you thought less about what other people think, you’d enjoy yourself as much as your husband.
Sincerely,
Dr. Love
Chapter Four
Zoey
I spend the afternoon being tortured. With Nancy gone, I’m forced to take over her job. Which wouldn’t be so bad—I can answer phone calls and check emails from her desk.
No, it’s the proximity to Gavin, who seems to enjoy working with his door open, directly in my line of sight. He moves, and my eyes automatically flick to him. Half the time, he’s looking at me. Some of the time, he’s smiling as he does so. Smiling.
What does that mean?!
I should have chosen a short-sleeved blouse today. Or used that clinical-strength deodorant Harper uses before she goes to the gym. Because I’m feeling positively swampy around the armpit area. When Gavin leaves his office briefly later, I stand over the air-conditioning vents, shaking out my shirt to get some circulation flowing up in there.
If that weren’t bad enough, I still haven’t turned in my letter of resignation. It’s practically burning a hole in the leather bag Dad bought me when Gavin officially hired me here. I keep staring down at it, telling myself that I’ll do it by the next hour and the next. The hours continue to pass. My letter stays in my bag.
You big chicken, I scold myself. But I swear, I’ll do it by five. I will.
I call Nancy later on to check on her, a little concerned when I get her voicemail. She could be sleeping, but I can’t help but worry. I don’t know much about her, other than the fact that Gavin treats her a little more like a grandmother than his assistant.
I walk to Gavin’s office doorway. He’s smiling down at his phone. I hate his smile. It’s impossible to get anything done when I look at it. And who’s putting that smile on his face? My jealousy is immediate, intense, and totally out-of-line.
I clear my throat. “Gavin?”
His eyes meet mine, and if this were a movie, there would be sparks or some kind of electricity stretching between us. But this is real life, and I’m sure the only sparks are flying from my direction to his. Desperate, one-sided sparks.
“Have you spoken with Nancy? I’m a little worried. I called, but she didn’t answer.”
He frowns, and even that look is sexy on him. “I haven’t. That’s sweet that you checked on her.”
Sweet. He thinks I’m sweet. I swallow. “Does she have family? Someone to check in on her?”
Gavin’s face softens, and I feel like I just won some kind of prize for caring about Nancy. “Not here. I don’t have much on my schedule for the rest of the afternoon, do I?”
I don’t even have to check the calendar. “You’ve got that video conference in half an hour, but otherwise, no.”
“Great. I’ll cut out a bit early so I can check on her. Can you let everyone know and handle all the calls?”
“Sounds good.”
Before Gavin moves back to his office, he has his phone out again, that same smile on this face. I’ve got a mini catalogue of his smiles: the fake one that doesn’t reach his eyes, the twitching-lips one where he’s trying not to laugh at something, the genuine one mostly reserved for Nancy, and a few times, for me.
This one? It’s genuine. It’s big and broad and makes the fine lines around his eyes crinkle in a delicious way.
I want to be the one making him smile like that.
My jealousy continues to flare with the intensity of a forest fire. Because someone other than me is putting that look on Gavin’s face. There is no world in which I have the right to be jealous of someone else making Gavin smile. I should be happy for him. Good for him.
But I want to punch whoever she is right in the throat. And then take her place as the person who makes him smile like that.
I send an email letting the office know Gavin will be gone after four, then set up everything for his conference call. Five minutes before it should start, I head to the break room to make him a decaf coffee, something Nancy usually does for him in the afternoons. Not that I’ve paid close attention to that fact, or the fact that he drinks it black. I’m totally not cataloguing every detail I can about Gavin.
Feeling nervous excitement pinging through my body like a pinball, I walk through his office door, then immediately halt as I realize he’s