"Hey yourself," I said even though I had never in my life said that phrase. I felt equally cool and dorky when it came out of my mouth.
"I thought you'd be working," he said. There was a smile in his voice.
"I am. I was. I'm just leaving to go on lunch break. Where are you?"
"Heading to meet the driver and then off to the airport. I almost went to lunch with Alec Stone."
"Nu-uh!" I said. "How? When?"
"He's friends with Jimmy. They ran into each other last night and decided to have lunch today."
"Why aren't you going?"
"It would have set my trip back three or four hours, and I'd rather not do that to the pilot. And besides, I need to get home. I have somebody waiting for me over there."
"Who?" I asked. It was a genuine question. I thought for a second that he had a meeting. Plus, I was distracted by a coworker who was waving at me as I walked down the hall toward the elevators.
"Who," Eric said, sounding sarcastic. "Who do you think I'm anxious to see, Olivia?"
"Me?" I asked after a few seconds hesitation.
"Yes, you." The certainty in his voice made me blush.
I smiled and gave a nod to a janitor who was in the elevator when I stepped onto it. I noticed the button for the first floor was already pushed, so I leaned against the wall. Eric just said he skipped lunch with Alex Stone to get home to me, and I felt like I wanted to melt because of it.
"I'm in the elevator," I announced, like a big goober.
"Are you having lunch at Roxy's, or at home?"
I didn't go home every day for lunch, and Eric knew that. It was just far enough away that I was only able to be there for fifteen minutes or so before needing to head back. I walked home frequently when the weather was nice, but not so much in the winter.
"I'm going home today," I said, answering Eric's question. "Jillian called and asked if I would go by there."
"To see if she left the curling iron plugged in?" Eric asked.
It was a running joke that Jillian had OCD about checking her hair styling tools and often had to turn around from where she was headed or call and ask me to go to her room and do it. It was rare that she asked me to leave work to do it, but today had been one of those days.
"The burner," I said. "She made herself a cup of tea when she came home for lunch, and she can't remember if she turned the burner off. She thought I might be going home when she called. I told her I didn't mind."
"Be careful," he said.
He cared about me, I could hear it in his tone.
"I will," I promised.
The elevator came to a stop and I gave a quick grin to the janitor before exiting ahead of him. Eric had said nothing about Elle calling me the night before. I figured there was a chance he had no idea.
"What time do you get home?" I asked as I headed toward the front doors of the building.
"I think we'll land before five," he said. "It'll take at least thirty minutes to get there from the airport at that time of day. I'll just plan on meeting you at your place after work if you want."
"That sounds amazing," I said.
***
I left work five minutes early that afternoon because I wanted to try to get home and shower before Eric came over. I wasn't dirty or sweaty, but it had been a busy day at work, and with going home for lunch, I had taken three walks—four by the time I got home.
Eric had been doing things like going to the Grammys and getting lunch invitations with Alec Stone. I figured the least I could do was shower. It had been a cold, gray day and it was already dark outside when I left work.
I stopped in the lobby so that I could prepare myself for the walk. I tightened the belt on my wool coat and pulled the hood up over my head. I had already put on a knitted hat with a pom-pom and I had to shift and wiggle a little to make my hood fit over it.
The last thing I did was put on my gloves. I stared out the windows, pulling on my gloves and absentmindedly looking through the glass door at a lady in a plaid coat who was walking by.
I had just started walking toward the door to make my way out when I heard his voice.
"Olivia."
It was my name, plain as day, and I knew it was Eric who said it. My head whipped around, and there he was. Mister Hollywood himself. I was in the building's lobby and he stood in the doorway that led to Roxy's, smiling and tilting his head playfully at me.
"What are you doing?" I asked, staring at him with wide eyes.
"I've been standing here, thinking you were going to turn and see me. I thought you would come in for something warm on your way out."
I glanced into Roxy's. Two people were behind the counter, Brandon and Carly, and both of them were looking our way. Eric had come to the shop twice while I was working, but no one had any idea that we had been seeing each other. Everyone assumed he had come by to talk to me about the lucky cup promotion. This time, however, I wasn't even working at Roxy's, and Eric had run into the lobby to catch me on my way out. Brandon and Carly were obviously curious about it.
I barely spared them a glance, though. My gaze went straight back to Eric. I had missed him something awful. I wanted to run into his arms. He was dressed with that casual sharpness I had come to love. Jeans with a casual shirt and a sporty jacket. He had on a baseball cap today. I had seen him in a cap a few other times, and I loved how it looked on him. This one was a worn-out cap with a vintage-looking Knicks logo. He was perfect.
"What are you doing here?" I asked. My hood was pushing my hat down over my eyes, and I tilted my head upward and reached up to push my hat back.
"Come inside," he said, grinning.
"Really?" I asked a bit stiffly.
"Yes. Why not? I can get you something free."
"Yeah, but I work here," I said, quietly enough that I had no chance of being overheard. "If you get me something for free, my coworkers will notice. They might think you're showing favoritism."
He stared at me. "I am showing favoritism," he said, unrepentantly. "You're clearly my favorite."
I smiled and shook my head at how irresistible he was. He urged me with a flick of his head to follow him inside and I did.
We had no work uniforms at Roxy's.
Our aprons were one of a kind as well. There was a lady who made them all. We got to choose a style and fabric, and she sewed them. For thirty dollars, we could buy more than one from her and have options. Brandon had on all black with a black apron like he always wore. This was a stark contrast to Carly, in her vintage inspired, knee-length, full-skirted, brightly patterned dress and ruffled apron. She looked like she was about to star in a movie set in the fifties.
"Hey Olivia," she said as we crossed the dining room headed toward the counter. It was fairly busy in there, but Brandon and Carly weren't helping customers at the moment, and there were open spots at the counter.
"Hey," I said, heading that way. I was friends with Carly. I worked the Saturday morning shift with her, and we always got along great. I didn't, however, tell her I had been seeing Eric. I could see the curiosity in her expression as we approached. He and I crossed to sit at the counter. I took off my gloves and hood, but I left on my hat and coat since I didn't think we were staying.
"That flyer went up about the lucky cups," Carly said. She nudged her chin to the register where Janet's flier was posted on a stand, and I glanced over there, smiling.
"I know, it's cool. I'm excited."
"Who knew those lucky cups would become a thing?" she said.
"I did," Eric said.
I smiled at him, and he reached out and pulled the stool out for me. I sat down, but I was a little stiff about it since it was a very chivalrous move on his part.
"Thank you," I said as I sat.
Brandon was nervous around Eric, and he went to work, wiping and scrubbing.
"What can I get you?" Carly asked, seeming more confident and comfortable than Brandon.
"I'll have some green tea," I said.
She nodded. "Steamed milk?"
"Please."
Carly went to work making my drink. I wondered why she wasn't offering to make Eric something, but then I realized there was a drink sitting in front of him. I wondered how long he had been sitting there and what he did when he saw me walking through the lobby.
Carly must have been having the same thoughts I was because she said, "I was wondering why Eric ran over there to catch you, but then Brandon reminded me about the lucky cups. At first, I thought maybe he thought you were supposed to be working tonight."
"I knew she wasn't working tonight," Eric said. "I knew she was getting off work upstairs. I was trying to catch her before she left the building."
Carly nodded and began steaming milk for my tea. I saw him look at me from the corner of my eye, so I glanced his way. That cap was too much. It caused a shadow to fall over his eyes, but they still sparkled. He was masculine and handsome. I was so relieved to see him. I was in over my head. I got lost staring at him. He was staring at me, too. He shifted on his barstool, and when he did our knees made contact.
"I, uh, have to talk to you. Do you have a minute? It's about doing that series of cups. I wanted to discuss… cup… stuff... with you."
"Sure," I said, trying not to smile. "Do you mean now?"
Carly discreetly slid a cup of tea my way, and I glanced at her with a thankful expression, trying to seem casual. "Thank you," I said to her, adding to my fake nonchalance.
A group of about four customers had just come to the door and were in the process of walking up to the register. I was thankful they were there to distract Carly and Brandon. I could smell Eric, for goodness sake. His hand was propped on the counter, and I stared at the side of it—at the light dusting of hair that grew in perfect patches on the backside of his hand. Perfect patches of hand hair? What in the world was I thinking? How was it possible to be attracted to every little thing about someone?
Suddenly, Eric shifted and got to his feet, clearing his throat. "I'll just talk to you about it right now," Eric said. "They've got customers out here so let's just step into the office for a minute."
He was talking to me, but he was obviously saying it for the benefit of Carla and Brandon.
"Sure," I said, getting to my feet with a businesslike nod.
Chapter 17
The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. I never understood that phrase before, but I got it now. In those moments as Eric and I gathered our things and headed back toward the office, the air between us was charged—it was thick with tension and attraction.
He touched me a couple of times while we walked along the counter, behind the customers, and toward the hallway that would lead us to the offices. As we moved, I realized that my body was alive with some kind of electrical feeling. The office was a large shared space with an L-shaped desk in the corner that everyone considered to be Belinda's. There was also a couch and armchair off to one side, and a small table with two chairs. That was where I had sat to do my job interview.
Eric took my hand as soon as we went through the threshold to the office. He moved around me, taking the tea out of my hand and setting it on a nearby bookshelf. He was empty handed and making good use of all his extremities. He set down my tea while at the same time kicking the door closed with his foot.
In one fluid motion, he took me over to the desk and turned me in his arms. He positioned himself leaning against the desk, propping most of his weight onto the top of it as he pulled me close. He hadn't let go of me since we entered the room. He drew me near, cradling me, one arm behind my head the other behind my waist. Eric gazed at me like I was something precious to him. He held me the way I wanted to be held, which was pretty much magical to experience.
He ducked his head, shifting so that he could bury his nose in my neck. He took a long breath in through his nose, and there was nothing I could do but smile because I knew he was sniffing me—smelling me.
He pulled back, shifting, holding me with both arms around my waist and looking straight at me. His cap had popped up while he had his face buried, and he took a second to readjust it.
"Hi," I said, since we were finally alone.
"Hello, Olivia."
"You're here."
"I am."
"And we're at Roxy's," I said.
"Yep. And I didn't really want to talk to you about promotional items."
"You didn't?" I asked faking surprise.
"No." He stared at me. "I just want to talk to you, look at you, say hello to you without everybody looking at us."
I glanced down at my chest, at the fact that he was holding me close. "This is some hello," I said.
"What did you do while I was away?" he asked, staring at me and looking content and curious.
"I painted with acrylics, which I never do. I had to go to the craft store to buy paint and canvases. I went to my mom's, too, and I made a couple of lucky cups, and different things like that, but I painted a lot."
"What'd you paint?"
"Summer-y looking stuff. Fun stuff. Toys and popsicles. I did these cool color schemes with pastels but also dark blues and purples. I painted some of the popsicles in a plastic tube, do you remember those?"
Eric nodded. "I do," he said, gazing at me, looking at my mouth, making my heart pound. "I want to see your popsicle painting."
"I did three of them. They're not quite done. I'm still adding layers and finishing touches."
"Three paintings?"
I nodded. "I saw you on TV," I said.
"You watched?"
"Not the whole show," I said. "But I had it on in the background and I looked for you enough that I found you in the crowd." I gazed at his face. "You were handsome. I was proud of you," I said, slowly. "Was it fun?"
He nodded. "It was pretty good," he said. "I saw a bunch of famous people. If that does it for you, then it was great."
"That is pretty cool," I said.
"I wish I was watching you paint," he said.
I smiled and shook my head. "No, you don't. That would be boring compared to what you did."
"It would not," he said with a completely serious expression. "I'm tired. I would love to go lay on your couch while you paint a popsicle."
"If you're on my couch, I would probably want to paint you and not a popsicle," I said.
"Let's go do that right now," he said, completely serious.
I grinned at him. I glanced at the door, which was still cracked.
"Don't worry about them," he said.
"How can't I? I work here. What if they come back here?"
"They won't," he said. "And, so what if they do? I'm their boss, remember? Just don't work here if it's awkward for you."
"Yeah, but I like it," I said. "I like the spending money and the free cup of coffee every day."
"If it's about money or free coffee, then quit and I will give those things to you. I'll hire you to paint popsicles for me. If you want to work here, I won't ask you to stop, but people are just going to have to get used to seeing us together. I'm not trying to come in here and pretend to talk to you about lucky cups. I missed you too much for that."
Eric saying he missed me made me think about his trip, which made me think of Elle and our phone conversation.
"Your friend called me," I said.
"Who?" his eyebrows furrowed, and his expression made it seem like he was a little jealous—like he thought it was a guy who called me.
"Elle," I said.
"Elle? When?"
"Last night," I said. "I wasn't even going to mention it. I probably shouldn't have. It was no big deal."
"Wait, when did she call you?"
"Last night," I repeated.
"I know, but how? From my phone? And when?"
I shrugged. "It wasn't too late. I think you were still hanging out with her. It was loud and there was music and everything. It might've been something going on after the show."
"How did she call you?" he asked.
"From your phone."
Eric made a contemplative, frustrated face as he slowly ducked his head and switched his hat from forward-facing to backwards. I didn't expect for him to do that, and I held back a grin at the sight. He looked gorgeous in a backwards hat and the best part about it was that he did it because he was feeling irritated and speechless about his friend calling me.
"Tell me exactly what she said to you," he said once his hat was settled in its new position.
"She just said that she wanted to call to make sure I exist. She sounded like she was partying. There was definitely a lot of music. She was talking to someone else in the background."
"I'm really sorry about that," he said. "Did it wake you up?"
"No. And it was no big deal. She told me not to tell you she did it, so don't mention it to her."
"She said that? She told you not to tell me she called you?"
"Yes," I said with a reassuring smile, "But it's honestly not worth you mentioning it to her. Seriously, I'd rather you not."
He adjusted, making his arms comfortable around me and not caring one bit that someone could possibly come into the room and catch us.
"Did you have any sort of feelings about it?" Eric asked. "Did it make you mad at me?" He brought his hand to the back of my head again, cradling it, staring at me. His fingers were on the back of my head and his thumb played absentmindedly on my cheek.
"I wasn't mad," I said. "I mean, I got jealous a little bit, but not mad."
"You were jealous?" he asked, his mouth curving upward slightly.
I stared at him unashamedly. He was completely irresistible in that backward baseball cap. "Yes, I was jealous," I said. "But I figured if I can't trust you then what am I doing liking you, anyway? And if you're going to try to mess around, it's better that I figure it out now."
"Oh, really, so how'd I do?" he asked, his white teeth flashing at me when he smiled.
"You tell me," I said. "I wasn't there."
His eyes stayed locked on mine for a few silent seconds. He leaned against the desk, pulling me close, looking at me. "I thought about you the entire time, Olivia Tanner. You never left my mind. I could not get you out of my head, even when I tried."
Me & Mister Everything: A Romance (Tanner Family Book 4) Page 11