She leaned over, keeping her voice to levels that were just between them. “And you don’t see this as a problem?”
Well, he hadn’t before, but he did now. “Not one I can’t overcome.” They’d just have to spend some more time together. Then he’d know what the Ginny of today looked for in romance. Dating her wasn’t a terrible prospect, and he dug into his burger, content to let the problem sit for the rest of the evening.
Chapter Thirteen
Ginny
Even after being at work for over a week, Ginny didn’t have an office to call her own. Her stepmom was still in the corner office, and since Ginny was trying to get her feet under her, she hadn’t put up a fuss about needing an actual desk. If she had to sit down, she took whatever chair was closest. If there was a meeting, she used the conference room.
She finally had a secretary, though—a man named Lyle with a long nose and ears like bananas. His desk was outside the corner office, but he followed her around as she moved from department to department relearning the ropes.
She ran her right hand over her bare ring finger, feeling the nakedness of it and pining for the beautiful ring they’d picked out the other day. Quinn had tucked it into his pocket and told her she’d have to wait until he proposed. Her mind kept wandering to the idea of a romantic evening at the top of the Space Needle or on a lighthouse. She didn’t care as long as he got down on one knee and said all the right things.
Her brain made her angry. It kept picturing the two of them dressed in their finest, dancing the night away while staring into each other’s eyes. And then there was the memory of their kiss. It hounded her at night, blocking sleep like an overdose of caffeine. If she could just get control of those thoughts, then she wouldn’t do something to embarrass herself. The possibilities for humiliation included—but were not limited to—throwing herself at him, blurting out how hot he was, being caught drooling over him, offering her lips for a taste test, and curling up beside him and refusing to leave.
In order to think about something else, she was headed into the R&D section of the company to meet with the department head, Bailor Jorgenson. She strode into his office as if she owned the place, which she did. Dad had told her that she should feel comfortable in every corner of the building. So far, the execs were forthcoming with information and easy to talk to. Maybe Jillian hadn’t painted her as the Wicked Witch.
Bailor sat behind his desk, looking every bit the bulldog with heavy jowls that wiggled when he moved and a flat mouth. His round head sat atop his body without the apparent help of a neck, though he had to have one there somewhere.
Virginia held out her hand and reintroduced herself. This doing things twice was tiresome. From this point on, she’d expect people to know who she was, and if they didn’t, they’d figure it out quickly.
“I’d like to see the latest on the weight loss supplement that was presented in the meeting last week. Slim ’n’ Fit, I believe.” She took the seat across his desk without being offered the chair.
“You’re not cleared for that information,” he grumbled.
“Excuse me?” Ginny tipped her head his way, thinking she must have heard him wrong.
He glared, his beady dark eyes glassy in the overhead lights. “It’s classified.”
Ginny suppressed the indignation. “What makes you think I don’t have clearance?” She had clearance, all right. She had clearance to toss him out on his flat backside.
“Jillian. You’re not allowed to poke your nose into certain projects.”
“I see.” Her eyebrows climbed her forehead.I’m not allowed?The words brought on a wave of anger that she couldn’t hold back. Still, she wasn’t going to take it out on this guy—even if he did need to understand a few things. The first of which was that loyalty to her stepmother wasn’t going to get him anywhere with this company. “How long have you worked here, Bailor?”
His lip curled. “Seven years.”
She got to her feet. “Then you moved here from another company?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think they’ll take you back?” He sputtered, and she leaned across the desk. “You should think long and hard about who you try to block from information regarding the research done in my company.”
A line of perspiration appeared on his forehead. He snatched a tissue and dabbed it away. “I was told being here was a passing fancy for you and you’d be gone. There are company secrets behind those doors.” He pointed out the window of his office, which faced the doors to the laboratory.
She nodded sagely. “Consider what I said. I’m not here to play games.” She flipped on her heel and rounded the doorframe before she noticed Lyle dogging her steps. She flexed her fingers and rolled out her shoulders.
“You’re unhappy.” He pushed the call button for the elevator.
“Darn right I’m unhappy.”
He popped his phone out of the case, put it back in, and repeated the motion several times.
“Just say it,” she prompted him.
“What did you expect?”
“Explain that.” She boarded the elevator and pushed the button for the top floor.
