Page 5 of Falling for a Grumpy Hero

FORD

A nother week had passed and I wasn’t any closer to landing the contract for the Heritage House. On top of that, I’d been having to dodge my bubbly assistant from all angles. She was constantly popping her head in my door, asking if I wanted coffee or needed help with anything.

Frankly, if she had so much time to bug me, she must be bored out of her mind with this job.

I had been afraid that this would happen, considering the undoubtedly high-paced environment she’d come out of, but the advantage of having come out of that environment meant that she completed every task I gave her in record time.

Of course, that had me wondering if she was too overqualified for this job. I sure as hell didn’t pay her enough for her skills—and I was coming to learn that she was skilled at everything.

Sitting behind my desk, I could hear her humming along to whatever song was playing on her headphones. I’d left my office door open because it was summer and it was hot as hell, but since her office was right next to mine, that meant I could hear absolutely everything going on in there.

Her voice was sort of sweet and lyrical as she hummed, and for a moment, the sound didn’t annoy the shit out of me. In a flash, however, that moment was gone and I was back to scowling at nothing but air.

The sound of her fingers flying across the keyboard interspersed the humming, and that, at least, impressed me. She was replying to emails like it was nobody’s business, responding to every inquest from possible clients and following up with contractors.

Every so often, my phone chimed or my computer dinged with a message from her if she’d copied me into the email as well, but it was pleasant that she didn’t feel the need to do that with everything.

I appreciated her ability to work independently and to take initiative when she needed to, perhaps more than anything else about her.

Since she kept bringing it up it, I even had a suspicion that she had been carrying on a thread with the historical society. She’d asked a few times if I went to their meetings and on every occasion my answer had been a gruff but firm no .

Although I had a feeling she’d been expecting an explanation, justification, or even an excuse, I hadn’t offered her any of those things.

The answer wasn’t even that deep—I had a long-standing, solid relationship with the historical society, but I didn’t go to their meetings because I didn’t like. .. anyone.

I had a severe dislike of people in general, I supposed. Those who represented the historical society were more palatable than some others, but perhaps only because I needed them in order to effectively do my job. Or maybe because we shared a common interest.

I sighed and rolled my chair to the other side of my desk. My intention had been to get back to my computer to see if I could get any work done with all the noise she was generating in the background, but when I looked up, I realized I could see her from here.

The way her desk had been positioned to face my office meant that if she lifted her gaze right now, she’d see me looking at her, but I took the moment to check her out. Not in a sexual way, but in a safety way.

And okay, she is beautiful.

That was a fact and it hadn’t escaped my notice. While I still wasn’t convinced that she wasn’t unhinged for being so damn happy all the time, I couldn’t deny that she looked damn good while she was at it.

Sunlight streamed into her office through the window behind her, and it made that red hair glint with hints of gold and copper.

She’d pulled it all up into a braid that was wrapped around her head, but strands had escaped during the morning and they’d fallen free to frame her soft, heart-shaped face.

Although focused on her computer right now, her light blue eyes were incredibly crisp and clear.

I could read a lot of what she was feeling in them when she was close enough.

Mostly, all I’d gotten from her so far was that she found me confusing and perhaps mildly terrifying, but she was definitely enjoying her job and the other people at the office.

Her small, athletic build was pretty appealing in itself. She didn’t have wild, pin-up girl curves, and yet, her body seemed like it would be soft and feminine under all of those ridiculously colorful clothes and busy patterns she wore.

Personally, I stuck to neutral tones and comfortable but classic styles. Gray, black, and white were my go-to, while any color that screamed appeared to be hers. Today, she wore a painfully bright yellow camisole underneath a short white jacket with jeans. Even her sandals were painfully yellow.

It was like she was trying to imitate sunshine itself. I didn’t get it.

As I looked at her, I forgot that I was staring until she suddenly brought her gaze up to mine and caught me in the act. She shot me a dazzling smile and my stomach tightened in a way I didn’t think it ever had before. It caught me off-guard.

Blissfully unaware of my suddenly raging discomfort, she got up and practically floated into my office like that stream of sunlight itself was carrying her forward. “What are you doing?”

I kept my face as straight as ever, but I felt the corners of my eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“Well, it just looked like you were pretty deep in thought. I was wondering what you were thinking about. Maybe I can help.”

“I’m fine.”

Undeterred by the curtness of my response, she kept smiling and floating even further forward—closer to me. “Did you know that it’s difficult for an assistant to assist when the person they’re supposed to be assisting won’t tell them how they can assist?”

“Would you like to say assist one more time?” I asked dryly. “It seems like you need to get it out of your system.”

“My assist-em , you mean?” To my surprise, she laughed, apparently genuinely amused by my question and her response. The sounds bubbling out of her made my stomach tighten again. They were so feminine and carefree that they also sent a pang of something shooting straight through me.

When her laughter finally subsided, she looked at me again, but this time, there was an almost fond smile on her lips.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s got you so puzzled?

You might be surprised by how much I can help.

A couple years ago at my old job, this woman came in who had no idea what she was looking for, only that it had to be special. ”

Her smile widened and she snapped her fingers.

“Like that, I knew exactly what sculpture to show her, and do you know why? It’s because she answered my questions honestly.

Trust me, I can help if you’ll let me. I’m pretty intuitive.

Oh, and the woman bought the sculpture. Said it was perfect.

A giant owl made of clay. Took five guys to move it. All of them your size.”

I frowned, feeling a headache starting to build behind my temples. “Do you talk like this, constantly, to everyone, or is it just me?”

She shrugged, unfazed by my dry tone. “Just you. Anyway, what are you having for lunch? Maybe I can assist you by getting that for you.”

“I’m not eating lunch today because I’ll be on my way to that meeting with the clients from the Heritage House.”

“You’re leaving so early?” She blinked a few times before she straightened up a bit. “Tell me what you’d like to eat and I’ll have it waiting for you at the cafe downstairs to pick up on your way out. We wouldn’t want you meeting with them on an empty stomach.”

I ignored the offer. “They recently rejected a bid from our competitors and I want to know why.”

“Oh, I already know why.” She laughed and stood up. “Hang on a minute.”

Spinning on her flat sandals, she strode back to her office and sat down behind her desk. Within seconds, my email blew up and I frowned, turning toward my computer and opening the thread she’d just forwarded to me.

I gaped, my mouth literally popping open as I read through the exchanges. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her get back up and lean in the doorway.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. This girl had given the wife of the client her entire life story and had gotten the same out of her in return. It was absurd how much information these women had shared so freely, without ever even having met each other.

“We’re email friends now,” she said with a shrug. “Want me to go to the meeting with you?”

Completely baffled, I was tempted to ask her to define email friends , but ended up mumbling, “Sure, you can come,” instead. I was too stunned to even speak properly as I scanned through the emails.

Lila grinned and nodded, pushing away from the door to head back to her office. I kept reading, still not even halfway through it all. What jumped out at me, however, was how detail-oriented she was when it came to design.

In fact, she’d already been able to clear up some questions I’d been stuck on for weeks now about the clients’ desires. I sighed as I leaned back in my chair and realized that I’d seriously underestimated this woman.

At first, I had thought that Lila was just one of those bubbly, woo-woo girls who were always being loud, bouncing through life like the sun was going to shine no matter what, but she was smart. More than just smart, actually. The girl was sharp. Efficient. Effective.

I glanced at her through the door again, my interest thoroughly piqued. It’d been a long time since anyone had pleasantly surprised me, and it was a nice change.

Finally averting my gaze, I clicked out of the emails and into the folder for the Heritage House on my computer.

Taking her to this meeting was a really good idea.

I was interested in seeing precisely what this girl was capable of—whether that thread had revealed information simply because she had the gift of the gab, or if she’d used that gift in order to convince the client to reveal what we needed to know.