Louder than I should have in church, and of course just as the pastor stood up, out of complete frustration I blurted out, “I think you mean when hell freezes over.”
The pastor looked my way, as did most everyone. Amanda lost it and began shaking uncontrollably, trying not to laugh out loud. Zane was grinning like an idiot, and Sam and Court put the final nail in the coffin. “Ohhh, you said hell in church,” they said in stereo.
That did it. Amanda lost it for reals, and so did I. We both had to leave to the stares of our fellow church goers. I’m sure they all thought we had lost our minds, and in my case they were correct. Once in the foyer, we laughed so hard it hurt. We were going to hell for sure.
Our little indiscretion at church was played over and over at the Culver dinner table that night. Maybe it was sacrilegious, but I needed the laugh after the month I had been having. To make up for it, I would put a hefty donation in the plate next week at church. Annoyingly, another thing that was overplayed that night at dinner was Amanda and Zane’s obsession with Mr. Greyson, whom they called Ian. They were both convinced he had it bad for me and it was just a matter of time before we rekindled our romance. I adamantly disagreed and left early.
Monday dawned and I thought I would be happy that I had a Mr. Greyson-free week or two to look forward to, but oddly I didn’t feel that way. I found myself poring over that stupid note again. I should have just chucked it, but for some reason I couldn’t. I did wear jeans though, just for spite.
I rushed into the office, hoping to head Delfia off at the pass. I hoped she hadn’t already started to blab about the news my traitorous sister shared with her at the retirement party. My hopes rose as I noticed hers was the only car in the parking lot. I jogged in as best I could in heels and raced up to the executive level. There I found her as usual; busy as a bee, typing away, but as soon as she heard me, she turned to face me. A Cheshire grin broke out across her face. I shook my head at her, and she laughed.
“I knew you and Mr. Greyson had a thing.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “I could say the same thing about you and Matt.”
She blushed. I don’t think I had ever seen her do that. “I know he’s kind of young.”
I walked toward her and touched her arm. “I think it’s great, and he’s a lucky guy,” but I had to throw in, “you cougar.”
She chuckled a little. “We kind of want to keep it quiet. Well, at least Matt does. He’s not a big fan of interoffice dating.”
Perfect. “Well . . . I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine.”
She held out her hand. “Deal, my friend.”
Inwardly, I took a big sigh of relief while shaking her hand.
“But,” she said, “I want details.”
I laughed as I walked away toward my office. There would be no divulging of details. When I walked into my office, I shut my door. It was weird that had become a habit. Before Mr. Greyson, I never really shut that door, but now it was commonplace. I wondered if it would ever be different. Would I ever become comfortable with him being my boss?
I found myself staring at my credenza that remained in front of the adjoining door, and I found myself wondering why he had to go back to Colorado so soon. He said it was personal. I wondered if it wasthe woman who he had tried to get over. Then I wondered why I wondered before I told myself to enjoy my Mr. Greyson-free zone and to get to work.
I took the time while he was gone to work on the graphics for the new release of my marketing software. I knew he wanted to hire that out, but I had a feeling he was going to use whoever designed the logo concepts, and those were basically terrible except for the one, and even that needed my help. Of course, I didn’t think we needed a new interface, but as he did, I decided to do some more research. I felt like I had come up with a perfect blend of what he called sexy and what I knew was practical and intuitive. It was my plan to wow him when he came back.
Around ten, while I was in deep design mode, my phone rang, and for some reason I smiled when I looked at the caller ID. “Good morning, Mr. Greyson.”
“You sound chipper, Ms. Bryant.”
I guess since it was working hours, I was Ms. Bryant. He really was annoying.
“Of course, I am. My boss is out of town.”
“Don’t get used to it,” he quipped.
“So, are you calling to see if I put your coffee filter instructions to good use this morning?”
That made him chuckle. “No, but did you?”
“I framed them and put them up in the break room.”
“Kel—” He cleared his throat. “Ms. Bryant,” he corrected himself in his this-isn’t-the-time-to-be-humorous-after-all-it’s-business-hours tone.
“Yes, Mr. Greyson?”
“Lorelai Duchane emailed me and would like us to email her a proposal. Do you think you can work on that?”
“I think I can manage that.”
