by Emma Hart
Seriously. What was wrong with her?
“All right, then.” I tugged on my shirt collar, tapped my pants to make sure I had my wallet with me and left her to it.
She started humming as she clicked around on the computer, and I jerked my head back to look at her. I had no idea what she was singing to, but it fit with this weird, over-friendly demeanor she’d had going on all morning.
“Hey, Mallory?”
“Yep?” She looked up at me.
“I believe I promised you dinner for helping me yesterday.”
Something flashed in her eyes. “You do?”
“I do. I owe you dinner. Are you free tonight?”
“I—”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.” I winked and turned before she could turn me down.
Look at that. There was a little of my mother in me after all.
***
I successfully managed to avoid Mallory for the rest of the afternoon thanks to two viewings that took a while for me drive out to.
Now, I was pulling up outside her house, ready to take her to dinner.
I couldn’t lie and say that I was doing this out of the goodness of my hearts. I wanted to spend time with her—as inappropriate as I knew that was—and I wanted to address what had happened at my house.
Her extra niceness was obviously so she could avoid talking about it. Her cheeks had been so red when she’d left, and if I were her, I wouldn’t want to bring it up either.
I honked my horn so she knew I was here. I waited, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel. The clock was ticking, and she still wasn’t coming out. I was half tempted to call her.
The last thing I wanted to do was to go to her front door and get corralled by her family again. I didn’t think her grandpa would be best pleased to see me, and her aunt was sure to question me again.
Fuck.
I checked the clock. If she didn’t come out in another few minutes, I’d bite the bullet and go to the front door.
Unfortunately, sitting here allowed me to get inside my head, namely to ask myself what the fuck I was thinking. Taking my assistant for dinner was a terrible idea. She was young, beautiful, and if she weren’t my assistant, I’d be doing everything I could to get to know her better.
Hell, it looked like that’s what I was doing anyway.
It was dangerous. I knew it was how people fell in love, I knew it was how my parents fell in love, but it was a testy line to walk.
What happened if the relationship didn’t work? Then what? It wasn’t like I could leave my job, and I had no desire to ever fire anyone just because we’d broken up.
Jesus fuck, it was so much easier when Casey was my assistant.
I took a deep breath and checked the clock. Mallory still hadn’t come out, so I blew out the breath and pulled the keys from the ignition.
And braced myself for her aunt.
Maybe that was where Mallory got her hurricane tendencies from.
I locked the car and walked up to the front door. There was some shouting from inside, and I hesitated before I knocked. I didn’t want to interrupt or get in the middle of any family argument.
Before I could make a choice, the door swung open and I came face-to-face with Mallory.
“Quick,” she hissed, pushing me back so I almost tripped down the step. She yanked the door shut and grabbed me, pulling me to the car. “Before she comes out here!”
“Before who comes out?”
“Aunt Grace!” She turned when she got to my car. “Cameron!”
I didn’t know what was going on. I was, honestly, completely and utterly confused, but I did as she wanted. I hurried to the car and went to open the door for her, but she shook her head.
“No time! Let’s go!” She tugged the door open and was in and belted in before I’d even gotten my door open.
The front door of her house opened, and I slipped into the car before anything could happen.
Mallory released a deep breath as I drove away from the car. “Thank you.”
“What the hell was all that?”
She adjusted her purse in her lap and peered over at me. “My aunt thinks you’re trying to date me and wanted to quiz you about your intentions.”
“Thank you for rushing me.”
She laughed. “I told her it was just a business dinner, but she didn’t believe me. Wanted to know why realtors needed business dinners and why you couldn’t function professionally without someone to hold your hand.”
“Wow. She must think highly of me,” I said dryly. “Was that was the fighting was about?”
“Yep. She insisted on you coming in so she could check you out and ask you everything including the size of your penis. She said, and I quote, “Never marry a man with a small penis.””
I choked on thin air. “She said that?”
“That was when I ran. I don’t want to hear anymore.” She shuddered and adjusted so that she could look at me. “So, that’s why I’m late. Also, know a good hotel so I don’t have to go home tonight?”
I recovered, laughing. “It’ll be fine. If you stay out, she’ll just accuse you of sleeping with me.”
“Yeah, you’re right. And if I’m going to be accused of having sex, then I actually want to have it.” She shrugged one shoulder.
I bit back another laugh at her. She seemed to be back to the normal Mallory I knew, and I was glad. The over-happy one had been weird.
I pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot and put the car in park. I could have picked any restaurant in town, but I chose one that wasn’t at the high end of the pricing.
I’d seen her this weekend. I’d paid attention to her as we’d walked around my parents’ house, and she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the ostentatious displays of wealth my mother was used to.
She’d be horrified if she knew that I’d brought a woman to anything less than the best restaurant in town.
Personally, I was happy with a date at McDonald’s. Their burgers were the shit.
I got out of the car, and unlike when we were at her house, Mallory waited and let me open the door for her. It was such a small gesture, but it’d been ingrained in me from a young age to just be polite.
Hell, if someone opened the door for me, I’d be delighted. Nobody ever did that.
“Is this place good?” Mallory asked. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“No. I’m deliberately bringing you somewhere where I know the food is bad.”
“Shut up.” She nudged me as I opened the door to the restaurant and motioned for her to go inside. “You don’t have to do that, you know. The doors.”
“I do.” I gave her a small smile. “It’s called being a gentleman.”
“I know. I just wanted to let you know that you didn’t have to.”
“And I’m telling you that I do. Stop arguing.” I touched my hand to the back and took her to the hostess’ station.
“Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?” The young woman asked me with a bright smile.
It was almost as bright as Mallory’s had been this morning.
“Under Reid,” I replied.
She scanned the book and nodded, picking up two menus. “Please follow me.”
We followed her through the restaurant to a small table in the corner. A single candle burned in the middle of it, and I wished I’d thought to make a point that this wasn’t a date.
Now, it was romantic.
Damn it.
I pulled out the chair for Mallory. She shot me a half-smile, lips just curled up, and took the seat. I knew what she was going to say, so I shook my head and cut her off. She could tell me that I didn’t have to pull her chair out, but here we were.
I did have to.
And I wanted to.
I took my seat and the menu from the hostess. She smiled and said a waitress would be right over, then left us.
“So,” Mallory said, opening the menu in front of her. “What’s the real reason you asked me to have
dinner?”
“You think there’s a reason other than the fact I owe you dinner for helping me out?”
“Yes. Especially since you went all Cordelia Reid on me.” She peered over the top of her menu at me. “Thank you for that.”
I grinned back at her. “All right, there is a reason. I—”
We were interrupted at the moment by the waitress. I ordered a bottle of the house white, not that I’d drink a lot since I was driving, but one glass wouldn’t kill me.
We ordered our food, and as soon as that was done, Mallory pinned me with a sharp gaze.
“Dinner. Why?”
I tapped my fingers against my chin and regarded her. Aside from the blue dress that hugged her stunning figure, her hair was still up in a bun—although a few more wisps of hair framed her face now—and her lips were just as red as they were this morning.
I shrugged one shoulder slowly, sitting back. “For what it’s worth, I did mean that I owed you dinner. You did me a huge favor.”
“It’s my job.”
“No. It’s not your job to run around after me because I forgot to get the files and didn’t plan my morning well enough. It’s your job to answer phones and emails and schedule appointments and make coffee. You helped me a lot, and I appreciate it.”
A light flush ran up her cheeks, and she glanced down. “It’s okay. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Your hair was wet.”
“I’d just gotten out of the shower when you called. It was no big deal.” She shrugged one shoulder and smiled at me. “It wasn’t like you asked me to put on a theatre production. It was just some files.”
“And an unfortunate incident in my kitchen.”
That light flush became one that was a lot darker. “Cameron, I—”
“Look.” I leaned forward, pausing right as the waitress arrived with our wine. I waved for her to pour it and as soon as she had, she left us, allowing me to dive right back into the conversation. “Look—it happened. You’ve been weird all day, and I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep up that silly little happy act you put on.”
“Weird?”
“Yeah. You were all happy this morning.”
“Is it a crime to be happy on a morning?”
“No, but I’ve never seen you be it.” I grinned. “Unless you’ve had two cups of coffee and half your body weight in carbs.”
She gasped, pressing her hand to her chest. “What are you trying to say?”
“That you’re human and you can’t have had all that before you showed up today.”
Groaning, she leaned forward a little. “All right, all right. I see what you’re doing here. You want to talk about the fridge incident.”
I barked a laugh. “Really? We need to refer to it as an incident?”
“Don’t make this more embarrassing than it is.”
“Why are you embarrassed? I’m the one who was practically naked.”
“Because I—” She clamped her mouth shut after that. She shook her head, refusing to say a word as she picked up her wine glass and sipped.
“Mallory. Come on.”
“I can’t.” She held up one hand and met my eyes. “It’s just…awkward, okay? You’re my boss. Maybe if I never had to see you again, I’d be able to tell you, but I can’t.”
I raised one eyebrow. “And you think you can work for me now knowing that I know you have a secret?”
“I don’t—” She paused again, taking a deep breath. She eyed the wine glass as if it had something incredibly interesting inside it. Wine swirled as she tipped it side to side. “I don’t think this dinner is a good idea.”
I held up a hand just like she had to stop her. “The situation was embarrassing. Ignoring it isn’t going to make it any better. I felt awkward, too. But if we’re going to move forward, we have to address it, not ignore it.”
She said nothing, and she still didn’t look at me.
“Mallory, it’s not like you walked in on me in the shower or jerking off or anything. I was in my towel, private areas covered, in my kitchen. It was partially my fault for not realizing that you’re so damn good at your job that you’d take the bull by the horns and get me the information in a heartbeat.”
Finally, she looked back up at me, indecision swirling in her eyes.
“You don’t have to tell me why it’s bothered you so much. Just drop the damn uber-happy act and know that one day, we will revisit this conversation.”
“You aren’t bothered that I practically saw you naked?”
“But was I naked?”
Her lips twitched. “No.”
I held out my hands and grinned. “Then what’s the problem?”
“I guess you’re right.” She visibly swallowed. “There isn’t one. I just—I was worried it would be awkward.”
“It’s only as awkward as you make it. It happened; now we move on. Okay?”
“Okay.” She nodded and pushed some hair behind her ear. “So this was to talk about it?”
I nodded. “I figured you wouldn’t talk about it at work, so I decided to pull the dinner card and make you talk.”
She rolled her eyes, once again picking up her wine glass. “Is that a Reid thing? Making people do what they don’t want to?”
“Only if it doesn’t hurt them.” I winked.
Laughing quietly, she pressed one hand to her mouth and let her giggles fall into her fingers. “Great. Good to know my life isn’t in danger, at least.”
“Nah. Not yet, anyway.”
She quirked a brow, but she smiled, her eyes shining a little. If she was going to say anything, it was cut off by our food being brought, and that was the end of that conversation.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – MALLORY
Our conversation was weighing heavily on me.
Keeping my attraction to Cameron to myself felt wrong. Granted, admitting it probably wasn’t a good idea either, but he knew I was holding something to myself. If I could get it out of my system now before it escalated into something more, then my job was not in jeopardy.
I could deal with it and move on. Part of that involved telling him. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with that, but at least if I did it now, I could carefully choose my words.
I was going to do it. I was determined. I would tell him tonight, here at dinner, that I was attracted to him and had a girly little crush on him, but it wasn’t going to get in the way of my job or affect how I was able to do it.
I was going to be an adult about this situation.
He had to know that my crush was why the fridge incident had bothered me.
I took a deep breath and finished my wine. We’d been long done with our food, and the clock was creeping close to eight-thirty. Between dessert and talking about anything and everything, from school to family to TV shows, the time had quickly passed.
It made it harder to actually tell him that I felt this way. I knew him on a personal level now. I knew that he’d graduated from college with a business degree and been an intern for his dad since he was fourteen, moving onto a paid position when he was eighteen, then to the place he was at now where he was in control of the business even though he didn’t own it.
I knew he loved Game of Thrones, couldn’t stand The Bachelor, and his favorite ever movie was Rocky Balboa.
We’d just…
Inner teenage girl sigh.
He was still my boss. I felt like he was my friend now, to an extent, and that was clearly the professional relationship he wanted us to have. That’d been clear from the start, actually. Sharing lunch, eating breakfast with me—he’d always tried to forge a friendship, and I was happy about that.
Cameron was such a bright, warm person that it was easy to be comfortable around him. More than anything, I wanted to work for him. And to do that, I had to be honest with him about how I was feeling.
That was the adult thing to do.
Clearly, my little miss sunshine act hadn’t fooled him at all.
I sipped my wine and rested
my hands on the table. “Can I tell you something?”
Cameron looked up from the bill, curiosity shining in his blue eyes. “Sure. What’s up?”
“Uh…” I paused, fidgeting with the edge of the napkin in front of me. “What I said earlier wasn’t entirely true.”
“Are you telling me you don’t actually like Harry Potter? Because that could be the nail in the coffin for this.”
I laughed, somewhat nervously. “Oh no, you can pry my love of Harry from my cold, dead, hands. I just—earlier, when we talked about the fridge incident.”
He slipped his credit card into the leather wallet that held the bill. “What about it?”
“I was so embarrassed because I have a crush on you.”
I swear, he froze right at the same time I did. I hadn’t meant to just…vomit it out like that.
I swallowed hard and met his eyes. “I am extremely attracted to you,” I continued. “So seeing you in the kitchen like that was really embarrassing for me. It just reiterated the awkward way I feel about you, and I would really like if we could never speak of this. Ever. Never.”
Slowly, Cameron pushed the leather wallet to the edge of the table, briefly dropping his eyes from me.
Regret pulsed through me.
Why had I said it? Why hadn’t I let it go?
“Well, that explains the overly happy person this morning. By the way, that freaked me the fuck out.” He looked at me. “Don’t do that again.”
My lips twitched.
The server came and took the leather wallet, much to my relief.
“Was that the thing you wouldn’t tell me earlier?”
I nodded. “I didn’t think it was appropriate.”
“What changed your mind?” He looked at me thoughtfully. There was no judgment in his eyes, just genuine, gentle curiosity.
“Clean slate? I don’t know.” I twirled the wine glass between my fingers. “You said we’d have to revisit it, so I thought I’d get it over with now. Besides, I want to be honest with you.” I let go of the glass and sat forward, then quickly sat back.
Sitting forward only reinforced my boobs, and that wasn’t exactly helpful in this situation.
“It’s not going to affect anything,” I said quickly. “It’s just what I said—attraction. It’ll pass. It won’t affect my ability to do my job.”