“Great,” I tell him, bouncing my knee as the nerves zing through me.
“One more thing. I feel the need to be upfront about this before I bring anyone on because it seems to be a trending issue in the local restaurants, but we frown upon interwork relationships. I hope that won’t be an issue for you?”
Isn’t he the one who has been hovering over the hostess each time I’ve spotted him? My fantasies of this man and his junk will have to come to a quick halt, I suppose. “Of course. That makes perfect sense.”
“Very well, then. I’m happy to have you on board, Ashley. I’m looking forward to you joining the team.”
“Same. I’m looking forward to working under you,” I tell Noah, standing from my seat. He’s just staring at me, and I wasn’t planning to be the first one to stand, but I’m wondering if he’s expecting me to leave his office now.
“Uh, we can work side-by-side for now. How about that? No one needs to be under anyone, am I right?”
Did I just say I’m looking forward to working under him? Oh God. Why doesn’t my mouth work the way it’s supposed to? “I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you meant,” he says, laughing wryly.
“Okay good,” I say, sweeping my hair off my neck, or unsticking it from my neck, rather.
“Here, I’ll walk you out,” he says, standing from his desk. Noah comes up behind me and places his hand on my lower back before reaching forward for the door handle. The warmth from his hand seeps through my shirt, offering me a quick sensation of zings.
I swear his hand slips a little lower as we descend the stairs. “Hey,” he utters, stopping me in the middle of the stairwell. “Sometimes in life, we have to be professional to the point of keeping us from acting out on what we want, but I’d be happy to show you around the downtown area if you need a tour guide.” I think it’s safe to assume he saw me staring at his engorged junk. I’ve been acting like a dirty man staring at a broad set of breasts. What is wrong with me?
My pulse is racing, feeling his whispered words melt against my neck, the way his hand is gently wrapped around my wrist. This stuff is not supposed to happen in job interviews. “A tour guide?” Is he being literal? Of course, he is. He’s my new boss. Maybe it’s essential to the job that I’m able to discuss the area with the patrons. I’m sure that’s all this is.
“Yeah, minus the loudspeaker and hiked up khaki shorts,” he jests.
“I’ll let you know if I need to be shown around,” I tell him, smiling as I might puke.
I take another step down, and I should have figured I would skip the next step after that because I can’t seem to get my legs to work here in this state. Noah catches me by my arm, pulling me upright before I fall. “Should I be worried about you carrying a tray?”
Yes, you should be worried about me carrying a tray ... especially if you plan to continue to say nice things to me like what you just said.
“I assume there won’t be these types of distractions causing me to lose my balance while I’m working,” I retort.
“I don’t know, Ashley, sometimes a challenge can be fun, right?” He smirks. “I’m kidding. We have rules to follow, right?”
Dear God. Nothing good is going to come out of this. I’ll be fired within a week.
I shove my hand in front of me, offering to shake his again. “Noah, thank you very much for this generous job opportunity. I will not let you go down in any way.”
“Noted,” he says. “Thank you.”
I just said what I think I said. Shit. I don’t think he has noticed.
We make our way down the remaining steps, through the kitchen, and into the main dining area without another word.
I leave him standing at the hostess podium as I walk out the front doors, having the urge to turn around and see whatever reaction I’m leaving behind.
I shouldn’t have turned around though, because I do so, just in time to see his arm slip around the hostess’ waist. He must be a player. It’s obvious. No dating at the workplace unless he says so. I’ve met his type.
On the other hand, go figure a man-like him would offer to show me around “downtown.” I know full well what that kind of tour guide does.
With a bit of aggravation running through my blood, I head down the few blocks until I reach the circle of villas. Only one person is outside, thankfully, and he’s mowing his lawn. I figured everyone would be at work or tending to work right now, but evidently, Theo doesn’t have regular working hours.
Now, I know where Theo lives. Two villas down from me. The lawn mower’s engine is released as I approach the sidewalk in front of him. “Ash,” he calls out. I guess he’s already comfortable enough with me to shorten my name. Another mental game, I assume.
I hold my hand up to wave as I continue walking by. “Hold up for a minute,” Theo says, jogging over to me. Theo, with his perfectly styled hair and a genuine smile, makes his way over to me. “Got a minute?”
I check my watch, so he knows I don’t have much time, because I’ve come to learn that each time I end up in a conversation with one of these guys, there are several more in their footsteps, waiting for their turn to talk to me. “I have a minute, sure,” I tell him.
