Page 44 of Brewer Family Collection, Part 1

Chloe

T hree … Four … Five … Six …

The elevator dings, and the doors open to the executive level.

A rush of sandalwood-scented air floats into the lift and guides me onto dark hardwood. An oversized desk anchors the space, and a copper-colored airplane hangs from the ceiling by an invisible wire. It’s classy with a touch of fun.

“Did you get your muffin?” Brandi asks from behind the desk.

“Is that a serious question?”

She laughs. “Jason came up a few seconds ago and said not to let you get distracted. You’re to go straight to his office.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

Her eyes sparkle as she settles against her seat, awaiting the next move in my latest situation involving my boss. Our back-and-forth amuses Brandi. It amuses me, too.

Jason and I met the summer I turned seven.

My parents had just divorced, and my mother began housekeeping for Jason’s mother, Rory.

Rory was kind enough to allow Mom to bring me with her.

I spent those long, sunny days romping through the vast Brewer property with the two youngest kids, Bianca and Tate.

It was the best summer of my life—especially one scorching July afternoon.

Tate was making me pitch a baseball to him in a grassy area next to the pool. My arm was getting sore, but I wasn’t about to complain. I wound up, launched the baseball at the makeshift plate, and stepped on a bee.

I screamed bloody murder.

Then, out of nowhere, one of Tate’s older brothers scooped me up in his muscled arms and carried me like a princess into the kitchen.

Through my tears, I committed everything about Jason to memory—the scent of his sweat, the kindness in his eyes, and how safe I felt with him.

He was my hero, and I’ve been slightly smitten with him ever since.

I tap my raggedy fingernails against Brandi’s desktop. “What are the odds that I could get you to lie to him for me? Tell him I had to go to HR for an emergency. Or that I got up here and got violently sick and had to head home for the greater good of humankind?”

“What in the world did you do this time?”

I grimace at the memory. “Can’t tell you. But rest assured, it was something I’ll have regret dreams about for the rest of my life?—”

A buzzing sound cuts me off. Brandi snickers as she pushes the speakerphone button.

“Yes, Mr. Brewer?” she says.

“Don’t tell him I’m here,” I whisper.

“Did I just hear Chloe?” he asks.

My eyes go wide. “What the hell? Do I not have any privacy today?”

“Get back here,” he says.

His tone is firm and rough. Yet a hint of mischievousness is embedded in the words, making me smile—and raising my temperature.

“ Yes, sir ,” I say sweetly, turning toward the hallway leading to his office. I’m stopped by a tissue being thrust at my side.

Brandi hits a button, and Jason’s call is disconnected.

“Wipe your mouth. You have a tiny blue stain in the corner right there.” She touches the side of her lip. “I can’t let you go back there looking like you sucked off a cartoon character.”

I take the tissue from her. “This is why you get paid the big bucks.”

“Sure.” She laughs, holding out a small wastepaper basket. “You can repay me by telling me what this is all about.”

I drop the tissue in the trash and head down the corridor. “I can’t do that. Think the worst, and you’re probably on track.”

“You’re no fun.”

Jason’s oversized door looms ahead. But instead of going straight to the end of the hall, I make a slight detour and stop in my office. Jason is silent on the other side of the wall connecting our spaces.

I flip on the light and pull a mirror from my desk. I'm ready to see him after a quick once-over and a fresh coat of lip gloss.

A pulse of excitement races through my veins.

It doesn’t matter that I’ve worked for Brewer Air for three years, spent seven months as his EA, and have known him most of my life—or that I consider him as much a friend as I do my boss.

There’s no real way to prepare for those green eyes and sexy smile.

I smooth my dress, straighten my powder-pink cardigan, and set my shoulders back.

Here goes nothing …

“You wanted to see me?” I ask, swinging our adjoining door open without so much as a knock.

He leans against a wide desk crafted from the same dark wood as Brandi’s, with one arm crossed over his thick chest. The other hand reaches his mouth, his thumb feathering against his lips as he waits for me to approach him.

My God, he’s handsome.

His expression is controlled and unreadable. It’s a game he plays. He tries to throw me off with his aloofness.

He should know by now that it won’t work on me.

“You’re already getting on my nerves today,” I say.

This earns me a slight, crooked grin.

“Nickie says there’s a rumor that we’re preparing for a layoff,” I say, moving across his office to the windows overlooking Nashville. “I assured her it was just gossip.”

“I heard.”

I look at him over my shoulder. “You heard the gossip?”

“No, I heard you telling her it was gossip.”

“Eavesdropping is a nasty habit, Mr. Brewer.”

He smiles cheekily. “So is telling your coworkers you would do anything for your boss.”

My core melts as I absorb the heat in his eyes.

“Is that what you think I said?” I ask, lifting a brow. “Because I think you’re hearing what you want to hear.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t do anything I asked?”

I grin. “Are you saying that’s not what you want to hear?”

The air thickens as we let the tension settle around us.

Our relationship is unusual, but it works.

Sure, working so closely with an old friend that I’m crazily attracted to has its drawbacks.

I’m jealous when women flirt with him. I worry about his well-being.

And I’ve considered packing an extra set of panties in my purse for the days he wears my favorite black suit and tie.

But it also has its perks. I know Jason well enough to anticipate his needs. We trust one another, which provides a more relaxed working environment. And Jason and I communicate effortlessly, respect one another, and value the same things.

We might flirt in private for fun, but when it’s time to work, no one is more productive and efficient as us.

I glance over my shoulder into my adjoining office as Brandi sets a vase of flowers on my desk. The burst of color looks pretty next to the iced coffee Jason brought me this morning, although I have no idea who they’re from. So I make a beeline for her.

“Are those for me?” I ask.

“Yes. Wendy just sent them up from the front desk,” she says. “They’re freaking gorgeous, Chloe. Who are they from?”

“I have no idea.”

She peers around me, then speaks in a hushed tone. “Do these have anything to do with why you were summoned to Jason’s office?”

I laugh out loud. “Definitely not.”

“Well, they smell amazing. Enjoy them,” she says before disappearing around the corner.

Orange and pink roses, yellow carnations, and bright greenery fill a small, square vase. I find the card nestled in the petals and pull it out.

Friday at seven. See you then.

Thomas

Thomas ? I roll my eyes but mentally applaud the effort.

“Who are those from?” Jason startles me.

I turn to find him leaning against the doorframe between our offices. He’s trying to appear nonplussed, but I see through the facade. He’s annoyed. Good.

“It’s none of your business,” I say, grinning at him.

He steps out of the doorway, motioning with his arm for me to return to his office. He snatches the card from my hand before I get past him.

“ Hey ,” I protest, although I don’t try to retrieve it from his palm. The invasion of my privacy is worth his reaction.

The darkness sweeping over his features pulls at a knot in my stomach, releasing a burst of hormones to flood my system. I imagine him grabbing me and shoving me against a wall, his eyes burning into mine. His fingers biting into my flesh as he lifts my shirt?—

“Who is Thomas?” he asks, interrupting my fantasy.

“A friend.”

His jaw sets as he looks up, narrowing his eyes at me. “What’s Friday at seven?”

I narrow my eyes back but fail to remove the puckish smile from my face. “What do you think is Friday at seven?”

“I thought you weren’t dating.”

“No one said anything about dating, Jason.”

He takes a deep breath, his fingers flexing around the thin paper, then marches back to his desk.

I quickly gather my wits and move as confidently across the office. My heart thumps with each step I take. His voice is liquid fire as his words ring through my mind. “I thought you weren’t dating.”

I try to hide my grin. This is way more fun than Thomas is going to be.

“Can I have the card back?” I ask, stretching my hand across his desk.

He makes no move to return it. Instead, he deliberately places it beside his phone. Then he sits down and rocks back in his chair, daring me to take it.

“I didn’t think you were seeing anyone,” he says, resting his chin on steepled fingers.

“I’m not seeing anyone.” I grab the card before he can stop me and then sit across from him. “But just because I don’t want to date anyone doesn’t mean I don’t have needs.”

“And Thomas meets those needs?”

“He’s going to on Friday.”

I smirk. Jason is unamused.

“Did you decide whether to draft a contract to Rigglen Aeronautics?” I ask, circling back to a safer topic—work. “Jerry Rigglen calls me daily, and I promised him an answer this week.”

“You would know if we were drafting a contract to Rigglen if you hadn’t snuck out of the conference room this morning.”

“I had something to take care of.”

He hums, eyeing me suspiciously. “Should I find it coincidental that my EA slipped out of a meeting at the same time the morning pastries arrived?”

I smile. “No, because that’s exactly what I was doing—and I’m not sorry. I had a morning from hell, and I needed a little pick-me-up.”

“Why was this morning so bad?” His features shift immediately, switching to genuine concern in a snap. “Did something happen?”

My heart softens as I stare into his flecks of jade.