“You’re not fooling anyone,” she said.
“I’m not trying to fool anyone. I’m trying to feed people. The fact that you’re determined to see sinister motives in free sandwiches says more about you than me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t have a problem with anything.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Then why are you in my office?”
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. The flush on her cheeks deepened, spreading down her neck, and I wondered how far it went. Wondered if I would ever get to find out.
“I just wanted to make sure you understood,” she said finally, “that I don’t need your charity.”
“It’s not charity. It’s lunch.”
“It’s you, trying to?—”
“Trying to what?” I stood up, and she took an instinctive step back before catching herself. I moved around the desk, slow and deliberate, and watched her hold her ground even though every line of her body was screaming at her to retreat.
“Trying to be nice? Trying to show my employees I value them? Tell me, Pauline—what terrible crime am I committing by buying people food?”
She was breathing faster now. I could see her pulse fluttering at the base of her throat, just above where her grandmother’s necklace rested against her skin.
Her eyes darted to my chest—I’d rolled my sleeves up earlier, and I saw her gaze snag on my forearms before she yanked it back to my face.
“You know what you’re doing,” she said, but her voice had lost some of its edge.
“Do I?”
“You’re trying to get under my skin.”
“Is it working?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
Her jaw tightened. She spun on her heel, apparently deciding that retreat was the better part of valor, and grabbed the door handle.
She pulled.
Nothing.
I watched her yank on the handle again, harder this time, her whole body straining with the effort. The door rattled in its frame but didn’t budge.
“Problem?” I asked, not bothering to hide my amusement.
“The door is stuck.”
“Is it?”
She shot me a look that could have curdled milk. “Did you do this?”
“Yes, Pauline. I sabotaged my own office door in the thirty seconds between you storming in here and now, specifically to trap you with me.” I walked over and tried the handle myself. Solid. Completely jammed. “It’s an old building. These things happen.”
“Fix it.”
