He turned back toward me, and before he could say a word, I cut him off at the pass. “I did some rearranging today, do you like it?”
“Not particularly.” He frowned.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess you can add it to the ever-growing list of things you don’t like about me or how I do things. Anyway, what can I help you with, Mr. Greyson?”
“Kel— Ms. Bryant, I don’t have time to address that comment at this moment, but believe me I will. Right now, we need to go over the agenda for the managers meeting, and I need to get some sales numbers from you.”
I motioned for him to have a seat, and we discussed the agenda. We only disagreed on a few points. He kept pinching the bridge of his nose. Apparently, I gave him a headache like he gave me one. I almost offered him some Tylenol, but then I thought he deserved to suffer. When we went over sales numbers and goals it got a little contentious as we haggled about where those numbers should be, but we eventually ended up on the same page as we each gave in a little.
“It’s important we show a united front and convey we’re a team, Ms. Bryant.” He stood ready to leave for the meeting.
“I guess you want to be team captain.”
He offered me a sincere smile. “That’s what I’ve been hired to do.”
“I suppose so.”
On that note, we walked down together to face the troops.
He stopped me on the landing. “I couldn’t have asked for a better co-captain, Ms. Bryant.”
“I don’t know whether to believe you or not but thank you.”
He tilted his head. “I’ve never lied to you.”
“Hmm.” Maybe he hadn’t ever really lied to me, but when you tell someone daily how much you’re crazy for her and then all of a sudden you stop for no real reason, it kind of seems like a lie. But that was ancient history, right?
“What?” He seemed confused.
I sighed. “Nothing, let’s just get this meeting over with.”
He took a moment to peer into my eyes as if he were desperate to know all my thoughts. I refused to allow him access. I turned with a loud exhale and walked down the stairs.
The meeting went better than I expected. I tried my best to soften Mr. Greyson’s rigid, no-nonsense way of putting things. I was proud that I did it without once contradicting him. Instead, I used humor and charm to get our point across. Honestly, I agreed with a lot of his ideas and plans, I only hated his delivery. His brilliance was masked by his seriousness. I kept hoping he would lighten up just a little, but that thought made me sad because I used to make it my job to get him to do just that.
I was exhausted by the time I got home. I had a hunch I would be feeling that way a lot now. Working with Mr. Greyson was emotionally taxing, and if I had to keep moving furniture, it was going to be physically taxing as well. I laughed to myself thinking about him trying to open that door.
But no matter how tired I was, I was going to belly dancing class. I needed some happy endorphins. It worked marvelously too. I loved our little instructor, Roslyn, from Panama. Her favorite phrases were, “Sexy ladies, show your body who is boss,” “Pop that booty,” and my favorite, “Check those inhibitions at the door.” I loved that for an hourI could pretend that I was some exotic, graceful dancer, all while burning calories. It was a win-win situation.
Just as I was feeling fabulous from the full effects of the endorphins, I was reminded why I had so desperately needed them. As I was walking out of the Y,hewas walking in.Of course he is. He had already invaded every other place in my life, why not here, my happy endorphin place? We both stopped on the sidewalk near the entrance. He was smiling mischievously as his eyes roved over my form fitting tank top and exercise pants. Not something I really wanted him to see me in, but oh well. At least he couldn’t tell me it was unbecoming of an executive.
“Mr. Greyson, let me guess, you have a membership at the Y, too.”
“I have to work out somewhere.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, well, enjoy your workout.”
I walked away without another word but turned back to catch another glimpse of him in his tight-fitting tee and shorts. Was he ever easy on the eyes, but unfortunately, he was watching me. He smirked at me, and I quickly turned around and hurried my pace. Stupid man.
When I walked in my apartment door, Charlie looked up at me lazily as if to say,You silly woman. I walked over and scratched his head. “You’re right Charlie, I am a silly woman.” He purred in agreement. I showered quickly, threw on some sweatpants and a tee. I sat cross-legged on my couch, turned on some mindless television, and enjoyed some warmed-up stew from the night before. My sister called and we chatted about my fun day. I had a feeling she was only calling me now for pure entertainment purposes, and honestly, as I recounted my day to her, I sounded ridiculous, moving furniture to block doors. What was I thinking?
As I was saying good night to my nieces, there was a knock on my door. I figured it was my neighbor, Faith, who I liked, but she used me as her second pantry. She probably needed an egg or something. I finished making kissing sounds and told Court and Sam I loved them before heading for my door. I opened it to find I should have ignored it. There stood Mr. Greyson, with a pint of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream along with two spoons, grinning like a fool in well-fitting dark jeans and a handsome button-up shirt.
“Mr. Greyson, do I dare even ask what you are doing here?”
“Kelli, please call me Ian.”
“At the office, too?”
