I should really defend the accusation, but I might struggle in the debate because the truth would trickle in.
“Really. It’s no big deal. Conversation closed.”
I told Savannah to clear my calendar for the rest of the day, but I want to return only after she’s gone. I can’t risk running into her. I don’t want to see her today. That’s another problem. She has a strong work ethic for her age and isn’t a 9-to-5 worker; she’ll stay until the job is done.
I admit I need to fine-tune my avoidance tactic around her.
The next morning,I arrive late at the office. I wanted to take a call from home to discuss a few new personal stock options. It seemed easier to take the 8 AM call when at home to be on time for the day's stock market opening.
Maybe I should’ve braced myself. When I step off theelevator and see red roses and a gift box on Savannah’s desk, I dread our meeting ahead.
“Good morning, Julian.” She smiles brightly as she welcomes me. She even stands up as if there is some protocol and I’m the royal highness… which, for this building, maybe isn’t far off.
I don’t return her look and simply keep my face stoic, even when I stop in front of her desk. “Savannah,” I say simply while my eyes attempt to inspect the gift. “Humor me. Who sent me flowers?”
Her shoulders puff out, and her elated look doesn’t melt even a tad. “They’re not for you. Someone sent them to me.”
My body clenches. Instantly. I don’t do jealousy, but fury fills me that some man dared to sendmyassistant gifts after a date, or maybe it’s her boyfriend. Does she have a boyfriend? No. She has never once mentioned one nor brought anyone to the office holiday party, which should have been a warning sign that I was paying too much attention.
“You can throw them away. I hate flowers and don’t want them on your desk or as the first thing people see when they walk onto my floor.”
Now her smile wilts. “Right.” Her T is tight. “We are going straight for the devil’s den aesthetic.”
My jaw slides to the side because I want to hide that I might actually find that quip funny.
“They better be gone,” I firmly reiterate before I storm into my office, slam the door behind me, and zip to my desk to fall into my seat.
Ah shit, not the best way to start my day. She’s probably in the staff room poisoning my power bar, but then my eyes drop—she already left me one. The correct flavor, too.
A few minutes later, I hear her soft knock and tell her tocome in. I’m a professional, so I will treat the day normally. One deep breath in and… fail.
Savannah opens the door, takes a few steps, with her hip out and her hand finding a home on her green satin dress. “The flowers are in the break room. Perhaps somebody will appreciate beautiful roses and a carrot cake that says congratulations.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Perfect.”
“Now I have to tell Elodie that her present nearly found a home in the trash.”
A woman’s name eases me slightly, and I know Elodie works for me. “Humor me. Is it your birthday?”
She shakes her head and walks farther into my office before sitting in front of my desk and elegantly crossing one knee over the other to ensure no skin gets to taunt me.
“I won a bet on how many assistants you would fire this month, and she sent me condolence flowers for my new role within the organization.” She smiles contritely at me.
I roll my eyes because I need to find a way to knock the sass out of her. “Won’t she have a fun performance review.” I’m joking, yet no humor finds my voice.
Savannah sighs and looks down at her notebook. “Anyhow, your new coffee machine is up and running, and you have a big day of afternoon meetings since yesterday you decided to play hooky.” She pretends to write, but her paper remains blank.
Got her.
It did bother her.
A winning smirk stretches on my face. “Tell me, what do you think I did yesterday that involves your complete discretion?”
Her mouth parts open, but no words follow.
“Hmm.” I stand and stride in the direction of my coffeemachine on the table against the wall. “You know, sometimes we meet friends from out of town. For example, one who is staying in a hotel, and the room wasn’t even needed, instead requested just for kicks.”
I glance over my shoulder to see that her face falls and her beautiful berry-colored lips form an O. Perfect form. A gift to look at. Should I throw logic out the door?
