‘You really think that was some clandestine tryst?’ Is he annoyed or disappointed? It’s really hard to tell. ‘I can’t tell if you think I’m that feckless or if you’re just enjoying dangling my nuts above a vise.’
Maybe we’re both hard to read.
‘I guess you’ll never know,’ I answer flippantly. Maybe I should suggest he takes an office poll because I’m pretty sure the verdict would be unanimous.
The question: Archer Powell, man slut or not?
The result the ballot papers would record: Hell to the yes, but we love him anyway!
Ugh!
‘Hand on my heart,’ he says as he straightens and does just that, ‘Clara told me she wanted to talk about the role of an analyst, business versus marketing, and whether getting her master’s degree before coming to work for her dear old dad would be beneficial. She could end up being my boss in a few years. Do you really think I would want to be in that position?’
‘Archer—’
‘Call me Arch. Or Archie.’
‘Why ever would I do that?’
‘Because that’s what my friends call me.’
‘Archer.’I draw out his name with a perverse sense of glee. ‘I’m not sure any woman can claim to know what a man thinks.’ My exhilaration is followed by a stab of something unfamiliar as his brow creases. I try to ignore that poke of anxiety that I’m reading the signals wrong and open my laptop again as something to concentrate on. Am I currently bantering with the office heartthrob or making an enemy of him?
‘Men are simple creatures and our thoughts few.’
‘ThatI can believe,’ I murmur as I wonder if for a second time I’m imagining the fleeting brush of his gaze. ‘I can also believe you wouldn’t want a female boss.’
‘And your assumption would be wrong. Again. I’ve had lots of experience taking directions from women. I do it very, very well . . .’ he promises, I mean, replies.
What is wrong with me?I wonder, as my colour rushes to my cheeks. It’s not as though his remark was innuendo-filled; it avoided the cheap answer of him being proficient and/or enjoying working under women. He’s not flirting with me, and I’m certainly not flirting with him. I wouldn’t know where to start.
‘But I’m also pretty sensible, and I’m not interested in being shafted. I would never mess around with Clara—’
I’m not sure whether it’s the wordshafted,but I suddenly recall what it was I was looking at on my laptop before Archer turned up. My gaze flicks down, the colour in my cheeks deepening as I press it closed. Or maybe slam it again.
‘—as well as the potential for being seriously career limiting, because . . . What are you watching over there?’ From serious to curious, he contorts his long frame over my desk, reaching as though to turn my laptop to face him.
‘That’s private,’ I protest rather primly, somehow squashing his fingers between the screen and the keyboard as I snatch it away.
‘Oh, vicious.’ As he brings his fingers to his pouty mouth, that very particular glint in his eye is back. It’s a look that echoes my dream, a look that has a very visceral effect on my body. But then his words sink in, albeit somewhat belatedly.
‘Vicious? What do you mean vicious?’ I reply indignantly. ‘I’m not vicious, or anything else horrible for that matter.’
‘I didn’t say you were horrible. In fact, I appreciate the whole cool, aloof thing you’ve got going on. And I have to say, I appreciate it a whole lot more now that I’m not viewing it from the other side of the meeting room.’
‘I really have no idea what you’re talking about.’ I’m not mean. I’m nice. At least, I try to be. But something about him just rubs me up the wrong way. I can’t quite put my finger on why, but I just know being around him brings out the worst in me.
‘C’mon, you’ve had nothing but disdain for me. Up until last night, at least.’
‘I amnotaloof or disdainful or vicious. I’m just shy.’ And awkward—the kind of awkward that makes me so self-conscious, I’d rather not speak to people I don’t know at all. ‘I’m the one who brought cupcakes into the office on my birthday, remember? Meanwhile,youdidn’t even know that was a thing!’
Who’s unfriendly now, eh? Answer me that!
‘I’m not sure a shy girl would be giving me such a hard time.’
‘I think the word you’re looking for iswoman.’ Grrr.
‘Oh, you’re definitely that.’ This time, I absolutely see his gaze flicking over me with the sort of appreciation that makes my heart knock against my ribcage.
