Hook Me Up (Business Of Love Book 3)

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Hook Me Up (Business Of Love Book 3) Page 10

by Ali Parker


  “I can’t believe you just spanked me with a wooden spoon,” I said.

  “You had it coming.”

  I propped myself up on my hands and knees and turned around on the bed so I could rest my chin on my hands and be beside him.

  Jackson gazed up at me and smiled. “Have I told you how glad I am you came to New York?”

  “Only a dozen times.”

  “Well, I’ll say it again. I’m glad you’re here, Hails.”

  I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Me too.”

  His defenses were down. I plucked the spoon from his hand, raised it over my head, and bellowed a battle cry as his eyes widened and he scrambled to get to his feet to escape my wrath.

  I hopped off the bed and shot after him when he raced out of the bedroom laughing like a mad man.

  “Come back here!” I roared. “Which cheek do you want it on? Left or right?”

  Chapter 16

  Jackson

  My shoulders, arms, and back were killing me.

  But Hailey wouldn’t relent. She was ruthless. There was no compassion or empathy in her soul as she cleared her throat behind me and I held the picture up against her wall. I hung my head and spoke under my armpit at her.

  “Like this?”

  Hailey hummed and hawed behind me. “I think it needs to go a little to the right. Nope. Too far.”

  “I hardly moved it.”

  “Jackson, I have a good eye for this kind of thing, okay? Just be patient.”

  “Patient?” I mumbled under my breath. “I’ve been standing here for twenty minutes and my arms feel like they’re about to pop out of their sockets. But yeah. I’ll be patient.”

  “What did you say? I can’t hear you when you’re mumbling.”

  I groaned. “Nothing. My arms are just starting to hurt.”

  “Poor baby,” Hailey teased. “Your desk job is making you soft.”

  I tried to twist around to glare at her over my shoulder but I didn’t want to risk moving the picture we were hanging and having to start all over again. “Would you like to switch places?”

  “Don’t be funny. You’d have me hanging it crooked and two feet to the left.”

  I groaned and pressed my forehead to the picture. “Just hurry up.”

  The picture was of a beautiful piece of property somewhere down south. It had been painted from the perspective of someone sitting on a front porch of a country home looking out at rolling fields of tall grass that gave way to a backdrop of mountains and a cloudless sky. It was done in oil paintings and the contrast of colors was quite magnificent. Hailey had swooned over it as soon as she saw it in the window of a store we passed after shopping for furniture, and I, being a good friend, had insisted we bring it home with us.

  Had I known at the time she’d be torturing me like this, I would have chosen a much smaller, lighter picture to hang up.

  “Can you slide it just half an inch back to the left?” Hailey asked.

  I pressed my fingers against the white frame and moved it ever so gently along the wall. I froze when she told me to stop and prayed like hell this was finally it.

  “I think that’s the spot,” Hailey said.

  “Thank God. Come over here. Grab that pencil on the nightstand and mark the wall under the frame. I’ll hang it up.”

  Hailey did as I asked, and once she’d made the mark, she poked me in the ribs with the eraser end of the pencil. “You’re so domestic, Jackson.”

  “How much is a one-way flight back to Nashville right now?”

  She giggled. “Oh please. Like you’d actually want to get rid of me. I’m bringing life to this place and you know it. Now, you hang. I have to pee.”

  “Conveniently bowing out now that there’s work to do, hmm?”

  Hailey pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Don’t be bitter. I’ll be right back.”

  Hailey abandoned me to my own devices. I adored her, but I was much more efficient without her perfectionism wreaking hell on my work.

  While she was in the bathroom, I managed to get the big picture hung. When she returned, she gushed about how good it looked, and we both stood back to admire it.

  “I have to admit, you have good taste,” I said.

  “Thank you. I do, don’t I?”

  “I think I’ll keep it when you move out. It really adds to the room.”

  Her wide eyes fixed on me.

  I laughed. “I’m kidding. It’s yours. Relax.”

  She swatted my chest. “Bully.”

  “Bully? You’re the one who’s been bossing me around all afternoon.”

  “You need direction, Jackson.”

  She wasn’t wrong. But my pride steadfastly believed I could’ve done just as good of a job without her micromanaging me.

  She pointed at the floor-length mirror propped up against the wall between the closet and her nightstand. “Can we hang this next? I need a full-length mirror for when I get ready for work tomorrow.”

  I groaned.

  “Please? Pretty please?” She pouted.

  I waved her off. “How about you go start dinner? You’re good at cooking. I’m good at hanging and building. We’ll reconvene in an hour.”

  And I’ll get everything done that would normally take you three hours.

  “You don’t need my help?” Hailey asked.

  “Help?” I practically squawked. “Is that what you call what you’ve been doing?”

  She planted her fists on her hips. “If you hang anything crooked, you know I’m just going to make you do it all over again. And I don’t like having a bunch of holes in my walls.”

  “Have I been spoiling you our whole friendship?”

  She snickered. “No. I’ve just gotten used to your very comfortable lifestyle. What do you think? Am I getting better at this whole rich-girl thing?”

  I laughed. “I hate to break it to you, Hails, but I don’t think you’ll ever nail down the rich-girl act. You’re too sweet to be a diva.”

  “Aww, Jack, that was actually—”

  “Except for when you’re making me hang your damn pictures.”

  Hailey stuck her tongue out at me. “Jerk.”

  She left the bedroom and gave me the peace and quiet I needed to finish hanging the rest of her pictures and wall-mounted items. I did the mirror first because that one seemed like a top priority for her, after which I moved on to hang the white shelves she wanted above her bed for holding plants she had yet to purchase. I hung another mirror on the far wall at the end of her bed where she wanted her makeup vanity to go, and by the time I’d made sure it was straight, the whole place smelled like something cheesy and savory.

  Hailey had music playing in the kitchen and I listened to her singing along while I cleaned up my tools from the bedroom. I took a bit of extra time to move the chaise into the corner by the window where she wanted. Once I was sure the task was done as close to perfection as possible, I stood back to admire our work.

  The room had definitely come together nicely.

  It had a distinct Hailey vibe to it. It was luxurious and simple all at once. Feminine but not too feminine. Bright and airy but still comfortable and cozy. All that we were waiting for now was the rug and vanity she’d ordered from Hugo’s store, and both were set to arrive tomorrow or the next day. Then she’d be all settled in.

  I’d installed a closet organizer for her yesterday and it took her hours to set it up how she wanted. Now the closet doors were wide open, exposing a neatly organized, color-coded, slick-looking collection of clothes and shoes.

  Her work clothes were on the right in neutral colors and modest cuts. On the left were her other clothes. Her skin-tight jeans I liked so much. Her summer dresses and skirts and plain tees she loved so much. Her collection of leggings, of which there were more than I could count, were neatly folded in a white basket and labeled succinctly, “leggings.”

  Where helping people find love was my passion, organization and tidiness seemed to be Hailey’
s.

  I wondered if she’d ever put that to use in her future career, whatever it might be. I still couldn’t quite bring myself to believe it would be at the call center.

  You need to get off her back about that job and just let her figure it out, I told myself.

  Hailey swung around the doorframe of her bedroom and stopped dead. “Jack. This looks great!”

  I turned to her. “Oh. So I am capable of doing this on my own then?”

  She smirked. “I suppose you are. Don’t get sassy with me. I made your food. Which means I have power. You don’t know if I tampered with it or not.”

  “You’re not being very nice to me today, you know?” I put on a fake frown. “I’m starting to feel underappreciated.”

  Hailey rolled her eyes and came toward me. She took my chin and gave my head a gentle shake. I could smell her vanilla body spray and I admired the rosy hue of her cheeks and the glow of her skin. “You’ll feel differently when you eat what I made. Not to toot my own horn, but it’s pretty damn good. And you earned it.”

  All of her poking and prodding at me all day was immediately forgiven. She knew the way to my heart was through food and affection. I was a simple man. She released my chin, took my hand, and led me out of the bedroom and down the hall into the dining room, where she’d set the table nicely. Our plates were already full of what looked to be some sort of pasta casserole dish. Steam curled up from the plates and beads of sweat rolled down the glasses of iced water.

  “Looks fantastic,” I said as I took my seat.

  She sat too. “Thank you for helping with my room today. I know I can be a little… tedious to work with. But I really appreciate it. Now I can start work tomorrow and feel like I’m waking up and getting ready in a space that’s mine. You have no idea how important that is for my headspace.”

  I had a little bit of an idea.

  Hailey had been a little on edge these past couple of days as we worked to finish things off in her room. Luckily, we were closing in on the final stretch. Rug, vanity, and plants. All that would be left to do after that would be for Hailey to enjoy her space.

  And enjoy it, she would.

  “Can we go plant shopping this weekend?” Hailey asked through a mouthful of pasta. “I want some for my shelf and bathroom. I was thinking some little ferns and maybe some ivy.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  She flashed me a sweet smile. “You’re the best, Jack.”

  “Believe me. I know.”

  Chapter 17

  Hailey

  The phones had been ringing off the hook for four hours straight. I ate my lunch at my desk—leftovers from the dinner I’d cooked for us last night that weren’t nearly as good cold as I’d hoped they’d be—and spent the second half of my break frantically trying to arrange my work station into a practical, functional space.

  It was easier said than done.

  Whoever had sat at this desk before me did a terrible job of keeping things tidy. What was more annoying was nobody had bothered to come in and clean the desk out before I arrived. So, while I sat on calls with irritated customers, I simultaneously disinfected and wiped drawers, tossed out gum wrappers, loose papers, chocolate-bar wrappers, half-used erasers, and pens with dried ink. By the time all the junk was cleared out, my stomach was rumbling and I felt lightheaded and uneasy.

  The New York call center was definitely busier than the one in Nashville. I was going to have to adjust to the change of pace but I needed a break. I removed my headset and pushed my cue of callers back into the general calls so they would be distributed to one of the other fifty employees in my office.

  I slumped back in my desk to take a breather and have another snack. I was famished. I’d packed a banana and some chopped-up cucumbers and carrots with hummus. I couldn’t eat the banana without feeling a bit of nausea in my belly. It was something about the texture that wasn’t agreeing with me. So I set it aside and dug into the veggies, which gave me no issues.

  “Have you tried roasted garlic and jalapeno pepper hummus?” a thin voice asked from the other side of my cubicle wall.

  I pumped my chair up to peer over the divider.

  A young man, probably no more than twenty-two or so, sat on the other side. His headset was wrapped around his neck and he was twirling the cord around his fingers over and over.

  He gave me a sheepish grin that showed off deep dimples and big white teeth. “I’m Jeremy,” he said. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be nosy. I’m the guy in the office who always takes interest in what everyone is eating.”

  I smiled back. “Not nosy at all. It’s my first day and I’m always too shy to break the ice. I’m Hailey.”

  “Brown,” he said with a knowing nod. “I know. I scoped out your resume when I saw it on the boss’s desk the other day. You’re a transfer, right?”

  “From Nashville.”

  “Welcome to New York,” Jeremy said. He popped up to his feet and extended his hand over the divider. He had several bracelets on his right wrist. Two were sterling silver and one was studded with diamonds. The others were black volcanic rock and turquoise. A charm hung from one of them but I couldn’t tell what it was. “If you need anything, let me know. This place is pretty chill. Busy for sure, but everyone who works here is friendly enough. Except for Tasha.” He nodded across the office toward the wall of windows, where I saw a middle-aged woman with a head of wildly curly blonde hair. “She’s a bit of a black hole. She likes to gossip and stir up drama. If you’re into that kind of shit, she’ll be your best friend. If not, keep your distance.”

  “Anything else I should know from a pro?” I asked.

  Jeremy giggled and ran his fingers through his frosted-blond hair. He was a good-looking guy with an elongated oval face and symmetrical features. His brows were black, suggesting his hair took quite a lot of time and effort to get it to the near-white shade it was, and his eyes were dark brown and rimmed in thick voluminous lashes. One might say he was beautiful instead of handsome.

  “Well, for starters, don’t leave your lunch in the fridge,” he said. “Someone will eat it. Also if you need time off, ask the assistant manager, Jocelyn. She’s much more accommodating than Moe. And feel free to flag accounts of verbally abusive customers. That shit doesn’t fly here.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. Turnover rate in this office is lower than anywhere else in the country. Moe won’t stand for his people being bullied. If you need to pull him into a call for backup, you’d best believe he’ll have your back. Even if you’re wrong.”

  “Sounds like a good boss.”

  “He is,” Jeremy said. “He’s got a temper though. So like I said, if you need something—”

  “Ask Jocelyn. Got it.”

  Jeremy arched a dramatic eyebrow and looked me up and down. “You catch on quick, Nashville.”

  “I try.”

  “How much longer do you have on your break?”

  “Fifteen minutes.”

  Jeremy walked out from his cubicle and came to stand at the entrance to mine. He draped an elbow on the divider. “Wanna grab a coffee and chat? I love getting to know fresh meat before anyone else. And you can explain to me why you decided this was the right outfit to wear on your first day in a new office.”

  I looked down at my clothes. “What’s wrong with this?”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Jeremy chuckled. “You are country, aren’t you?”

  I licked my lips. “Um. Yes?”

  “I love it.” He held out his hand and I took it. He interlaced his fingers with mine and pulled me out into the aisle with him. We strode between the rows of cubicles until we reached the break room. I hadn’t had a chance to check it out yet and I was impressed by the fancy coffee machines complete with steaming wands for frothing milk to make lattes or cappuccinos. The counters were spotless and there were trays of snacks out for the employees to help themselves to. They were loaded up with individual-sized bags of chips as well as candy bars, granola bars,
fruit gummies, pretzels, and crackers. Another basket was overflowing with apples and bananas.

  Jeremy busied himself with making us each a latte. He finished mine first, drizzled it with caramel, and handed it to me in a fluid motion before going back to steaming a second pitcher of milk.

  “You look like a pro on this thing,” I said.

  “I worked at a coffee shop for a few years before I decided to shift gears. There’s something therapeutic about frothing milk and pulling espresso shots, you know? How is it?”

  I licked caramel and foam from my upper lip. “Delicious. Thank you.”

  “Good answer, Nashville.”

  Jeremy finished his coffee and slid his arm through mine. He led me out of the break room and back into the office, and as we walked side by side, he leaned in close to say in my ear, “Let me give you a tour and point out all the hotties in the office. Are you single?”

  “Um. Yes.”

  He stopped walking and pulled me to the side so we weren’t blocking an aisle. “Why the hesitation?”

  “No hesitation,” I said.

  Jeremy lifted his chin and looked down the length of his nose at me. “I know that look. There’s a special someone in your life, isn’t there? But they aren’t yours?”

  Damn. He was good. “Maybe,” I admitted.

  “Is this someone a he or a she?”

  “Are you allowed to ask me that?”

  Jeremy snickered. “Well, seeing as how I know you’re straight, I figured it was a safe question. I think what you really mean is would you be allowed to ask me that question. Right?”

  I blinked in confusion. “What?”

  He chuckled. “I’m gay, honey. Very, very gay. That’s why I thought we could check out all the cute boys in the office. But I don’t want to get between you and a special someone—if there is a special someone.”

  He was walking circles around me and I had a feeling Jeremy wouldn’t be the sort of coworker I could hide anything from. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. I had a tendency to keep things bottled up inside and he seemed like the kind of person who would become a fast work friend.

 

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