“No, I never said that. I told you I could be objective, and I can. Was. Am. Whatever.” She waved a hand and went back to watching the show.
He pressed his lips together and gestured to the monitor. “I was clear about assigning the story.”
She glanced away from the screen to him, her forehead crinkled. “Will, you’re the one who pointed out you’re not my boss. You can’t micromanage my job. I’m the assignment editor, I assigned the story.”
“To yourself.” His frustration vibrated in the air around them.
“Yeah.”
“You’re arguing on a technicality?” He went silent, that ticking-time-bomb pulse in his forehead rapidly leading toward detonation.
She didn’t respond.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “If you were any other staff, pulling a stunt like this, you’d be fired for not following directions from corporate.”
She drew a harsh breath. “You haven’t even seen the story. Do you not trust me to do a good job?”
They stared at each other a beat. Neither backing down.
“You’re not corporate. Not yet, anyway.” She glanced away, the distance between them growing by the second.
“HowcanI trust you, Luce? You disregarded everything I said.” His words were raw with intensity.
Any other time the hurt on her face would’ve made him backtrack. She’d blatantly gone against his wishes, what was he supposed to say?
“You did whatever you wanted anyway.” Defeat was a bitter friend of his.
“As you pointed out many times, you’re not my boss yet. Once you are, we agreed not to continue…us.” She pressed her palm against his bare chest, branding him.
He flinched. What they had meant nothing? He’d been sure once he showed her how good they’d be together she’d change her mind.
“I’m losing you before we ever even got a real chance, aren’t I?” He grabbed the hand she’d placed on his chest and squeezed.
“That’s not fair.”
“Keeping work at work is a good idea. Let’s talk about this when we both have pants on. Stick to your producer and editor duties. We’ll work this out.” Once he figured out what the hell he was doing as a manager of Crestone.
“You can’t pull me from reporting.” Her beat-down puppy expression nearly did him in. Nearly.
“Just until we can talk in the office. What we have isn’t just going to go away. We’ll sort out a solution for the work stuff, but we’ll do it at the office.” His gaze trailed over her.
Somehow they’d figure out how to keep work separate. They could do it and they could be together. He’d use every morsel of time they had together to prove it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You ready for the big day?” Lucy came to the kitchen to find Will absorbed in a pile of files, his forehead creased in concentration. The sun wasn’t even up yet.
He frowned and slid his thumb across the screen of his phone. “I am.”
Today, well, today was back to work. Back to reality. Officially their last day together.
She swallowed the massive lump in her throat.
Her fingers itched to smooth the lines along his forehead. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
Around one that morning he’d left the bed and hadn’t returned.
“No. Too much on my mind.” He had made a pot of coffee sometime in the night. She melted into a puddle of caffeinated gratitude.
