I’ll do all the work—just drop me off so I can?—
“Miss Dawson?” Mr. Saint’s deep voice startled me, making me look up before I could finish my message. “Is that you?”
“No. Not at all.” I returned my envelope to the bottom of the stack. “If you put on your contacts, you’ll see it’s someone else.”
“It sounds like you.”
“It’s not me. I’m not Jenna.”
His low laugh sent unwanted butterflies fluttering in my stomach, and before I could slip through the emergency exit, he strolled toward me.
His deep green gaze pinned me to the spot, daring me to move. Swallowing, I pretended my heart wasn’t skipping a beat with his every step.
When he was finally in front of me, close enough for me to reach out and touch, I could see why every woman who caught a glimpse of him did a slow double take.
“What was that in your hand?” he asked. “It looked like you were reading something.”
“My phone?” I held it up. “I was texting Francis.”
“I’m talking about before that,” he said. “It looked like one of my envelopes…”
“I should schedule another eye exam for you, then,” I said. “You did mention your eyes would start to wane like your father’s eventually.”
“So, you weren’t looking at my lists?” He smirked, making my stomach flip again.
“I really need to find a body that’s loyal to my brain.”
“Come again, Miss Dawson?”
“Nothing.” My cheeks heated. “I wasn’t looking at your lists. I was just checking on things like you said.”
“Hmmm.” He didn’t look like he believed me at all. “Well, if you want to open your envelope before anyone else arrives, I’ll allow it.”
“That’s okay. I can totally wait.”
“Then can you hand it to me, please?”
“Um…no, uh—I think someone in the secretarial department must’ve left it out. It’s not here.”
“So you were looking for it?”
“I refuse to confirm or deny.”
“Hmmm.” He stepped around me, gently tugging the envelope from the stack. “Looks like it’s opened.”
“It opened itself.”
“Well, in that case, I’m sorry I won’t be able to give you a bonus.” He smiled, not looking sorry at all. “But if you’re nicer to me next year, maybe things will change.”
“I could’ve sworn the nice list was performance-based.” I crossed my arms.
“It is.”
“Then I should’ve been the first person to receive a bonus.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.” I glared at him. “Oh.”
