Think Outside the Boss - Olivia Hayle Page 0,65

the situation. But I mean what I said. I understand. He’s a father. He has someone else to think about. While it’s not at all the same, I have my career and reputation, too. Neither one of us is entirely free to do as we please.

He leans against the doorway and watches me get dressed. “Joshua’s already met you,” he says.

“Yeah, I suppose so. Twice.”

“Right. Look, this is what we’ll do. I’ll call the electrician right away. Have him come over as soon as he can to look at your heater. It should be no more than a few hours.”

“That’s perfect, thank you.”

“Meanwhile, you join us in Central Park.”

My hands pause on the zipper of my jeans. “You’re sure?”

“He knows you and I are friends, and he’s met friends of mine before. I’ll introduce you as that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

I smile at him. “Absolutely. But only if you’re okay with it.”

“I am. But just because I want to make sure, and I’m always honest with him…” Tristan pulls out his phone and shoots me a chagrined smile as he raises it to his ear. “Joshua has a phone for emergencies. Not that it’s always charged, but it’s worth a—oh. Hi, kiddo.”

A pause.

“Yeah, I’m coming down with your ski pants and boots in a few minutes. Do you have your hat?”

I pull on my shirt and hunt through his bedroom for my socks.

“Good. I have a question for you. Do you remember my friend? The elephant lady?”

My smile comes unbidden at that, and I look over at where he’s standing. Tristan is smiling right back at me. “Yes, that’s her. What do you think about her meeting us in Central Park?”

I sit down on his bed and pull on my socks, still looking at him.

He chuckles. “Only if she’s okay with having a snowball fight. Okay, I think that’s fair.”

I pretend to lob a ball at Tristan’s head, and he ducks to the side, grinning wide. “Okay, kid. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

He clicks off the phone and leans back against the wall. “He thought it was a great idea.”

“That’s terrific,” I say. “But elephant lady?”

“Is it better than strait-laced?”

“No. You really need to work on your nicknames.”

Tristan catches me around the waist as I pass, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Sweetheart,” he says. “I like that one.”

Something flutters in my stomach. “So do I, handsome.”

Grinning, he pulls me along down the corridor. “Let’s go. We have snowballs to throw.”

21

Freddie

I close the door behind me. My studio is toasty compared to the cold New York air, courtesy of Tristan’s electrician and the newly installed heater. I kick off my boots and hang up my coat before I call him.

“You’re back home?” he asks.

“Yes,” I tell him. “And you’re overprotective.”

He sighs on the other line. “Walking home at night is still a risk.”

“A small one. I was just at the bar next to work. It takes me fifteen minutes to walk.”

“With your co-workers?”

“Yes.” I sit down on my bed and pull up my legs. “You know, after having worked with them for a few months, I really don’t think the mole is in my department.”

There’s a smile in his voice. “I’m not surprised you’d think that.”

“It’s not because I’m biased.”

“Of course it’s not.”

“I’ve really been paying attention, you know. To their schedules and what calls they take. How they talk about projects. More so, how they talk about you or Exciteur when we’re alone together. But all of them seem loyal to the bone.”

“That’s good to know,” he says.

I fluff up a pillow behind me. “I can be a great corporate spy. I don’t know why you doubt me.”

He laughs then, warm and rich, and the sound washes away the days since we’d last seen each other. Since our snowball fight on Saturday, we’d only managed one late-night meeting since, here in my apartment. It’s been nearly four days since then.

“I don’t doubt you, Freddie. I know better than that. But I think you bring out the best in people, including someone who might be leaking information.”

“Hmm.” I take a sip of my tea, contemplating his words. “Perhaps I’m the one who has to make the first move. If I start talking crap about the company and your takeover, they’ll feel more comfortable to let their traitor flag fly.”

He laughs again. “You’re that good of an actress?”

“I’m good at everything. Haven’t you heard?”

“I have,” he says. “The pitch you helped Eleanor deliver today has received raving reviews.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he echoes. “I heard