“I know men like Nicholas, too, and I was . . .”
I looked back over to him, to find him tenderly looking at me. Why did he have to look and act like Ian?
“I wanted to make sure you were treated like you deserve.”
I was completely taken aback. I wasn’t sure how to respond. “Thank you, but I don’t think that’s part of your job description.”
“Have you actually seen my employment contract?” he teased.
“You’re in a mood today.”
His finger lightly skimmed my shoulder. “Maybe it has something to do with the Nashville scenery.”
Thank goodness the girls swam up to us and splashed us both in the process because my body was about to come unhinged from his soft touch.
“Girls, I want you to meet someone. This is my boss, Mr. Greyson.”
“The idiot?” Sam said with no regard or qualms.
Courtney giggled.
My sister and I needed to quit talking around them.
Embarrassed, I bit my lip and turned toward Mr. Greyson who had his eyebrow raised sky high at me, but he didn’t address me. He turned to my nieces. “What else has your aunt said about me, ladies?”
“Oh no, no, no . . .” I cut in.
The girls laughed harder, and I knew I was in trouble. “Well . . .” they said in unison.
That was it. I jumped in the pool and tried to grab the little troublemakers, but they swam off to the other side of the pool laughing all the way. I wiped the water off my face and looked up at Mr. Greyson.
“So, this is what you really think of me?” he asked.
There was no sense in denying it. “Believe me, I’ve thought worse things of you.”
It was like I had sucked out all the sunshine in his soul. His entire body deflated. I felt terrible, even though it was true. Did he not understand how much he hurt me so long ago? But still, I should have held my tongue. “Ian . . . I mean Mr. Greyson, I’m sorry.”
“No Kelli, I’m the sorry one.” With that he got up, gathered all his things, and left.
I watched him walk away, and part of me ached. When he was no longer in sight, I sank under the water and wondered why I was letting him have such an effect on me.
I didn’t see him the rest of the weekend, which was probably agood thing. His actions confused me, and by Monday I was even more confused. I was finally going to see why we were wasting company funds on Ms. Manselle. I was at least happy to know she had actually done some work. Whenever I saw her, she wasn’t designing anything—unless you counted her designs on Mr. Greyson.
Matt and I showed up to the conference room, waiting to be dazzled by her new designs. The meeting was supposed to start at nine, but the two love birds were all cooped up in Mr. Greyson’s office. I guess they needed a warm-up session. I still didn’t get it, and I didn’t get him. What did he see in her? Personally, or professionally?
They came in fifteen minutes late. Alexa looked frazzled and Mr. Greyson looked out of sorts. Maybe they’d had a lover’s spat, but then the presentation started and the kindest word I could think of to describe it was “awful.” I could tell Mr. Greyson thought so too, but it didn’t keep him from trying to smooth it over. He kept saying things like, “Just visualize this or that.” It was pathetic. I mean how could I visualize incomplete and blank slides?
I kept my mouth shut, but Mr. Greyson kept looking at me like he was daring me to say something. I didn’t have to, the erratic, incoherent presentation spoke for itself.
Matt’s comments tied it up nicely. “I can’t work with this. I think it would be better to stick with our current interface.” He threw his pad of paper on the table.
I tried my hardest not to smirk, but it was really hard. It was even harder not to go and get my designs. I was even tempted to tell Matt about them and secretly show them to him, but I refrained.
“We’ll get this right,” Mr. Greyson assured us.
I gave into my urge and smirked at him. Matt shook his head in disgust, and Ms. Manselle pouted.
I will say this, it seemed to light a fire under her. I saw her more at work than at play for the next couple of days.
