly seems to think so,” Joshua says with a knowing grin.“Look at him!He’s practically drooling.”
