have a conversation.”
A day. Why did people always think it was more intimidating to set ominous deadlines by the hour? I nodded. “Can I go?”
He stuck his arm toward the door and dipped his chin, never taking his eyes from mine.
I wish I could say I walked from his office in a calm, controlled way—that I showed my spirit by holding my head high and keeping it together. But it took everything I had to hold back tears. I walked out of there as fast as I could and shut the door to my office as soon as I was inside. I sank down on the ground and buried my head in my hands.
I was an idiot to think I could work for Nick and pretend it was a normal job. Even as driven as I was, I’d never have been so desperate to prove myself that I would’ve broken into my boss’s office to do it. I’d also never take a little scolding so personally. My past with him was clouding my judgment. And now . . .
My fingertips ran over the note in my hand. Now I didn’t even have a reason to hate the old Nick. After all this time, I’d been the idiot. I’d given him the note and waited for him to come talk to me about it. Instead, he’d avoided me for three days and eventually asked out Kira. The poem was full of references that he would’ve known had to be from me if he had half a brain, so I’d assumed the worst. I’d thought he was asking Kira out to shut me down in some cowardly, nonconfrontational way. Then I’d decided it was even more sinister than that. I’d thought he was laughing about the poem behind my back, and asking Kira out had been a calculated stab in the back.
I shook my head as I turned the folded-up paper over in my hands. It was hard to believe that I’d wound up sitting right where I was today because of a childish decision to write him an anonymous poem instead of simply talking to him about the way I felt. Things might have been different if I’d just had the guts to sign the thing, but I’d told myself I was making it so obvious that I didn’t have to.
Idiot.
There was a soft knock at my door.
I stood and rubbed at my eyes, trying to clear any evidence of the tears that had been welling up without ruining my makeup. I opened the door and did my best to look annoyed. “Has it already been twenty-four hours?”
“I wanted to . . .” Nick blew out a long breath. He looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable with his hands in his pockets and his eyes down. “Can I come in?”
“You own the building. I’m pretty sure you can do what you want in here.”
His eyes flickered up at that. The moment I saw his face, I knew his mind had taken my comment to a dirty place. I blushed, even though I hadn’t been trying to imply anything.
“Within reason,” I added.
Nick didn’t say anything as he slid past me, crop-dusting me with that intoxicating smell of his. He planted his hands on the chair in front of my desk and hung his head. “I’m trying my best to keep things professional. If it ever seems like I’m being more of a dick to you because we have a past, I want you to say something.”
That was what this was about? I almost felt disappointed. “I think getting pissed that I broke into your office was a reasonable reaction, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He nodded but still didn’t turn to look at me. “Actually, what I wanted to say was that I booked cabins for the entire company at a resort out west called Julian Ridge.” He finally stood up, straightened, and regained his ability to look me in the eyes. “It’s an all-inclusive kind of thing. Racquetball courts, tennis courts, an indoor and outdoor pool, horseback riding, bowling, shopping, a free movie theater, and even buses that’ll shuttle you around the grounds, running all day and night.”
“Uh . . . okay.”
“I got us neighboring cabins so it’ll be easier to go over our findings during the trip.”
“Our findings?” I asked. Why was my stupid heart beating so fast? Logically, I already understood what he was getting at. He’d mentioned that people were often the reason a company failed. It was why he’d thrown