Page 55 of Not In The Contract

Jean nodded and ran back out, leaving me alone with Devon and the loaded silence that gestated between us. I sighed, glancing at Devon again.

“You,” I said.

Her shoulders twitched in response and she lifted her gaze. “I’m sorry,” she began. “I have no excuse.”

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms, studying her. Devon’s shoulders rounded under the denim jacket she wore, her long chestnut hair twisted in a knot atop her head. She must have sprinted through her usual morning routine, and for some reason the idea of her hopping around trying to get her legs into her pants made me want to smile.

Ridiculous.

“There’s no reason for me to give you shit about it,” I deadpanned. “You know I’m less than pleased with you, there’s no sense in making it worse. Just try not to do it again.”

She blinked owlishly at me, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like I’d fly off the handle because she’d been late. Maybe I would have.

If it weren’t for the work towering over me and breathing down my neck.

“It won’t happen again,” she said quietly.

“Good,” I said, scooting forward. “I imagine you have lectures today?”

I wasn’t sure why I’d asked, but she shook her head anyway. “Today’s my day off,” she explained. “So I’ll be working on my research.”

I paused for a moment, an idea taking hold. “Have I taken you to the orphanage we’re building yet?”

“No,” she said, picking at her nails anxiously.

“Would you like to hear about it?”

“I’d love to.”

I nodded, all too aware of the tug on the corners of my mouth. “We’ll be visiting the site this afternoon,” I told her, opening the files on my computer to show her. “You won’t be able to see much as it’s still in its foundation phase. Literally.”

She huffed a short laugh and leaned forward to get a better look at my screen.

I pointedly looked away, worried my eyes would snag on the slight dimple in her left cheek, or the way her shirt parted ever so slightly with the movement.

“Why did you decide to open an orphanage?”

I considered the question, wondering how to answer before she quickly cut me off, a little frantic.

“Oh wait!” she gasped, bending down to rummage through her bag. “Can I record this, too?”

“Sure.”

I waited for her to set her phone up and for her to give me the okay, which she did with a double thumbs up.

“You wanted to know why I decided to build an orphanage?” I asked, and she nodded.

“Well, more specifically,” she amended, “something more than just the usual wanting to help the children spiel.”

I wrapped my fingers around the coffee, the warmth seeping into my icy hands. I had to get the air conditioning checked.

“How straightforward of you,” I mused, and she blushed. “In all honesty, I’ve wanted to open a childcare facility for about a decade now. At first, it was going to be a children’s hospital.”

“But you changed your mind?”

“I didn’t like the idea of hiring staff I couldn't keep an eye on,” I explained. “Not because I’m a micro-manager, but I’ve heard too many horror stories involving adults who were supposed to care for children and did the opposite. The orphanage offers an additional aspect of control because I can personally vet the employees during the hiring process.”

“That makes sense.” She frowned. “And you decided to construct a building rather than just buying one?”