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Reaching Gavin (Good Girls Don't Book 3)

Page 9

by Geneva Lee


  I held up a hand. “No. I need to do this alone.”

  Gavin sat back in his chair, his shoulders slumping, and frowned. “I understand.”

  I didn’t wait for him to ask me what was wrong. There was no need to confide in each other about this. We had almost taken things too far, and I just put a stop to that. He knew I wasn’t on the market. I’d told him. We’d both needed a little reminder of that.

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” Imogen added softly. I gave her a small smile before backing out of the office.

  I wondered briefly if he had talked about me to her and what she must think of me after that bold intrusion, but it didn’t matter. Because I wouldn’t be getting to know Imogen outside this office. Because I’d made my choice. Because Gavin North and Cassie Hart were colleagues and nothing more.

  Chapter Ten

  I buried myself in work. I’d gone well past workaholic and straight into I live, I breathe, I work. When I wasn’t in my cubicle, ignoring every living soul around me and researching the ins and outs of the proposal I finally decided upon, I was at Sound Coffee. Having an in with one of the managers meant that I could set up shop and stay there for hours without anyone asking me to leave. It had become my unofficial office but with ready access to copious amounts of caffeine.

  All the time I was putting into my proposal, two weeks’ worth of effort, was finally starting to pan out. I was less than a month away from the presentation that could decide my fate. Waiting on permits had scored me more time to get things together. Gavin had been so busy with the planning and building commissions that the most I’d heard from him were short emails updating me on the status of the project. Impersonal ones at that, given that they were addressed to the entire office. He kept his distance and I had kept mine. Hopefully, in a few weeks, the sacrifice would prove worth it.

  I had no idea what Trevor was working on, but if he was staying up late at night working, he wasn’t doing it in the office or at the coffee shop. I never saw him after hours when I was burning the midnight oil. All the better, because Sound Coffee had begun to feel like my second home. I felt content in the café surrounded on all sides by, but still protected from, the bustling street life of Seattle. Even its industrial chic decor had begun to grow on me.

  “You know it’s Friday night, right?” Danny sat down at the seat across from me and peered at the piles of notes on the table. By the end of this, he should get a job at NorthWest Investments. I felt like his steady supply of caffeination had gotten me through this project and would be necessary for years to come.

  I offered him a rueful smile and kept typing. “Ain’t no rest for the wicked.”

  “Don’t I know that,” he said, leaning back in the chair and spreading his legs, “but even I’m taking off in a few.”

  I glanced at my watch in alarm and saw that it was only 7 o’clock. “You aren’t closing?”

  “Don’t worry. They know to take care of you.” He nodded toward the baristas still behind the bar. I knew each of them by name now, but that wasn’t the reason I was alarmed. Danny had become a comforting presence in my life. There was no pressure. No expectation. But there was coffee. In a way, it was the healthiest relationship I’d had in a long time. No taking just giving. Unless, of course, you looked at it from his perspective. I was usually taking. Taking up space. Taking coffee. Taking free refills. He never complained though. “How’s it going?”

  I kept him apprised of my various ideas, and he’d offered suggestions along the way. Most of them hadn’t been very helpful, but it was pretty sweet.

  “I think I’ve nailed down the exhibit aspect,” I told him, “and if I can just figure out the screenings, then I’ll be gold.”

  “If anyone can do it, you can.” He gave me a beatific grin, the one that had become such an important part of my daily routine.

  I didn’t feel any differently about Danny exactly. He was still Mr. Nice Guy. Still the dependable one. No, I didn’t find my engines revving at the sight of him. But there was something reassuring about his presence. Maybe I’d discounted him. Maybe I should’ve given it a chance to see if it could have become something more. To his credit, he never acted like my late-night work sessions were anything more than a friend sitting in his café. Maybe I owed him more than that. The trouble was that even when I actively tried to consider Danny as an option, all I could think about was Gavin. Despite weeks of keeping my distance, even the slightest thought of him sent me into a tailspin. I’d never be able to give Danny a fair shot.

  I’d begun to wonder if nailing this presentation was the best idea after all. How would I feel about Gavin in a few months? Would my initial interest have cooled off? Or would I still be battling this wild interest?

  “So are you hoping to get a job there?” Danny asked, tipping his head in the direction of my office building.

  I shrugged my shoulders, wondering how he’d managed to hit on exactly what was preoccupying me. But Danny was just perceptive like that, another Mr. Nice Guy trait. “I don’t know. I want to do a good job though. It could be a great reference.”

  There. That’s how I needed to think of this. Maybe a future with NorthWest Investments wasn’t my wisest choice, but having them to give me a good recommendation could make all the difference. It was just the fuel I needed to keep the weekend fires burning. I was so close to figuring out the last part of this PR puzzle.

  “Hey, I have a question for you.” Danny leaned across the table, lowering his voice.

  My stomach did a nervous little flip. If he asked me out, would I say yes? I considered it. I tried to talk myself into it. But with a sinking feeling I realized that no matter how much I wanted to want Danny, it would never happen. “Okay.”

  He reached below the table and I froze. Then he pulled out the last thing I expected. A ring box.

  I didn’t know what to say. I was pretty certain that I hadn’t been leading him on to this level.

  “I’m going to ask my girlfriend to marry me,” he began, and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He paused, looking momentarily confused, but I waved him on. “I can’t decide between the top of the Space Needle or on the big Ferris wheel.”

  “How sure are you that she’s going to say yes?” I said without thinking. I could score points for my spontaneous idiocy. The last thing Danny needed to worry about was whether she would say yes or not.

  Danny only chuckled. “Pretty sure.”

  “Good,” I said with a relieved smile. “I wouldn’t want to be stuck on a Ferris wheel with someone who’d said no.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted. “I just saw that Prince did it in London and I thought it was a pretty good idea.”

  “Yeah, but it should be more meaningful to you. Which one of those places has more meaning?” I asked him.

  Danny thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. “Neither really. We haven’t gone to either place. I just wanted a big, romantic gesture.”

  “Let me tell you a secret,” I whispered, so it might have more impact. “Most girls don’t want a big gesture. Most girls want to see that you remembered the small things.”

  “Small things, huh?”

  “Like where did you meet? Or is there a special place to you? When did you first realize you fell in love with her?” I asked him, hoping I inspired some smaller, more intimate romantic gesture.

  “Cassie, you’re a genius!” He didn’t share any answers because at that moment he stood up, almost knocking over his chair as he waved excitedly at the door. It was boyish and charming and part of me melted a little.

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw a petite blonde looking around the café. Judging by the way she grinned when she saw him, he was right about the answer he was going to get. She practically skipped over and gave him a big kiss.

  “You ready?”

  “Tracy meet Cassie.” He didn’t bother to explain that I was his ex, which I was glad for. It didn’t really seem necessary.

 
I stuck out my hand and smiled back at her.

  “Let me go lose this apron and then I’ll be with you.”

  Danny abandoned us, and to my surprise, Tracy plopped down into the seat he just left behind.

  “How do you know Danny?” she asked, blinking at me innocently. Did I lie? Or did I come clean? My hesitation must’ve been enough, because she giggled. “Oh wait! Cassie. You two used to date.” She said this like it was a matter of fact and not all something that bothered her. I nodded.

  “Like 1 million years ago,” I said.

  “He told me about you. He said you were just better at being friends,” she repeated as if she had memorized it.

  “Yeah. I guess that’s true,” I said. We were really, now that I thought about it. I’d been so obsessed with whether he was still interested, I’d missed that we’d clearly exited to Friend Avenue. At least, it was one less thing to worry about and my java fix wasn’t in jeopardy.

  “Danny is my best friend,” she said dreamily as if she wasn’t in the same room as me anymore.

  “I thought you two were dating,” I said, momentarily confused.

  Tracy perked up. “We are. I mean that’s love. Being with your best friend. I can be myself around him.”

  “That sounds… amazing,” I finished. It really did. None of my romantic relationships had ever achieved best friend status. I thought to my two best friends and how little they came to me with their problems now. They were still around when I needed them, but they both had new best friends now I realized.

  “It is,” she sighed. “And he’s super hot.”

  I laughed at this. Tracy didn’t strike me as the jealous type, so I added, “He is pretty cute.”

  Danny reappeared, and Tracy popped up to meet him. They were holding hands before I could blink my eyes. The love between the two radiated off them. I had never seen something so obvious in my life. No matter where he decided to ask her—even if he dropped to his knee right here and now in front of his ex-girlfriend, I knew what her answer would be. Somehow it even made me believe that true love was a possibility.

  “Have a good night!” I called after them. My eyes lingered on the door long after they had left.

  Danny hadn’t been the guy for me. I had always known that, but I never really stopped to consider what Tracy had said about love and friendship. Maybe that was the one ingredient I’d always been missing. I dated guys but I had never really been friends with one of my boyfriends before. It was dates and sex and work, but we didn’t hang out. Watching the two of them together, hearing how they talked about each other, that was what I wanted.

  I’d be an idiot to settle for anything less.

  Chapter Eleven

  After the world’s most adorable couple left the coffee shop, I couldn’t focus. Maybe it was the happiness lingering in the air. It was like being really hungry and smelling something delicious that I couldn’t have. I needed a change of scenery to clear my head.

  The conference room at NorthWest Investments was naturally empty on a Friday night, so I seized the opportunity and spread out all of my notes, plugged in my laptop, and got to work. The meeting space had the added benefit of a large white board I could use. I just had to remember to erase it when I was done or run the risk of ruining my surprise presentation. Grabbing a couple of different colored dry-erase markers, I began to make notes on the first element of my soon-to-be winning proposal. I wanted to showcase the history of the Majestic Theatre first, then I needed strong community programming in order to help the residents feel like a part of the process. It would take some careful planning with the development and building departments to make sure everything went off without a hitch timing-wise. Given that this project would probably drag into the fall semester, I was a bit nervous that I might not be around to see it through. Still, when I stood back and surveyed my ideas as part of the big picture, I was pleased. Seeing them like this made all the difference. Usually, I had dozens of scattered notes and computer spreadsheets, but I’d never looked at it as a whole.

  “This is going to work,” I whispered to myself as a tremble of excitement raced through me.

  “It just might,” Gavin said from behind me.

  I startled, whirling around to face the intruder. Gavin was no longer in his business attire—the navy blue suit that he’d worn to the office today. Not that I had been paying attention. Now he was dressed down in a pair of dark washed jeans that hung on his hips and a black V-neck that clung to his torso. No wonder he always wore suits to the office. Dressed down he didn’t look like the CEO of a major real estate investment group, he looked like the kind of guy you saw at a bar and made eye contact with—the kind of guy you hoped bought a drink for you. The kind of guy you might buy a drink for yourself. I realized I was gawking, my hand pressed to my chest, my heart still racing, but no longer because of surprise. Possibly because I’d stopped breathing.

  He’d seen my notes. The thought filtered through my oxygen-deprived brain, and I angled my body to try to shield the whiteboard, suddenly self-conscious of the fact that he was looking at all my plans. “You aren’t supposed to see this yet.”

  “What does a guy have to do to get a little peek?” he asked. I got the distinct impression he wasn’t talking about my plans for the Majestic Theater.

  It was Friday night and I was alone in the office with Gavin North. Gavin North, who didn’t look like my boss, who wasn’t acting like my boss, who I didn’t want to be my boss. I wanted to show him a lot more than my project proposal, but I planted my feet and my resolve. “Once the permits are in and I can officially present, then you’ll get to see—along with everyone else.”

  He moved a few steps closer, but he didn’t try to look over my shoulder at the board. “Maybe I can give you a few helpful suggestions.”

  I wouldn’t mind if you gave me a few, helpful orgasms, I thought to myself. It took a fair bit of moxie to keep that suggestion in my head and off my tongue. I wasn’t usually the girl that shrunk back and waited for a guy to make the move. Usually, I went after what I wanted. There was no denying that I wanted him. Now, I not only wasn’t going after him, I was actively avoiding him. Or I had been. Avoiding him was a little harder to do with him standing alone with me in a room, especially while he made suggestive comments.

  “I’m sure you have something better to do on a Friday night,” I said, hoping he would take the hint. Or someone better to do.

  I hoped that he wasn’t on his way to a date. But why else would he still be in his office? Why would he be so dressed down? Why couldn’t I stop wondering about him? My heart plunged like an anchor into my stomach where the sinking feeling continued to grow.

  “I do have plans. The better question is: why don’t you?” he asked.

  “I do,” I lied unconvincingly. “I have a hot date with a sailor.”

  I had absolutely no idea why I had said that. Maybe it was because I was working on the Majestic Theater and my only good photo of it in its heyday was while South Pacific was showing. Maybe it was the proximity of the Puget Sound. Maybe I had officially lost my damn mind.

  Now, I didn’t just look pathetic for being at work so late, I also looked crazy.

  “A sailor?” Gavin bit down on his lower lip without further comment. The gesture was enough.

  “Why is that so strange? We live near the ocean. There are lots of sailors here.” Apparently, I wasn’t only going to toss a lie out there, I was going to go all in on it as well.

  “I’m sure there are,” Gavin said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What’s his name?”

  “His name? His name is…um,” I searched for any answer I could come up with. Any name. My mind was a total blank. I had forgotten every name in the blessed world except two. I didn’t dare say Gavin, so I said the other, “The Majestic Theater.”

  It was a relief to let go of the ridiculous story. Even if it left me feeling a little silly.

  “That’s what I thought. Come on. Grab your bag.” Gav
in walked past me and picked up the eraser perched on the board’s ledge.

  “What are you doing?” I shrieked.

  “I assume you don’t want everyone to see your proposal.” He began erasing it without waiting for an answer.

  “Including you!” I snatched at the eraser, but he held it out of reach.

  “Calm down. I had it memorized the moment I saw the board.” He tapped his forehead with his free hand. “Photographic memory.”

  That was hardly playing fair. I let him continue, but I didn’t gather my things. When he finished, he turned around and waited.

  “Do you need help packing that up?” he asked.

  “What, you aren’t going to do it for me?” I asked dryly.

  He shook his head. “No way. My mama taught me to never to go into a woman’s purse.”

  “I’ve still got a lot to do,” I hedged. I’d begun to eye my belongings. It would only take a few minutes to pack up, but I shouldn’t.

  “Not on a Friday night.”

  “Gavin, I just don’t think it’s a good idea”—

  He cut me off, “I’m heading out to dinner with my sister. You can grill her on what the preservation committee’s beef is with our plans for the theater.”

  That changed things. I started stacking my notes into a pile and shoving them into my overworked Kate Spade bag. Then, I paused. “Isn’t that kind of cheating?”

  “Your best friend Trevor has been tagging along to any meeting that isn’t closed doors. Without an invite. I think it’s okay for you to get a leg up, too.”

  I narrowed my eyes, but then returned to the task at hand. I was packed up in a matter of twenty seconds. I shrugged my bag onto my shoulder and turned to him, “Where are we going?”

  He didn’t answer, he only grinned.

  This wasn’t what I expected. When Gavin told me he was having dinner with his sister, I’d expected a fancy, formal dining room or a trendy, new restaurant. Instead, we were jammed into the back booth of a Cheesy Pete’s. The restaurant, which catered to adults who wanted to act like children for a few hours, was a West Coast staple. Growing up I had gone to the family-friendly versions aimed at actual kids, but I had never been to one of these.

 

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