Page 6 of Most Likely to Deny Love (Yearbook #2)
JACK
I checked my watch as I stepped into the elevator on the fifth floor and pressed the button.
Seven fifteen. Another long day of meetings with nothing substantial accomplished.
The board continued to talk in circles about Catalyst’s financial situation while avoiding the hard decisions that needed to be made.
When the doors opened on the second floor, I looked up to find Mia Harris waiting, a heavy box of files balanced against her hip. Her usually neat hair was coming loose, and she looked harried. Hot, of course, but also harried.
“Ms. Harris.”
“Mr. Sullivan.” She stepped inside, keeping her eyes forward as the doors closed. The box looked unwieldy in her arms, and I noticed the strain in her shoulders as she tried to maintain her grip.
I nodded toward the box. “Can I take that for you?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you.” Her tone was clipped but polite. She shifted the box higher against her chest. It was obviously way too heavy for her to carry on her own and it took every ounce of self control I had not to just grab it off her.
The elevator resumed its descent, and we stood in professional silence.
I found myself acutely aware of her. Of everything about her.
The subtle vanilla scent of her perfume, that made me want to drag in air.
The way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
How soft her skin looked, making my fingers itch to touch it.
It was unnerving how quickly my attention fixated on these details whenever she was nearby.
Suddenly desperate to fill the silence, I fished around for something to say. “Working late?”
“Just taking some files home to review.” She shifted the box awkwardly again so she could glance at her watch with a slight frown.
“Somewhere to be?”
“Family dinner.” She didn’t elaborate, but her expression suggested it wasn’t something she was looking forward to. I could relate.
We lapsed into silence, then. There was no way I was winning any small talk awards.
The elevator came to a stop, but as the doors opened, Mia stepped forward too quickly. It all happened so fast.
The box tilted in her arms, she gasped, juggling it for a split second. Before I could step forward and catch it, she couldn’t hold on anymore. Papers and folders cascaded to the floor in a multicolored avalanche.
“Fuck,” She burst out, dropping to her knees immediately to gather the scattered documents.
I knelt beside her without hesitation, collecting papers and sorting them by their colored tabs. What the fuck was this? Folders on everyone in her team, with piles of blank forms attached. She was taking this home to work on tonight? For what purpose?
Before I could ask, she snatched the files from my hand and dumped them in the box, her movements quick and flustered. “I’ve got it.”
“Let me help,” I bit out, more than a little impatient.
As she leaned forward to reach for a folder that had slid farther away, I couldn’t help but glance down at the V of her blouse, which gaped open just enough to reveal the lace trim of her bra and the soft curve of her breasts.
Heat rushed through me, and I immediately jerked my gaze away.
Get it together, Sullivan. She’s your employee, for christ’s sake.
Then our fingers brushed as we reached for the folder and my pulse leapt at the simple touch. Mia pulled back instantly, a flush creeping up her neck. I pretended not to notice, focusing instead on the task at hand, waiting for my heart rate to settle.
As the last papers were gathered, I stacked them neatly back into the box. “Heading to your car?”
“Yes.”
I picked up the box before she could argue. “I’ve got it.”
For a moment, she looked like she might argue, then seemed to reconsider. “Thank you.”
We walked through the sliding doors and across the parking lot in yet more silence. The evening air was cool, the sky darkening to deep blue overhead. Security lights cast harsh shadows across the pavement, illuminating our path in intervals of bright white and darkness.
As we approached her little blue honda, my steps slowed. “Your presentation yesterday... The customer archetypes you developed were impressive.”
She glanced up, clearly surprised. “Oh, um, thank you.”
“I’d like to discuss this further. Could you come to my office tomorrow morning? Just whenever you have time?”
Pride flared in her eyes, quickly smothered. “Of course. I’ll bring the complete data set.”
She unlocked her car and opened the trunk. I set the box inside carefully, then stepped back.
“Thank you for your help, Mr. Sullivan.”
“Jack.” The word escaped before I could second guess myself. Something about hearing her call me Mr. Sullivan in the darkness of the parking lot felt wrong.
Her gray eyes widened slightly. “Sorry?”
“After hours, I think we can dispense with formalities.” I kept my tone casual, professional, hiding how much I suddenly wanted to hear my name on her lips. “Unless you prefer them.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” She hesitated, then offered a small smile as she pulled her car door open and slid behind the wheel. “Jack. And it’s Mia, then.”
“Drive safely… Mia.”
“I will. Have a good night. Jack.”
As she drove away, I stood there like an idiot, still feeling the ghost of her fingers against mine. Mr. Sullivan and Ms. Harris would be back tomorrow, but for a few seconds tonight, we’d been Jack and Mia. And damn if I didn’t want more of that.