an affectionate drunk.”
His head lifts from my shoulder. “I’m not drunk, you are.”
“Want more?” Fred asks. “I’m done. All the sugar is making my stomach feel funny and I’m tired.” She stifles a yawn.
“Amateur,” Carson teases and holds out his martini glass. “Yes, please.” Once she’s refilled his glass, he puts his head back on my shoulder, spilling some of the drink on my pants. He doesn’t notice. “I’m sorry about the whole Guy trying to make you move thing. But I think he really likes you, it’s just his businesses always come first. He’s not the best at, you know, being a normal human.”
“Really? He pranked me.”
His head lifts again. “What?”
“He put eggs in my apron.”
“No.” He leans further back to focus on my face, his expression a mixture of confusion and shock. “He would never.”
“He did,” Fred confirms. “I saw it. Well, the aftermath. They were rubbing faces.”
He gasps and shoves me in the shoulder. “You rubbed faces with Guy? Why are you just now telling me this?”
“We haven’t seen you since then.” Fred narrows her eyes at him.
“He wanted to lay low for a few days. He specifically told me not to come over here anymore or do any more espionage. I thought it was because he had a plan but . . .” He frowns in thought.
Fred and I meet eyes. She nods and then kicks Carson with her foot. “We wanted to get him back, for the pranking.”
His eyes dart from Fred to me and then back again. “What? You want me to help you?”
“I don’t know,” I say before Fred can jump in with an emphatic affirmative. “Would you be willing to get involved? We don’t want you to get in any kind of trouble.”
He purses his lips in thought, and then he breaks into a grin. “One more martini and one more cupcake, and I’ll do whatever you want.”
Fred pulls a box from the cupboard behind her. “Good, because Scarlett wants into his office.”
“Are you sure you won’t get fired for this?”
Decadence is dark and quiet; everyone has gone home for the night as we pass through the stainless-steel kitchen, gleaming in the emergency lights.
I’m carrying the box of goodies because Fred went home. Jack came and picked her up since the drinks went straight to her head.
“He won’t fire me. He needs me too much. Besides, I think this is good for him,” Carson says. “You’re not doing anything mean or detrimental to his business, so he’ll survive. You should have seen him the past couple of days. He’s been…different.”
“What do you mean?”
“He hasn’t yelled at anyone. At all. The staff is so much happier. The face rubbing with you is the only thing that’s changed. It’s the only explanation.”
He flicks on a light in the hall, leading me down a stark white hallway.
“Have you ever seen him smile? Like a big smile?” I ask.
Carson chuckles, turning us into an alcove with a small desk and filing cabinets. There’s a door leading to what must be Guy’s office. Carson stops in front of the door. “Um, that’s cute, honey, but he doesn’t smile.”
“But he does.”
“He does not.”
I adjust my grip on the box of goodies in my arms. “He smiled at me.”
Carson puts a hand on his hip. “I have worked for the man for five years and told him every snarky joke I could come up with, and I’m hilarious. You must be lying.”
“I’m not. He has a dimple.”
He stares at me in shocked silence for so long, I put the box down at my feet. Finally, he nods and purses his lips. “See. I knew it. He needs you.”
I stop him. “Oh no, it’s not like that.”
He rolls his eyes and fumbles with putting his key in the door. “You can’t tell me you made him smile and then expect me to believe it doesn’t mean something.”
“He hates me.”
“Fine, maybe it’s not like true loooove,” he pushes open the door, “but he likes people who stand up to him and won’t let them run all over him.”
“He has you.”
“I am not enough. And you have better hair. And boobs. Really, the only people he lets talk to him like that are me and his sisters.” He waves a hand. “Enough of that, here we go.” He flicks the lights on.
I don’t know what I expected of Guy’s office, but in my deepest imaginings I don’t think I could have come up with something so bland and sterile. It’s like a