Page 64 of Palm South University: Season 3
“HAVE A GOOD THANKSGIVING,” Hannah, one of the other interns, says to me as she hooks her messenger bag on her shoulder. “Can’t wait to hear about the trip!”
I smile, my stomach doing a backflip at the mention of the trip with Brandon. It’s the last Friday in the office before the holiday, though we don’t leave for Atlanta until Tuesday. The rest of the office has the entire week off until the Monday after the holiday.
“Thanks, Hannah. Enjoy your holiday, too.”
When she’s gone, Kimberly pushes her chair in under her desk and turns to me with a tight smile. “Yeah, can’t wait to hear about the trip. You must besoexcited.”
She narrows her eyes, but it doesn’t take her resting bitch face for me to know how she feels about me. She hasn’t been the least bit shy in telling everyone exactly why she thinks I got invited on the trip, along with the lead event planner position. But the gossip she’s spreading about me “sleeping my way to the top” doesn’t faze me. My dad prepared me for this over the summer — the way others would react to someone who was driven to succeed. And being that I’m a woman, being successful usually means I’ll either be painted as a slut or a bitch, depending on my leadership style.
Still, I can’t help but feel a little uneasy as Brandon comes up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder, Kimberly’s eyes glued to the spot where he’s touching my bare skin. Because the truth is that while I may not be sleeping with him on a mission, I am attracted to him. And we did cross a line.
One that seems completely nonexistent now.
“Can I speak with you before you leave, Miss Daniels?” Brandon asks, voice commanding attention as always.
Kimberly purses her lips, cocking one eyebrow at me like she has me all figured out before snatching her blazer off the back of her chair and swinging it over her arm. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mr. Church,” she says as she passes, and I close my eyes tight before turning to face him.
“Yes, Mr. Church?” I ask, looking up at him from my chair.
The corner of his mouth twitches a bit at the sound of his name as he casually puts his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “I just wanted to make sure you have the itinerary and everything else you need for our trip on Tuesday.”
I hold up the folder Mykayla left with me earlier. “All set. I have a dress for the award ceremony and business attire for the conference. I also printed out a few copies of your speech, just in case we need it to review or anything.” His eyes widen just slightly at that. “I haven’t read it,” I assure him.
Brandon relaxes a bit, nodding. “Okay, then. Be at the hangar at four sharp on Tuesday afternoon. They’ll have light snacks and refreshments on the jet but we’ll have dinner once we’ve landed in Atlanta.”
I swallow, still a little freaked out that I’ll be riding in his private jet. “Sounds good. I won’t be late.”
Brandon just watches me then, his eyes flicking down to where my legs are crossed, exposed in the pencil skirt I’m wearing, before he lazily pulls his gaze back up to my own. “Looking forward to it.”
My skin burns from where his eyes just roamed and I squirm in my chair, uncrossing my legs just to cross them the other way. He smirks, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, before finally turning for the elevators.
“Don’t stay all night,” he throws back behind him. “I’ve already got you working on a holiday week. At least take the full weekend off.”
I relax just a hair, smiling. “I’m out of here in ten. Promise.”
He pushes the down arrow for the elevators, tossing me a wink before the doors slide open and he steps on, leaving me and a few girls in Corporate Relations as the last ones in the office.
The tension between us since our date at the auto racing track has been like an electric wire pulled taut, threatening to break and spark a fire at the slightest contact. Every look he’s cast in my direction during meetings, his gaze always hard and steady, seems to pull it tighter and tighter, the coils stretched to their limits.
Something tells me when those doors close on that private jet, leaving just the two of us alone again, we won’t have a chance in hell of keeping it from snapping.
A few hours later, Jess tries unsuccessfully to catch a kernel of popcorn in her mouth after launching it up in the air. It hits her nose and bounces to the floor next to Skyler’s freshly painted toenails and Jess eyes it for a moment before shrugging and digging into the bowl again.
“I’m so glad we decided to do this,” Skyler says, blowing on her turquoise nails. We’re all sprawled out in the floor space between the two beds in her and Jess’s room, mountains of pillows and blankets surrounding us along with three bottles of wine we smuggled in and an ungodly amount of junk food. “It feels like it’s been forever since we had a girls’ night.”
“It has been,” Erin agrees. “I mean between me preparing for the election, you racking up money to pay the entry fee for that poker tournament, Ashlei spending all her time at her internship and Jess loading up her plate with extra classes since she switched her major, none of us have had a free Friday since the semester started.”
“I just wish Cassie was here, too,” I say, still clicking through the movies on the small TV in the corner near Skyler’s bed.
“I know. Poor thing, midterms have her so stressed out. She’s been at the Greek library every night for the past two weeks and her last midterm isn’t untilWednesday,” Skyler says.
“The day before Thanksgiving? What a dick professor!” Jess shakes her head. “Shouldn’t even be allowed. I’m already done with mine.”
“Is that why you’ve been in a better mood?” I ask, settling onPretty Womanand pushing the play button on the remote. “Or did you and a certain tattooed hottie make up?”
She sighs, tucking her knees up to her chest and shoving another handful of popcorn in her mouth. “It’s not his fault he got put on another project so soon. Well,” she clarifies, swallowing. “I guesstechnicallyit is, because he’s so damn good at his job. But I know he wouldn’t have cancelled unless he absolutely had to. It’s hard right now,” she admits. “But I love him and I know he loves me, so I’m just trying to focus on that.”
“Good girl,” Erin says.