his lips and he puts his hand on my thigh. “Do you now?”
“Yes, I like to see you happy.” I feel like there is more behind his and Mr. Vance’s relationship than he is telling me, but for now I am not going to push it.
“I am happy. Happier than I thought I would be . . . ever,” he adds.
“What has gotten into you? You’re getting soft on me,” I tease and he chuckles.
“I can knock over a few tables, bloody a few noses to remind you,” he says and I push my shoulder into his.
“No, thanks.” I giggle.
Our food arrives and I thank the waitress. The food looks amazing, and I inhale the great aromas before taking a bite. Hardin ordered us some sort of ravioli, and it’s delicious.
“Good, huh?” he brags and fills his mouth with food. I nod and do the same.
After we’re finished, Hardin and I bicker about who is going to pay for lunch, but he ends up winning.
“You can pay me back later.” He winks behind the waitress’s back.
When we walk back to VP, Hardin follows me inside. “You’re coming up?” I ask him.
“Yeah, I wanted to see your office, then I will go. Promise.”
“Deal,” I tell him and we step onto the elevator. When we reach the top floor I give him his jacket back and he shrugs it on. My eyes widen at how hot he looks in the leather.
“Hey, it’s you again.” The guy in the navy suit says as we walk down the hall.
“And it’s you again.” I smile.
His eyes dart to Hardin, who introduces himself.
“Nice to meet you. My name is Trevor; I work in finance.” He give a little wave, then says, “Well, see you around,” and walks away.
When we walk into my office Hardin grabs my wrist and turns me to face him. “What the hell was that?” he spits out.
Is he joking? I look down at my wrist in his hand and take that as a no. His grip isn’t tight, but it holds me in place.
“What?”
“That guy?”
“What about him? I just met him this morning in the elevator.” I pull my wrist away.
“It didn’t seem like you just met; the two of you were just flirting in front of me.”
I can’t help it, but I let out a laugh that’s more like a bark. “What? You’re insane if you think that was flirting. I was being polite and so was he. Why would I flirt with him?” I try to keep my voice down. Causing a scene will not be good for me.
“Why wouldn’t you? He was nice and clean-cut, suit and all,” Hardin says.
I realize that he seems more hurt and worried than angry. My instincts tell me to cuss him out and tell him to get the hell out, but I decide to take a different approach. Just like when he was breaking things at his father’s house.
“Is that what you think? That I want someone like him, someone unlike you?” I ask in a gentle voice.
Hardin opens his eyes wide, taken aback. I know he expected me to blow up at him, but this change of pace slows him down and he contemplates what to say next. “I don’t know . . . maybe.” His eyes meet mine.
“Well, you’re wrong, as usual.” I smile. I need to talk to him about this later, but my need to make sure he knows he has nothing to worry about overpowers my need to correct him.
“I am sorry if you think I was flirting with him, but I wasn’t. I wouldn’t do that to you,” I assure him. His eyes soften and I bring my hand up to his cheek. How can one person be so strong yet so weak?
“I . . . Okay,” he says.
I laugh and caress his cheek. I love catching him off guard. “What is he, when I have you?”
His eyes flutter and he finally smiles. I am relieved that I am learning how to disengage the bomb that is Hardin. “I love you,” he says and presses his lips to mine. “I am sorry for blowing up like that.”
“I accept your apology; now let me show you my office!” I say in a cheery voice.
“I don’t deserve you,” he says quietly, too quietly. I choose to ignore it and keep my uplifting attitude.
“So what do you think?” I beam.
He chuckles and listens intently as I show him every detail, every book on the shelf and the empty picture frame