by Lisa Lace
The third is about to speak, but can only let out a squeak when she sees the little girl climbing on top of the table to march from one end to the other.
I laugh out loud and clap my hands. This little girl, as small as she is, has three uptight women losing their minds. They look at me in irritation, but I ignore them because the little girl catches my eye and gives me the naughtiest, yet most innocent look. I just can’t get enough. She is adorable and just what I need to end the week on a high note.
“Hi, I’m Laura. Can I help you down from there?” I ask her. I’m not expecting her to say yes. She looks like she’s having far too much fun giving these other women hell.
She assesses me carefully with her hands on her hips. I take a moment to appreciate her attire. She’s wearing a pink bow in her hair, pink cowgirl boots, purple tights, a light blue leotard with a ninja emblazoned on it, and a tutu with colorful pom-poms dancing around inside of it.
“Nice outfit. I wish I could have you pick my outfits. I don’t have anything quite as colorful,” I tell her woefully.
She brightens and throws herself on her bottom to scoot to the edge. Her chubby legs dangle off the table for a moment before she takes my hand and jumps off. “I pick all my outfits,” she boasts proudly.
“I can see that. I think grown-ups pick a lot of boring outfits. What do you think?” We both look at the other women, who wear uniform-like black skirts and white tops, except one receptionist, who is wearing a pale pink top.
The little girl wrinkles her nose. “Yeah,” she agrees. She turns her attention towards my outfit, and I cringe a little.
“Not that good either, huh?” I ask her. For some reason, I desperately want her approval.
“No, but you just need something extra,” she says with a hand on my shoulder. She removes her headband and offers it to me. “You can borrow this!” She thrusts it into my hand and waits expectantly.
I’m unprepared for this and see the three other women watching me. Not one to disappoint, I don the headband carefully. She gestures for me to kneel down, so I do. She adjusts the headband to suit her taste and steps back to admire her handiwork. “Perfect.” She grins.
I smile back. “I have you to thank for it. What’s your name, by the way?”
“Bella,” she says, rising on her toes. “Actually, it’s Isabella, but my daddy only calls me that when he gets upset.”
“Ah, I see.” I stand up, and Bella darts past me. “Hey, wait—” My words die on my lips when I see Maxwell stoop down to pick up the little girl.
“Daddy!” She squeals and wraps her arms around his neck, planting kisses all over his face.
“Isabella, were you giving these ladies a hard time?” He sounds stern, but I can hear the love in his voice.
“No, Daddy.” Bella lowers her eyes to the floor. “I was just running, and then I got in trouble.” She sneaks a look at the three women, who look torn between telling Maxwell the trouble she caused or telling him that she was no trouble at all.
Bella saves them from their dilemma by pointing at me. “She helped me down from the table, and then I helped her fix her outfit. See, Daddy? I shared my headband.” She stabs her finger in the air, pointing at my head.
I forgot that I was still wearing the headband, and now I feel more than a little foolish. I want to remove it, but know how the little girl might feel if I do that. I square my shoulders and lift my chin. I did nothing wrong, and I refuse to feel silly for wearing the inappropriately frilly headband.
I don’t know if I’m imagining things, but it seems like the corners of Maxwell’s mouth lift when I fix my posture. I can’t stand to be in the room much longer. I have to come to the conference room to work, but I think if I wait ten minutes, everyone should clear out. The receptionists are leaving ahead of me, and I don’t want to be left alone in the room with Maxwell because every meeting leaves me feeling awkward.
Maxwell steps to the side to allow them all to leave but steps back in the doorway just as I’m rounding the table to exit. It’s my own fault for not picking up the pace, I reprimand myself. He steps to the left as if to give me space, but it still doesn’t allow me much room to move past him. His arms are huge when flexed, as they are now. He holds his daughter in one arm, with the other arm coming under her for support. My mouth goes dry just thinking about those arms wrapped around me. I don’t know where these thoughts are coming from, but I immediately want to blame Riley for putting them there. She keeps talking about me dating, and now I find myself falling into that mind trap that will only lead to disaster.
“Do you need to use the conference room?” His deep voice interrupts my thoughts, and my heart flutters in response.
“I do,” I answer. “But first I need to talk to Samuel about something. So, I’ll just...do that first.”
I don’t have to speak to Samuel about anything urgently, but I make it a priority now. Maxwell doesn’t budge. He must think he’s given me sufficient room. I murmur an “excuse me,” and he presses himself closer to the left side of the door. There still isn’t enough room.
Turning to my side to squeeze past him, I make a quick decision to either brush my bottom against him or my chest. I choose chest because I’ll feel more in control while I’m facing him. I finally make it past him, but not without feeling a sharp jolt when my breasts make contact with this muscular arm. A warmth grows between my legs, and I feel my face turn hot. I feel like he knows what effect he’s having on me, and all of me is on display.
Once I’m out of the conference room, I almost run to Samuel’s office, taking deep gulps of air as I go. The two brothers might look alike, but that’s where their similarities start and end. I don’t dare look back to see if he is watching me. I can already feel a pair of eyes on me as I walk away, and I’m still recovering from just a simple touch. Another look into his eyes might totally unhinge me.
When I get home, I relax on my small patio. I made it through my first week unscathed, and I’m proud of myself for hanging in there. Things looked bleak for a while, but they turned around quickly. I pick up my phone to call Riley. I think it’s time I told her the truth, so she’ll back off with the whole hookup situation.
The phone rings and I hang up before it goes to voicemail. Maybe I’ll just text her to get a rise out of her. I imagine a shocked look on her face and laugh to myself. Yes, that will get her attention.
Hey, Riley, it’s Laura. I called to talk, but I guess you’re busy. I wanted to tell you—the reason I’m so hesitant to date is that I’m a virgin.
I hit “send,” drop the phone onto my lap, and close my eyes. I suspect that I’ll get a phone call within a few minutes with that bombshell. Exhaustion from the week has caught up with me, and I wake up with a start. I check my phone, it’s only been thirty minutes. Why hasn’t Riley called? I wonder.
I check my text message again to make sure it sent, and my blood runs cold. My face turns hot, and I feel my heartbeat quicken.
I didn’t send it to Riley. I sent it to Maxwell.
Laura
My heels make a staccato sound as I walk briskly to Samuel’s office. Last week, I was afraid I would fall behind on some work. So with his permission, I took home some files. Now I’m confident that this week will go more smoothly since I have a better grasp of my role here. All I need to do is focus on my work and ignore everything and everyone around me.
Especially Maxwell. I shudder just thinking about the text. I don’t know if a busy guy like him even checks his text messages, or if he knows who sent him that text, but I don’t want to find out.
I am relieved that Samuel isn’t on the phone as I approach his office. I want nothing to ruin my momentum. I know that when he sees me fired up and ready to go, he keeps out of my way so I can finish. I like that we share this unspoken communication. At a time like this, I need him to trust that I will get my work done. I breeze into his office and drop the files onto the side of his desk.
“I’m done with these. Co
uld you please review them before I file them away or send them to the right departments?” I cross my arms to wait.
He doesn’t answer right away, and lifts his head to look at the far corner of his office. My eyes follow his.
Maxwell is standing there, his sleeves rolled up and one hand on his hip. There’s a smattering of light hair covering his muscular arm that tapers down to end with his blunt fingers. I need to start carrying a bottle of water around this office the way my mouth keeps going dry whenever I see him. He looks like he was explaining something before I interrupted him. He doesn’t look happy, but he doesn’t look mad either. Dammit, I can’t read any of his facial expressions, but it doesn’t keep me from trying.
I manage a small hello before turning back to Samuel. It takes all of my will to keep from turning and running out the same way I came in. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting. I can come back at a later time. I’ll head back to the conference room and come back to this in a few hours.”
“Well now, wait for a second.” Samuel is thumbing through the thickest file while I talk. I shift from one foot to the other and rotate my ankles clockwise, then counterclockwise, to relieve the pressure from my unsensible shoes. Hopefully, it’ll let me occupy myself, so I don’t think too much about the man who knows something incredibly personal about me. I tell myself it’s possible that he didn’t read it, but it doesn’t seem like he lets anything slide past him.
Samuel begins to take too long for my liking, and I let him know it.
“Really, it’s fine. I feel like you guys were in the middle of something, and I should probably come back at a better time. I have that new box of files that some of the brokers dropped off earlier this morning, so I should probably take a peek at those before lunch.” I start to back out of the room, and this time, Samuel doesn’t protest.
He nods without looking up from the folder. “Sure. Come back in an hour, or at least before you take your lunch. I should have these back to you by then.” Samuel snaps one file shut, and I nod quickly. I can’t help it.
I look at Maxwell, and I immediately know I’ve made a huge mistake in doing so. “Laura.” The sound of my name on his lips sends shivers down my spine. “Could you please stop in my office before you get back to the conference room? Go ahead and go on in. I’ll catch up with you in a minute.”
He dismisses me with that order, and I nod with surprising calm. Great, what does he want to talk about? My walk toward Samuel’s office was so confident earlier, but now I’m unsure about this one-on-one meeting. I make a quick detour to the ladies’ room and press cold water to my face. My heart is pounding, and I feel myself begin to perspire under my jacket. It suddenly feels so heavy, but I know removing it will make me feel exposed. I examine myself in the mirror and draw my eyebrows down. Enough is enough. I obviously sent the message in error and considering our first meeting, this is hardly something he can fire me over.
Walking toward his office, I hope for a few more minutes to compose myself, but he is already behind his desk with his head bent over some papers.
“Laura, have a seat. And shut the door if you could, please.” His voice is low and even, but I know a command when I hear one. Part of me wants to rebel, but if I had any doubt that he had the upper hand before, I’m under no such illusion now.
“Yes, of course.” The door clicks closed quietly, and I sit. Even after drowning out much of the office noise, the silence in the room is deafening.
“I’d like to get right to the point if that’s alright with you,” he says, folding his hands over the papers in front of him. I observe his hands when his fingers interlace. The large knuckles look like they’re shooting out the large, throbbing veins over the tops of his hands.
“Sure,” I say with a calmness that belies the somersaults in my stomach. I already know where this is going. He’s going to ask why I sent him an inappropriate text message. The response is already on my lips.
“You punched me in a bar if I remember correctly.” His eyebrow arches interrogatively, and I nod dumbly. I didn’t expect him to start there.
“You must know that’s a serious offense. The only reason you’re still employed here is that you know the right people, and despite your lack of experience, you’ve proven that you can handle the work.”
I open my mouth to respond, but I can’t think of anything to say to him. He’s caught me off guard with the subtle compliment. He continues to talk about how he could have had me arrested if he wanted to, and then I feel irritation building up inside.
“Wait just a second,” I say, uncrossing my legs and leaning forward. “You were harassing that woman in the bar—what about that?”
“Harassing?” He snorts. “You think I have to hassle women to date me?”
His arrogance makes me mad. He really thinks he’s something! “It sure looked that way to me,” I say. I’m controlling my anger, but barely. I can’t believe he thinks he has an argument.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says dismissively. “She deserved much worse—I was only trying to talk to her.”
“Talk?” I am at the edge of my seat now. “We’re talking right now. What you were doing that night didn’t look like talking. In fact, I could have had you arrested for your behavior that night!” My voice is rising, and I feel my face get hot.
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and I immediately regret saying it. It’s official; I will be unemployed by the end of the day.
“If you must know,” he leans forward as well, and we’re mere inches from each other now, “she was supposed to be watching my daughter, so you can imagine my surprise when I saw her getting busy with some guy in a booth.”
Before I can respond, and before I can mentally calculate how much of my savings will be depleted because of my big mouth, the door is thrown open, and we hear his secretary toss an apology over her shoulder.
A small body hurls itself at me. “Laura!” Bella’s arms are already around me before I know what’s happening.
My arms come around her automatically, and I bend to pull her into the hug. “Bella, when did you get here?” I ask, pulling away with a smile. She doesn’t answer because she’s already moved on to her next victim. She throws herself across his lap and looks at him upside down. “Daddy!”
Maxwell chuckles and lifts her so she’s perched on his knee. She begins to play with his tie, the more she tightens it, the more his face turns red. Part of me is alarmed, and another part of me is amused. Clearly, the little girl calls the shots with her father.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt—” Samuel pokes his head in and breaks off when he sees his niece in action. “Whoa, can you breathe?”
Maxwell lifts his hand to tug at his collar. “I can now. What’s up?”
I wonder how I can make my escape.
“You forgot this in my office.” Samuel raises the file clutched in his hand and drops it on the table. Bella sees this as an invitation, and lifts a pen from the table, preparing to leave her signature on it.
Samuel laughs. “You really take after your dad, huh, Bella?”
Bella grins at him and proceeds to draw circles on the back of a notepad. I look back and forth between the brothers, sensing some unspoken words shared between the two.
To my surprise, Samuel seems to win, and he points at me. “Could I see you back in my office? I had a minute to look at some of the Singapore files, and I had a couple questions about them.”
A wave of relief washes over me, and I want to leap from my seat and run out the door. “Yes, of course.” I muster up my courage to look at Maxwell again. “Uh, are we…” I trail off, unsure of what to say. Are we done talking about how each of us could get in trouble with the law for our behavior?
“Yes, I think we can continue our conversation another time,” Maxwell says, leaning back in his seat. Bella takes this opportunity to lean back with him and snuggle in deeper. A part of me feels jealous of this little girl. A big part of me,
actually. I wonder what it would be like to sit in his lap like that. No, not like that. I want to be facing him and give him full access to—
“Bye, Laura!” Bella waves and drops off of her father’s lap, breaking the spell. I smile and wave back at her.
It’s foolish to think about him in that way. He might be sinfully attractive, he might be incredibly powerful, and he might have a tender spot in his heart for kids, but that doesn’t mean that he’s a good guy. Although, when I put it all together like that, it’s harder to convince myself of this. He’s arrogant, I remind myself. Arrogant men think they can have any woman, and that’s when I’ll get hurt.
Samuel is still standing in the doorway. Maxwell has pushed the chair back as far as it will go and is clasping his hands behind his head. Bella begins to grace his desk with pieces of tape while singing a lullaby. I almost want to stay and soak up the comfort that her presence brings, but I know I can’t.
I give Maxwell a terse nod and step out the door. The air feels a little more chilled, and I pull the ends of my jacket closer around me.
“Sam!” Maxwell calls as Samuel begins to shut the door.
“Yeah?” Sam asks.
“That office by the supply closet; is it still free?”
“Yeah, but it’s being used to store whatever spilled over from the supply closet,” Samuel says.
“Have it cleaned up and give it to Laura. She’ll need a space of her own because the conference room will be used heavily next month.”
“Hey, thanks!” Samuel looks back to grin at me. “Congratulations!”
I don’t know what this means. Am I still a temp? I don’t want to ask and appear foolish, or ask and have Maxwell revoke his offer. I look up to see him looking back at me. His eyes seem to see right through me. I flatten my lips in a faux smile and give another terse nod.
Maxwell
