It’s not an ideal location. After only an hour in this spot, I’d say a good chunk of the marketing department has been in and out of the room. I’ve noticed that the minute they see me, they either turn and leave again or they work quickly to get whatever it is they came for. When Lindsay, social media guru, sees me, she approaches my table. “Why are you working in here?”
I look up at her and wonder how much I should say. The professional side of me knows I should just shrug off the shit with Clive and the office space. I mean, Graham didn’t promise me a private office. I requested one, but I’m not about to rock the boat.
The unprofessional side of me, however, wants to pitch a bitch fit about the office situation. I know I can’t say anything about Clive—that’d place me in an awkward position since he’s been named my liaison—so I go with something that works for both sides. “I don’t feel I should share an office with anyone, so I came in here.”
She looks back at the open doorway, then leans forward. In a hushed tone, Lindsay says, “We can’t figure out what the deal is with Clive and that office.”
“Oh?” Me neither.
“But”—she leans back—“there’s a conference room over in there.” She points to the opposite side of the building. “We rarely use it. You could set up in there. The chairs are much more comfortable, and you could really spread out.”
I smile because that’s exactly what I need. “You sure?”
Lindsay smiles back. “I’m sure.” She moves a little closer. “And people are afraid to use the break room with you sitting in here. They think you’re keeping track of breaks.”
I nod. “I wondered.” Gathering up my things, I lift my bag and begin to put things away. “I’ll move to that conference room.”
“What’s wrong with your office?” a man’s voice rumbles.
Lindsay turns, and I look up to see Ben. “She needs her own space to work,” she explains.
Ben shakes his head. “Why the hell does Clive get the big office?”
“No idea,” Lindsay replies quickly. “It is what it is.”
Ben’s brows furrow, giving him a confused yet angry expression. “It’s bull is what it is.”
Lindsay ignores his words and steps toward the doorway. “Well, see you. Gotta get to work.”
“Yeah,” Ben mumbles as he makes his way to the coffee maker. He stops suddenly. Turning his head toward me, he frowns. “Is this okay? I can leave if you feel uncomfortable.”
“No. I’m heading over to the conference room to set up there.”
“Fine.” Ben pulls a ceramic mug from the cupboard and pours himself some coffee.
I watch as he adds an excessive amount of sugar into the cup. It surprises me. The guy is obviously fit. I mean… look at him. I glance from his shoulders down to his ass and pause there. My goodness. He’s got a nice butt. That ass wasn’t created with sugar. More like weights and squats. Lots and lots of squats.
“What?” he says as he turns to leave.
“Huh?” I blink at him.
“Did I do something?”
“No.” This is awkward. “Just finishing a thought.”
“Oh.” He pauses. “Okay.” Just as he exits the room, he leans back, and in a low whisper, he adds, “I repeat, it’s bull that Clive took over that office.” And then he’s gone.
Obviously there’s some bad blood between the two men. Now I just need to find out why.
Chapter Eight
Ben
I wasn’t mincing words.It’s horse shit that Clive’s got himself set up in that office like a fucking king. And what is he doing in there? If Alison Kirby doesn’t need him around, what’s the point? He’s the fuckingliaison. But I need to keep my head down. I probably said too much back there, but why hide my feelings? It won’t matter since I’m positive that a good chunk of Clive’s green dossier is about me. No amount of gaslighting is going to change that since he spent the majority of his day before all this with me. Then there’s the fact that she’s got a predisposed opinion of me as a pervert….
Shit.
I probably need to start looking for a new job. Not a bad idea to look now, before I get canned. It’d be much better for me in the long run if I secure something else beforehand.
