“That’s okay. I’m happy to help if I can. Send it over, and if there’s anything I don’t understand, I’ll ask you.”
Kaitlin takes a cup out of the cabinet and glances at me warily. “Thanks.”
My brow furrows. “What is it?”
She pulls the coffee toward her, glancing at the entrance to the kitchen again. “Don’t tell Beatrice I’m giving you more stuff to do, okay? She’s been impossible all morning.”
“I won’t say a word, don’t worry. And I won’t screw it up, I promise.”
Kaitlin laughs. “I wish I had your confidence. It’s like you’ve done this job all your life.”
“Oh, it’s all an act,” I say with a grin. “I’m really quite incompetent!”
Kaitlin chuckles as I flash her a wave and leave the kitchen.
By the time I’m back at my desk, I only have to wait a couple of minutes before the email comes through. Opening it, I’m pleased to see it’s a supplier I’ve used at another job. I used to have a good relationship with one of the account managers, and I smile, knowing that he’ll do anything I ask.
I pick up the phone and get to work.
By 3 p.m., I’ve barely thought about theotherpart of my job at all. Kaitlin and Julia have stopped by regularly to thank me for my help, and I’m starting to feel like one of the team.
Beatrice is still a ghost, never coming within thirty feet of me, but I try not to take it personally.
I eat lunch alone, spending some time talking to Annabelle. As we laugh together, she tells me how much more relaxed I seem, even after such a short time on the job. I didn’t realize how much my stress was getting to her, but she’s mentioned it severaltimes. It’s certainly nice to just have to think about one job for a change.
The afternoon passes quietly after our call. As I reply to a few emails, I notice the latte cup on my desk again. I want to return it to Crawford, but I’m too nervous about knocking on his door.
Upon closer examination, I can see some kind of engraving at the base of the cup. Picking it up, I squint at it, trying to make it out. It’s beautifully done; two letters intertwined with one another. An ‘L’ and an ‘M’. I swallow, running my thumb over it.
This must be the ‘Megan’ that Kaitlin was talking about.
My stomach churns, and I’m about to place it back down on my desk when the door to Crawford’s office bursts open and I almost drop the cup in surprise.
Placing it gently back down, I wait as he comes over to stand opposite me. His dark brown eyes are fixed on me, and he puts his hands in his pockets.
I feel an infuriating blush heat my cheeks as I look up at him. There’s an intensity in his gaze that makes me tremble. He’s wearing shoes, which means he must be headed out of the office, and my mind races to try and recall if he had an appointment this afternoon. I can’t remember one.
“Come with me,” he says, his voice rumbling over me like thunder.
He doesn’t wait for me to follow him, and I scramble to grab my purse, tugging my jacket off my chair as I run after him.
I stumble as I leave my office and catch Beatrice’s eye, where she’s sitting at her desk. She looks at Crawford, then back at me, narrowing her eyes before she returns to her work.
Oh great, and now I’m somehow encroaching on her territory.
By the time I reach the elevators, I’m breathless and have to hop inside behind Crawford before the doors close. I’m not sure he even noticed I wasn’t right behind him.
I move to the back of the elevator, trying to calm my racing heartbeat. He looks even taller in the confined space, and my eyes run over the immaculate line of his body. He looks distinguished and elegant, whereas I feel like a hot mess.
I’m tense, wondering if he’ll do anything or say anything while we’re in the cramped space, but he doesn’t move. After a while, I notice him glancing up to the corner of the elevator and see the camera. I feel a little bubble of satisfaction.
Maybe he would do something with me right now if we weren’t being watched.
The elevator dings, and we end up in the parking lot. I drove today, and my shitty car is squatting between a bunch of Mercedes and Range Rovers. I keep my eyes on the ground as we step out of the elevator.
I expect us to walk to Crawford’s car, but instead, a black Lexus rolls up to us, as if conjured by thought alone.
As it slows to a stop, a sturdy-looking guy with a shaved head gets out and opens the door for Crawford. He has a huge grin on his face and stifles a laugh as Crawford murmurs something to him before he disappears inside.
