I have another horn that could increase both your productivity and mine.I wince inwardly. That was cringeworthy. I’m glad I didn’t say it aloud.
Instead, I scowl. “You have a productivity mascot? Whom you’ve named?” I scowl.
“It’s standard practice in glitter-powered management theory.” Her tone is bland.
I stare at her. She stares back.
Her lips twitch, and she breaks into a laugh that lights up the damn room.
I find my lips curving into a reluctant smile, because who can resist the sunshine that she seems to bring to every interaction of ours?
Less than a week of working together, and I’m charmed.
Ms. Lark Monroe might be sharp and driven and focused when it comes to work, but there’s also this girly side of her.
A contradiction someone else also appreciates, I remind myself, tearing my gaze from the flowers again.
“He’s my emotional comfort plush. I’ve had him since university.” She waves a finger at me. “Don’t judge.”
“You need an emotional comfort plush at work?” I frown.
She blows out a breath. “I’m ambitious. I expect a cutthroat work environment. But this place it’s corporate frostbite.” She glances around her office.
I follow her gaze. And see the space through her eyes.
Chrome furniture. Steel cabinet handles. A minimalist, charcoal desk that reflects nothing back. Floor-to-ceiling glass on one side offers a prime view of the skyline, clean, cold, expansive. The other walls are a tasteful but soulless white.
Even the carpet is gray. Not soft-gray. Not warm-gray. Just…gray. Corporate. Lifeless.
The kind of space that screams productivity and precision but never once says:Welcome. You belong here.
Outside, the office doesn’t fare much better. An expanse of frosted glass, polished steel, and uniform desks. No plants. No personality. Not a splash of color. Definitely no sign of human warmth.
No wonder, she needs a rainbow-maned unicorn to survive it. Something softens in my chest.Don’t do it. Don’t.I firm my lips. “Let’s do it.”
“Do what?”
“That…decoration thing you mentioned. Let’s do it.”
She brightens. “You mean, the Christmas decorations?”
I wince. Fucking hell. Am I agreeing to bring that complication into my office? Je-s-us. I straighten my spine. “Yes, put up holiday decorations. No Christmas tree, though.”
Her face falls.
And my heart tightens in my chest. Fuck, that is an unexpected reaction. Why do I care if my EA is disappointed? Besides, I did agree to festive decorations, didn’t I?
I step into her office to discuss next year’s sales projections and demand that she reforecast them, as I'm unhappy with the number. Instead, I end up agreeing toblech,holiday decorations. Bloody hell. I’m going soft in my old age. This woman is dangerous. I find myself doing things which are totally not in character for me.
I best get back to my office before I agree to something I don’t mean to.
I spin around and make tracks to my office. Before I can step through the door she calls out, “And the Holiday party?”
“Don’t push your luck,” I growl over my shoulder as I shut the door behind me.
I walk to my desk faster than necessary, irritated with myself.
I don’t like being caught off guard, especially not, by someone who’s only been in the role a few days. And definitely not by someone whose desk drawer contains a rainbow unicorn.
