Page 10 of Love.V2 (Occupational Hazards #2)
Dylan
I gave her as long as I could. Easy to do, since she avoided me like the plague. When she couldn’t squirm out of a meeting we had together, she avoided my eyes just as purposefully.
But after two days, all it took was one innocuous question from Eric to force her hand. “How’s the National Canine Rescue project going?”
One question, and I was back in her office watching her sit ramrod straight in her chair.
“It’s not poisoned.” I nudged the latte closer. She’d been staring at it since I’d placed it on her desk a few minutes ago.
“I know,” she whispered, still looking like she’d never seen a go-cup before. She cleared her throat, straightening her shoulders and sounding stronger when she tried again. “I know. Thank you.”
I had so many questions. Had she thought about what I’d said? Was she considering giving me a chance? Had she texted Lexi about the baby? But she looked so brittle, I felt like I could crack her with the wrong word, and I settled for: “Have you read the brief Eric sent?”
My brief, more accurately, carefully prepared on the plane earlier this week.
The national dog rescue organization badly needed a new brand facelift, but hesitated to work with a big corporate machine like Worther.
Yes, the campaign would be worth millions, but it was the ideal project for a company like Jinx.
Smaller, with a more wholesome, human-centric image.
At least, that’s what I’d told Henry when I’d poached the project to bring up here. I was still thanking my lucky stars he’d agreed.
Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been sitting here, across from Tess, watching her contemplate her coffee like it held the secrets of the universe.
Her breath blew the little wisps of hair away from her face. She’d left half of it down, falling in gentle waves down her back. Was it still soft as silk now that it was purple?
“Right.” Her fingers danced across her keyboard, pulling up the document, as well as a presentation deck I’d never seen before. She paused to take a tentative sip of her coffee.
It felt like a win, a concession of some sort, and I wanted to ask her right then and there if she had an answer for me yet.
If we could ditch this whole charade and go somewhere and talk so I could tell her everything I’d been thinking for the last six months.
Everything I’d learned about myself and what I missed about her and the person I wanted to be for her.
Her eyes flashed up once, and I could have sworn the word professional floated in the air between us like a ghost.
“Right. So. National Canine Rescue.” I sipped my coffee.
“I looked over the brief yesterday. Compiling the information on Jinx’s capabilities and creative process will be easy.” She flicked through a few preliminary slides she’d pulled together. I frowned at the screen .
Technically, Tess was right when she’d told Eric we hadn’t worked closely together. I was high-up in Worther’s echelon and I didn’t work directly with designers.
I knew working there hadn’t fit with her creative style or what she wanted to achieve in her career, but I hadn’t realized Worther had also been holding her back.
As she took me through the slides, voice getting stronger with every minute, memory after memory washed through my mind. Searching. I didn’t recall her ever having this easy grasp on business strategy, but maybe it was a newfound talent.
The thought didn’t sit right. I’d overlooked something, or she’d developed new skills without me. Either way left me feeling empty. And unnecessary.
“You don’t need me for this at all.” Dual feelings of pride and devastation twisted through me. She was so incredible. And I was an idiot.
“It’s pretty standard. I’m not completely sure it will do the trick to advance us to the next round of the business pitch.
” Tess frowned at the screen a little too hard, still trying not to look at me, even though she’d loosened up over the last half-hour.
“They’ve done the agency thing before, and they’re looking for something different.
I’m not sure I have it yet. I hit a wall last night and had to step away. ”
She stared at the slides as if they’d magically produce the answers for her. I couldn’t help but think about the Tess I’d known who had dreaded Monday mornings and logged off her computer as soon as she could at five p.m.
“You really do love it here. ”
“Yes, I do.” She sounded uncomfortable, and maybe a little defensive, as she navigated through a few more slides, jotting some notes down on a rainbow notepad in front of her.
“Why?” I was dying to know. Why this place? Why now? What made her light up when everything in Nashville had seemed to grind her down?
She frowned, picking at her nails. “We don’t have to get this…personal. We can just go through the slides and be done with it.”
“It’s for the presentation.” I’d never told a bigger lie in my life. “To pitch the company, I need to know how it stands out. Tell me what you like about it.”
She leaned back, considering, as I took another sip of coffee. She was quiet for so long, I wasn’t sure she’d answer.
“I like that we’re encouraged to fail here. We’re not expected to be little robots churning out Facebook ads all the time, you know?”
“You once told me the Worther campaigns didn’t have any soul.”
She blinked in surprise, glancing at me for a too-brief moment.
“Yeah. I probably said that. Here, though, people are passionate about what they do. Other corporate design jobs have burned most of us out. Jinx feels like a safe space.” Her mouth hitched to the side as she surveyed the bright furniture and big windows in her office. “It feels like we…like we…”
Frowning again, she looked up at me. She’d been avoiding my gaze for so long the extended, unfiltered eye contact caught me off guard. My heart jumped.
She grinned when she spoke, and that jerked my feet from under me, too .
“I have an idea for the pitch.”
Just a couple of hours later, and we did, in fact, have one helluva proposal coming together nicely.
“This is going to blow them away next week.” I stood, grabbing my stuff, fighting to keep a smile off my face. I liked our pitch, the approach. I liked working with her. I liked her , and I’d missed her so damn much.
“You think?” She was still clicking around on her computer, looking at a few of NCR’s competitors we’d been stalking.
“I’m wondering if we shouldn’t pull a few loose designs together to give them an idea—oh.
You’re leaving?” She’d finally looked up to see me standing, jacket and laptop in hand, just listening to her talk.
“I’m told people usually go home around five. It’s been a refreshing change of pace.”
She stared at me like I’d grown a third head.
“I mean it when I say I’m not the same man you left in Nashville, Angel. Maybe I’ll tell you about it when we talk.”
I waited for a few more seconds, but she just held still, rigid in the frosty silence that suddenly permeated the air.
“Goodnight, Tess. Don’t work too hard.” That, at least, got a reaction. The dry, disbelieving look she shot me made me grin, and the smile held until I walked into the hall.
What would Tess do after work tonight? Where would she go home to? Did she have people she was meeting? Friends? Someone…
I scrubbed my hand over my face, trying to smother that thought into nothingness. I had too many questions—about Tess, and us, and her life .
Soon, maybe, I’d get a chance to ask them. For now, I could be happy with the progress I’d made this afternoon. An empty coffee cup, a few smiles she hadn’t been able to bottle up, and just a bit less stiffness than she’d had towards me a few hours ago.
I was good with that. Happy, even. And I would take those positive feelings with me all the way to my crappy long-term-stay hotel room, where I’d get more work done because I had nothing better to do this weekend.
“Jesus,” I sighed. I’d thought just passing evenings alone in a strange town was bad, but what was I going to do about an entire weekend? I’d already checked out a few restaurants in the little neighborhood I was staying in, but there were only so many times a person could eat.
“That didn’t sound good. You okay?” Meery, Eric’s assistant, smiled from her desk as I passed.
“Yeah, I’m—Actually….” I paused. Meery was nice, friendly. And she knew Chicago better than I did. “You know of a good gym around here?”