I do reach my hand out, placing it on her back, giving her a little rub. Round and round my hand goes, comforting the woman who only a short ten minutes ago I was dreading having to sit down with.
We’re not out of the woods yet; she hasn’t seen the notes I wrote then tucked away in the folder on her desk…
“I’m going to leave you alone—go home, relax. Take a hot bath and have a good cry.” Another one, apparently, because it looks like that’s all she’s been doing. “Come back tomorrow, and when you have the chance, look over these notes. I’ll have my secretary set up another meeting at the beginning of next week, and we’ll touch base then. In the meantime…” Pat, pat, pat on her back. I feel like I’m soothing a sleeping lion. “Pack it up and get out of here.”
“Thanks boss.” She sniffles, and I pause.
Whoa.
Did she just call me boss?
Holy hell. Is that an acknowledgment that I’m a higher-up? Finally?
She’s delirious and feeling vulnerable, Abbott—slow your roll. Bambi won’t remember on Monday, and she almost certainly isn’t going to repeat the phrase.
“Okay. I’m heading to my lunch date a little early. When I get back, I expect you to be gone.” I give her a mischievous grin, kissing her ass the tiniest bit, because honestly? Bambi Warner intimidates me.
No big secret there, I know.
The list of people who do isn’t long: my grandfather, my father, and Nan’s sister Auntie Dibs who has nine cats and is terrifying and intriguing.
And Bambi Warner, based on her palpable dislike for me.
If she’s going to be sweet and simpering, I’m going to take full advantage.
There are keys in the pocket of my slacks, and I give them a jingle. “Alright. I’m headed out.” I crane my head toward Ryan, making a show and pointing a finger at him, putting him in charge. “You make sure she gets out of here. Don’t you dare let her linger.”
Wink-wink at Bambi, who eats it all up.
I give them both a wave as I exit the office, letting out a breath and straightening my spine, running a pair of sweaty palms down the front of my pants.
They’re black and pleated, chosen with care, Brooks in mind. I didn’t want to wear a skirt and look like I was trying too hard for this mini date with Nan and my neighbor, but I didn’t want to look like I wasn’t trying either. If that makes sense.
My blouse is demure but sexy, high collar with a bow that ties at the neck. It shows nothing but is somehow alluring, at least in my opinion.
My hair is straight, falling in dark sheets down my back. Sleek. Glossy. Thick. Tucked behind my ears, simple diamond studs in my lobes.
Minimal makeup, but red lips.
It’s a gorgeous day, so I pass on grabbing a jacket but do make the quick jaunt to Sophia’s office one block over, one last time before I won’t see her over the weekend, and to fill her in on my afternoon activities.
My bestie oohs and aahs at my cherry red lips when I pucker them. “Them’s blow job lips,” she declares.
I deflect. “There’s no way I’d be any good at a blow job. I haven’t given one in ages.”
“Men don’t care. Brooks is going to see those lips and that’s all he’s going to be able to think about. Those lips, his dick.” Sophia clicks out a few lines into her spreadsheet. “Just watch—he won’t be able to peel his eyes away.”
“Blah blah,” I say for lack of anything better.
Is she right? Will he stare at my lips and think about blowies?
In the car on the way to the restaurant, I give my face another look, make sure my lips are on straight and not smudged.
It’s perfect, so I confidently exit the cab and step one heeled foot out onto the concrete curb, surprised when a masculine hand extends to steady me.
It’s Brooks.
He’s early. Really early.
“You’re early,” I say dumbly when he fails to release my hand.
“So are you.” He flicks the wrist on the opposite hand so the cuff of his shirt moves, giving him a view of his watch face. “By almost twenty minutes, you weirdo.”
“I had a meeting end before it began, so I thought I’d scout the place out.” Although knowing Nan, when she made the reservation, she chose a specific table.
“Grab a drink?” he asks, releasing my hand and tweaking his shirt, pulling the fabric over