“I didn’t say anything about tackling, and she doesn’t look so nice.”
“That means she has discernment. Unlike other people, she doesn’t fall for your Euro charm bullshit.”
A slow smile crept across my face. “Did you admit I have charm?”
“Bullshitcharm. Don’t cherry-pick my words.” Maya’s cheeks appeared a shade redder than usual as she opened her laptop. “Now stop talking and start working. I don’t have all day.”
I chuckled, but I acquiesced and flipped open the folder she’d handed me. She’d printed out my response to her proposal and given me notes on my notes. Typical.
I skimmed them without analyzing every comment the way I would if she were anyone else. I didn’t need to micromanage her; I trusted her to get things right on her own.
That said, we did have a ton of work to do. A project of this magnitude involved a thousand moving parts, and our tight timeline meant we both needed to be at the top of our game.
“We need a big marquee chef to handle the recipes and be the face of this collaboration,” I said. “I emailed you some names. If you don’t have any objections, I’ll start reaching out to see if anyof them are interested.”
“Perfect. I’ll draft the press release and leave a placeholder for their name and bio.” Maya highlighted something in her notebook. “Can you finalize it by next week?”
“Of course.” It would take some arm-twisting, but the Laurent name went far in the culinary world.
We worked quietly for a while, our conversation lapsing into the scratch of pen on paper and the rhythmic clacking of our keyboards.
The library bustled with activity, but the noise seemed muted somehow, the other patrons barely noticeable despite their proximity to us. It was as if an invisible bubble insulated us from the rest of the room.
I glanced at Maya, who was typing furiously on her computer. Light streamed in through the stained-glass windows behind her, settling softly on her hair and highlighting the stubborn set of her mouth. A tiny crease dug in between her brows, and she muttered something under her breath as she paused typing to underline a sentence in her notebook.
We hadn’t worked side by side like this since college, when we’d kept getting thrown into group projects together. We’d pulled countless all-nighters in the library, both of us refusing to be the one to bail first, but I’d forgotten how laser-focused she got. How she radiated intensity, and how she tackled every task with a military-grade precision that left little room for error.
I’d made a game out of trying to distract her. I’d succeeded a number of times, but I’d kept those victories to myself. They were a secret indulgence, and I hoarded them the way dragons hoarded treasure, away from the prying eyes of those who wouldn’t understand.
Sometimes, I didn’t understand either.
“If you stare any harder, I’ll have to start charging you,” Mayasaid without looking up from her screen. “I’m not here for your entertainment.”
I hadn’t said a word, and I’d already distracted her.One point for Team Laurent.
I suppressed a smile. “Does my attention make you uncomfortable?”
“Everything about you makes me uncomfortable.”
“Yet here we are,” I drawled, taking great delight in the subtle flare of her nostrils.Two points for Team Laurent.
“Only because we have to be.” Her eyes flicked up to meet mine. They were dark with exasperation. “Have you looked at the draft I sent you yet? I’m meeting someone downtown in an hour, so I need to leave soon.”
“Yes. It’s fine.”
“Fine?” Maya looked like I’d told her she had a terminal disease and only two weeks left to live. “Our marketing timeline can’t befine. It has to be perfect. What—”
“Who are you meeting later?” I interrupted. “Killian?”
Maybe Xavier had finally gotten a hold of the elusive bachelor and introduced them after I’d left the Vault. Killian did love his downtown haunts, though he was typically allergic to Monday-night gatherings unless they involved a bottle of whiskey, a pair of supermodels, and a threesome.
Maya gave me a strange look. “Killian Katrakis? Why would I be meeting with him?”
A twinge of heat crept over my cheeks.“No reason,” I said, silently kicking myself for the slip-up. Why thefuckwas I bringing up Killian first? “But I talked to him earlier, and he said he had a meeting downtown tonight too.”
Fortunately, she was too distracted by my lukewarm assessment of her marketing plan to notice my blatant lie.
“What’s wrong with the timeline?” She flipped furiouslythrough her notebook. “I guess we can move the ad campaign up a month, but if we do it too early, it’ll lose steam—”
