“His dad,” I murmur, sucking in a breath once I realize I said it out loud. “I mean?—”
“I know all about it,” she assures me.
“Fuck, sorry, I guess pregnancy brain is in full swing.”
“Well, keep that little tidbit to yourself.” Livy checks her watch. “Shit. Speaking of healthcare, I’m supposed to meet with the nurses’ union in half an hour.” She helps me to my feet and brings me in for a tight hug. “I’ll have someone run interference for you today, but you won’t be able to hide from him forever.”
With a deep breath, we break apart and I nod, then I leave her office. As I’m checking my notifications, I’m dodging most people in my small field of vision, several of them staying out of my way as I’m typing out a reply to Paulette, our Director of Operations. We have a meeting later to discuss upcoming travel to the Central Valley, expanding Olivia’s in-person conversations with education departments. I can’t ask her outright if Jamie will be coming, but I’m hoping she can send me a list of everyone she’s planning to arrange transportation for.
There’s a pair of shoes not moving—black Oxfords. I stop in my tracks and trail my eyes up to see who is blocking my path, meeting dark blue eyes framed by slutty little glasses.
“Isaac!” I fling my arms around my old friend, excited he’s finally here for Livy; he wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow, and she’ll be so excited to see him. “When did you get here? I would’ve sent a car or Westley.”
“No need to waste tax-payer dollars.” He squeezes me tighter, then releases me. “I wanted to surprise my girl and to show James around on his first day.”
I freeze, then peer around Isaac. “Oh. Right.” Cheeks hot, I swipe at nonexistent wrinkles on my blazer. “Well, it will definitely be a surprise.”
Braving the inevitably awkward moment, I finally get a good look at Jamie. He’s wearing a navy suit with a white button-down, hiding all of his tattoos, except a few that peek out from his shirt collar. I unconsciously draw my lips into my mouth to wet them. I hate how stupidly handsome he is.
I’ve been staring entirely too long and offer my hand. “It’s good to see you again, Jamie—James.” As he takes it, my heart stops and I forget how to breathe. He keeps a firm grip, which I always appreciate when men shake my hand—I’m no delicate flower—but as my eyes fall to our joined hands, I can’t help remembering where his have been. I quickly pull back, in desperate need to shove away any positive feelings about a man who basically slept his way to the top. “Governor Harris has informed me that we’ll be meeting tomorrow morning once you’ve settled in. If you’ll excuse me, I’m running a little behind for an appointment. It was wonderful seeing you both.”
I rush off before I can make a fool of myself any more than I already have. In case he happens to watch me walk away, I add a little sway in my step, keeping a steady rhythm of my heels clicking on the tile. There’s no harm in letting him want what he can’t have.
As I’m stepping into my office, I’m finally free to relax, except the door doesn’t click behind me. Another two steps in, there’s still no satisfying snap. I glance over my shoulder, finding Jamie holding the door open and leaning against the frame, arms folded over his chest.
“I haven’t seen you in a month and all I get is a handshake?”
“Why are you here?” I seethe, spinning in place but resist the urge to slap him… or drag him inside to climb him like a damn tree.
“I told you I had plans to visit and potentially move. The timeline shifted after everything happened with Isaac. Why haven’t you returned my calls?”
Glancing down to my hand still holding my phone, I quietly admit, “I blocked you.”
Jamie pushes off the doorframe and takes a step closer, then a second. I mirror the movement, keeping space between us. The door finally closes, startling me, and my heart begins pounding against my ribcage. My anger is quickly replaced with fear—not of him, but of how if he dares to touch me, kiss me, I’m not sure I’m strong enough to say no.
“You should probably unblock me, since we’ll be working together.”
“You’re not going to report to me,” I blurt. After a brief moment of collecting myself, I explain, “I… I can’t have you working under me.”
“If I remember correctly, I do great work under you.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, a stupid, satisfied smirk tilting his lips.
“Past tense,” I remind.
“Not a chance,abayarde.But I’ll quit today if it means you’ll have dinner with me later.”
At hearing him call me that, I shift my hand away, not wanting him to see the impulsive tattoo on my finger that I got when I returned from Canada. I thought it would be a harmless way to remember the week we had together. It isn’t fully healed, so I can’t use concealer on it yet. I’ll need to use a bandage or tattoo-safe tape on it ASAP. But really, I should just look into getting it removed like I did my tramp stamp years ago.
Jamie quitting would be easy, but Livy needs him. I reluctantly disagree, “No. You don’t need to quit.”
“But you’ll have dinner with me?”
“Also, no.”
He takes a step closer. This time, I remain rooted in place, squaring my shoulders. “Coffee?” he offers, but it comes out too sultry for my liking.
“No.”
Another step. “Ah, avoiding caffeine now?”
