“Catherine is interviewing for it, and I was going to do a mock interview pre-breakfast. You know, run her through her paces. Your input would be so valuable”—I swipe the windblown tendrils out of my face—“if you’re open to that. No pressure about doing any interview tutoring. The invite isn’t contingent. It could just be lady bonding.”
“Both thelady bondingand the interview tutoring sound lovely. If it truly is not a bother.”
“Not at all…” I let out a nervous laugh. “It’s not a bother. It’s a pleasure.”
“Then I would absolutely love to join you two.”
“There you are, Jensen,” Garrett says, annoyance boosts his low bass.
I pivot towards his voice. “Yes… I am Jensen. Who is this?” I mock-simper.
Garrett’s timbre’s deep rumble is imprinted into my brain, allowing me to recognize him auditorily. We both know this, but the desire to mess with him is too strong. It’s my favorite partabout him taking me home each day.Thatand his heated car seats.
Reaching me, he lets out a beleaguered breath. “Smartass.”
“My butt does have a genius-level IQ. It may even be in MENSA.” I wiggle my backside just a bit.
“Seriously, Jensen.” His groan offers a hint of a chuckle.
Yes!He’s totally smiling. My wry grin is large, knowing that I got him. Joy cascades within me at Garrett betraying his grumpy nature. It’s better than a brownie sundae, minus the cherry. The cherry on top of this dessert would be if I got him to laugh out loud, which I know I will. One day, this man will break and lose himself with me in belly-deep, full body-racking laughs.
“That was quite the greeting,” Kayla muses.
“That’s Jensen for you.” No doubt a poker face expression covers Garrett’s face.
“She certainly is,” she chuckles. “Kayla O’Leary.”
He reaches out his hand. “Garrett Marlowe.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Sorry… I am terrible at intros. Garrett, Kayla. Kayla, Garrett”—I motion between us—“though you already know that.”
“Stellar,” he quips.
“What are you doing here?” My lips pucker into not quite a pout. “You’re early, and this isn’t even my office. Wait, how did you know I was even here? Are you stalking me? Seriously, we need to discuss putting your overprotective nature in airplane mode.”.
“Stalking? Don’t flatter yourself, Jensen. Since we’re bringing dinner to Anker tonight, I left the hospital a little early. Nobody was at your office, and you didn’t answer your phone, so I headed toward the coffee shop near the library because I assumed your sugary latte addiction led you there.”
Mouth ticked up into a smirk, I place my free hand on my hip and pop it for emphasis. “Sounds pretty stalkery, would you agree, Kayla?”
“It does skirt the line.”
“Seriously?” He laughingly scoffs. “If you picked up your phone once in a while, you’d know I was here.”
“It is awfully dashing for your stalker to give you a warning,” Kayla teases.
“It is, isn’t it? Like something out of an Austen novel.” I bat my eyes. “Stalker Darcy.”
“You’re hilarious,” he mutters.
“I’m here all week.” I curtsy.
“Speaking of Mr. Darcy, I have a talk at the Austen Literary Society, so I should dash. Garrett, it was nice meeting you.”
“And you,” he says.
“Jensen, let me air drop my contact information to you, so you can send me the details for brunch tomorrow,” Kayla says.
