Page 29 of The Stranger

I spend the rest of the day avoiding my personal receptionist wherever I can. I’ve resorted to sending her emails if I need anything added to her to-do list. It’s immature, but I think space will do us both some good. Lines are becoming blurred, and that’s the last thing either of us needs.

I’ll say one thing though: she’s very proficient at her job and has gone above and beyond with everything I’ve asked of her. You could even overlook the addition to my coffee this morning, but I’ll make sure that doesn’t become a regular. She’ll soon learn I’m a creature of habit—I like what I like—and that’s not about to change anytime soon.

Just after midday, I’m pulled away from my computer screen when there is a knock on my office door. I look up to find Delilah standing on the threshold holding a large brown paper bag. She’s removed her white jacket, and I hate that I notice how well the high-waisted slacks she is wearing hug her narrow hips, only emphasising her hourglass figure.

“I have your Wednesday lunch order, Mr Prescott,”she says. “Pan-seared scallops with a citrus and avocado salad and a lemon caper dressing.”

“Thank you, Miss St. James. You can place it on my desk.”

“Do you always eat so … structurally?”

“What do you mean?”

“I went over the menu for the rest of the month and although there are five different lunches, you eat the same thing every Monday, Tuesday, and so forth.”

I arch a brow. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Not at all … I just find it?—”

“You find it, what?” I snap.

“Weird, predictable … dare I say, boring.”

“I can assure you there is nothing boring about the food I eat.”

“I looked it up online … the colloquial term is mono-luncher.”

“I’m not paying you to psychoanalyse me, Delilah. I have a therapist for that.”

Her pretty blue eyes widen. “You have a therapist?”

“I used to. I haven’t been back in years.”

“Can I ask why?”

“No,” I grumble.

“Does it have anything to do with your father?”

“I’m busy. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

I have to roll my lips to hide my smile when she gasps, spins on her heels, and storms from my office. My amusement only grows when she slams the door behind her.

If nothing else, she’s entertaining.

Chapter 10

Spencer

Delilah has been working for my company for two weeks now, and to be honest, I continue to be impressed with her work ethic. She’s punctual, hard-working, adored by everyone, and is genuinely a nice person to have around—that’s when she’s not pressing my buttons, which is often. That woman challenges me at every turn, but a small part of me also appreciates that quality in her.

On the days she thinks I’m being extra growly, the size of my coffee cup continues to grow, and the liquid gets sweeter. She even began changing things up with my lunch order. They may be subtle things she thinks I don’t notice, but I do.I notice it all.She’s constantly keeping me on my toes and I don’t know what to expect from one day to the next.

She is like a breath of fresh air, and I find that exhilarating—a welcome change from the mundane.

On the flip side, having her so close has allowed me the misfortune of gradually seeing the light in her pretty blue eyes diminish. I’ve stopped asking her how things are at home because she shuts me down whenever I do, butI’ve observed her dejection when she thinks nobody is looking.

I want to help her get out of that place and away from the toxicity, but after the clothes fiasco, I don’t dare. She’s not looking for a handout. It’s something she feels she needs to accomplish on her own, which is admirable. Her family has let her down in the worst possible way, but what she doesn’t realise is I have her back, and so does my mother.