“Technically, I messed around with her before she was an employee,” I pointed out.
“Damien’s still not going to like it. He already thinks you hired her because you have a crush on her.”
“I do have a crush on her, but that’s not why I hired her, and you know it. She’s good at her job. She seems to fit in great with everyone.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m not saying anything contrary there. She’s leagues better than Jeannine. But you know Damien’s going to have a burr in his ass about it.”
“He has a burr in his ass about most things, so I don’t really care,” I shrugged.
“When are you going to tell him? You’ve been lucky so far that he—and Charlotte, for that matter—haven’t heard the gossip.”
“Whenever it comes up, I guess,” I said, reaching my truck.
“Well, I hope you know what you’re doing. If this date doesn’t work out, then you’ve created an uncomfortable situation for an employee of ours. What if she decides to quit?”
I opened the door to my truck and climbed in. “Or, what if the date works out and she’s here long-term, like Charlotte?” I said, closing my door in his face.
Easton’s eyes widened, like he hadn’t realized how serious my feelings were for Nellie. Heck, I didn’t even realize it until I found myself saying it out loud.
I didn’t wait around for him to say anything else. Peeling out of the parking lot, I went home to shower the mud and cold off my skin.
Chapter Seventeen
Nellie
* * *
Noah pulled up at seven on the dot to pick me up. I watched as he walked up the steps to my apartment, carrying a bouquet of flowers. I forced myself to wait until he knocked to open the door for him.
“Good evening. You look ravishing,” Noah said, a smile gracing his kissable lips as he seemed to drink me in.
“You clean up well yourself,” I replied, taking him in, too.
He was dressed up in a tailored blazer, a dress shirt, and a pair of navy chinos. He’d taken the time to style his hair similarly to how he’d styled it the night of the New Year’s party.
I’d never seen him look so suave before, and every version of Noah was appealing. The Witcher version, the drunken-still-asleep one, the casual winterwear one, the work clothes, the some-what-dressed up for New Year’s Eve one. Noah could pull off every look, it seemed.
At least I’d dressed up for the occasion, whatever it was. The long burgundy lantern sleeve sheath knit dress accentuated my curves and hid the slight belly I’d started to develop. I’d paired it with my knee-high boots and a black, fold-over collar dress jacket.
I’d curled my hair loosely to fall in voluminous waves down my back. My makeup wasn’t overly dramatic, but I’d played up my eyes and coated my lips in a sheer gloss.
Noah’s easy smile made my heart skip a beat in its chest, and so did the beautiful flowers he’d brought me: snowdrops and white roses, nestled in lush greenery to offset them.
“These are for you, my gorgeous date,” Noah said, holding out the flowers to me.
“Thank you,” I took them from him, swallowing back the emotion rising in my throat as I carried them into the kitchen, setting them down on the counter, thankful that they’d come in their own clear vase.
I didn’t have a vase. I’d never had a date bring me flowers before, so I’d never needed one.
Not that I’d really dated before. Casually hooked up, yes—but the expectations for flowers and fine dining weren’t exactly a prerequisite for casual hookups. This was something different for me, and I felt like I was on completely unstable ground.
But this wasn’t a real date, or at least it wasn’t supposed to be. So why did it feel like it was?
“I booked us a reservation at seven thirty at The Harvest Table,” Noah was saying from the doorway, his voice getting more and more muddled, as if I was sinking underwater.
I was fiddling with the flowers in their vase, my back to him, desperately trying to collect myself before I turned to face him or respond. But my emotions and my panic were getting the best of me. My breaths were choppy, like I couldn’t pull in air calmly, and my eyes were watering.
I couldn’t sit through a dinner with him looking at me the way he did and not have the truth explode from me.
