by Laura Pavlov
I dropped my things on the desk, as I’d wanted to get here early, per Layla’s suggestion. She said he always arrived before everyone else, and it would be best to get there at the same time. It would give him no reason to call and bother Layla.
“Layla? Are you back?” I heard him call out from his office, and I rolled my eyes. I dropped my coat on the back of my chair and made my way into his office carrying a Starbucks coffee for him. I was much happier getting a coffee for Beeves, but if I needed to kiss a little ass, I wasn’t above it. Layla said it wasn’t necessary, but I said I’d be stopping anyway, and she thought it might win me some brownie points. If I could make my life easier these next few weeks, I wasn’t against it. Plus, I took a little pleasure in the fact that my father was paying for a Carlisle’s coffee. The man would spit nails if he knew I’d bought Crew a coffee.
“Layla is in Chicago.” I set the coffee on his desk and crossed my arms across my chest as he stared at me with disbelief.
“How do you know how I take my coffee?” He raised a brow. He really was a beautiful man, if only he’d keep his mouth closed. He was tall and lean, his dark hair was thick and cut close to his head, and those green eyes would be mesmerizing on anyone else.
“I assumed you took it black.” To match your cold, jaded heart.
His lips twitched as if he could read my mind. “I do. Coffee isn’t part of your responsibilities though. I was kidding when I told Layla to have you bring me a coffee. My mother would smack me upside the head if she thought I had you grabbing my coffee in the morning.”
“I’ve always liked your mom,” I said, and his shoulders stiffened.
Yes. Our families hated one another. But Crew’s mother had always been kind to me. She’d always stopped to buy lemonade when I’d set up a table in front of our house. She’d wave at me when I ran into her in town. I think she thought the grudge was stupid. I wish I could say the same about my parents. My father’s hatred for Crew’s family ran as deep as the roots of the old oak trees in front of our home. And if Dad hated the Carlisles, then so did Mama. She was loyal to a fault.
“What’s not to like?” He smirked. “All right. We have a busy day. I need several emails sent and my meetings are back-to-back, so I’ll need you to be watching the clock. Layla makes sure the meetings end on time and we don’t keep clients waiting. Did she go over that with you? Can you handle that?”
I forced myself not to react. To be a professional. I’d spoken to Layla about every single detail. I was about to graduate from the University of Dallas, magna cum laude. I could handle juggling a few meetings.
“I’m on it.”
“You need to be. This is a trial basis. I’m not against bringing in a temp. Layla works long hours, and I know you have class at night. If you can’t swing it, you need to let me know now. I can’t have my office fall apart because you have a sorority dinner to attend,” he hissed.
The man was going to give me whiplash. He was actually being human for a brief moment before turning back into the broody jackass that he was.
I took three breaths before letting out a long one. Thank you, Beeves. I knew Crew was looking for any reason to let me go, and I wouldn’t give it to him.
“I assure you I’m one-hundred percent on board. I’ll work the same hours as you if necessary. My lectures are remote. My counselor is aware of the responsibility I am taking on at the moment, and they are willing to work with me. So, bring it on, Mr. Carlisle.”
He sneered. Sneered. What man his age does that?
“When it comes to my company, I don’t have patience for anything less than perfection. So, count on it, Ms. Benson.”
I forced a fake smile and nodded before turning on my heels and walking toward the door. “Let me just grab my notebook and a pen.”
He didn’t look up from his paperwork as he dictated the emails that he wanted me to send.
“You know to blind copy when you do a group email, correct? We need to keep our clients’ information private.”
“Yes.” Because I wasn’t born under a tree, you pompous ass.
After I wrote down the few sentences, he looked up at me. “You’ll be joining me for lunch today. We’re taking our most important client to Jazelle’s, and I’ll need you to play scribe. Layla always attends these.”
Well, this is more like it. Some actual meetings. I couldn’t hide my smile. “Count me in.”
“You don’t really have a choice,” he said, and I pushed to my feet. I didn’t miss the way his eyes scanned my body, probably making sure I was dressed appropriately to be seen with Mr. Arrogant himself. I was thankful that I wore my best black suit today, but when he zeroed in on my chest, I glanced down to see my nipples poking through my cream shell.
Oh my gosh. That had never happened to me before. Maybe my nipples reacted when I’m nervous? Or when I was being scrutinized? It had nothing to do with the grumpy, beautiful man drinking me in at the moment. I cleared my throat and held the notebook over my chest. “Will that be all?”
“You know where the bathroom is, if you need a moment to…” He paused and smirked. “Get yourself together.”
I glared at him before walking to the door. “It’s just a bit chilly in here.”
What else could I say? I knew he’d noticed. I’d noticed. Maybe he wasn’t talking about my overachieving nipples who had just discovered their talent for turning on the headlights at the most inopportune time.
“I don’t think it’s chilly at all.” His mouth formed a straight line, and I fought the urge to dive over his desk and throat punch the arrogant bastard. I had two brothers. I could drop this pretty boy if I needed to.
But instead, I cleared my throat and nodded before walking out of his office, and then breaking out in a sprint to get to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and was horrified at the sight of them.
This is not happening.
I found a piece of paper in my purse and moved into the stall. I removed my jacket and pulled my shell away from my body to fan myself. That didn’t seem to do much, so I decide to just button my blazer and get back to work. The warden was expecting those emails to go out right away, and I didn’t want to give him any opportunity to say I wasn’t up for the task when it came to stepping in for Layla.
The morning proved to be insanely busy, and I realized that this was definitely a two-man job, and I imagined Layla appreciated having an intern to share the workload. Crew Carlisle was a demanding ass, and he never stopped tasking me. It was almost like he wanted me to lose my cool, but I nodded each time that he called me into his office for yet another thing he needed me to do.
Sam stopped by my desk for the third time. I wondered if he realized that no one was socializing this morning because we were all slammed. I wasn’t sure what his actual position was, but I was tempted to ask him if he could run to the copy machine to grab a few documents to save me some time. But I was an intern and he was an actual employee, so I assumed that would be frowned upon. I tried to be polite, but it was challenging to focus, and he wouldn’t stop chatting.
He told me that he and Gwen from the front desk were flirting with one another, and he wondered if she’d mentioned it to me. I told him she hadn’t but we’d yet to have much time to visit since I’d started. He told me all about the party he and his roommates were throwing this weekend. He invited me and said I could bring Ivy. I said I’d try to stop by, but in all honesty, my hours were insane lately and I was looking forward to a Netflix marathon and catching up on sleep. Ivy would probably want me to go, because the girl was a social butterfly, and she suffered from major FOMO, a.k.a. fear of missing out.
“So, do you think you could feel Gwen out for me?” he asked.
“Sure. I’m sure she likes you. I didn’t miss the chemistry the first day I met you all.” I chuckled, because I remembered how she acted around him the day I came in for my interv
iew. I scrolled down my monitor and checked Crew’s schedule for the afternoon.
“Are you not on the clock?” a deep voice hissed, and I froze. I knew who it was without pulling my gaze from my computer.
“Well, technically I’m on salary, so I don’t clock in.” Sam laughed and I cringed because this was his boss, and he was definitely not doing what he was supposed to be doing, nor was he showing Crew the respect he deserved.
“Technically, that means we value you enough to take your work seriously. Take a look around the office. This isn’t a pool party, it’s a place of work. Maura is attempting to fill some pretty big shoes right now, and I’d appreciate it if you’d allow her to do her job,” Crew said, his tone was calm, but he didn’t hide his irritation.
Sam saluted him and winked at me, and I quickly looked away. This was awkward and I didn’t want to be linked with the office slacker. Guilt by association was a real thing.
Crew glared as Sam walked away and turned his gaze to me. He was definitely not pleased, but he cleared his throat and softened his tone. “You ready to head to lunch? The car will be out front in five minutes.”
I hit send on an email and pushed to my feet. I scribbled down a note to follow up on a print order I’d placed this morning when we returned. Layla warned me that they needed to be micromanaged in the print shop or it would never arrive on time. My mind buzzed, but I knew in this moment that I needed to focus on the man currently scowling at me. I grabbed my notebook and a pen, slipped them in my briefcase, and met his gaze.
“Yes. I’m ready.”
I followed him to the elevator and once we stepped on, there was an awkward silence as we moved slowly toward the ground floor.
“Was he bothering you?” he asked, and I looked up to see his green eyes drilling into me.
“Sam?”
He rolled his eyes and ran a hand down his face. Coco was correct. That man had some impressive hands. I couldn’t look away. “Who else? The guy has been at your desk for thirty minutes.”
“He’s harmless. Just making small talk.”
“Well, keep your personal life out of the office. He sure as hell doesn’t hang out there when Layla is at the office,” he snarled as the doors opened and I followed behind him with confusion.
Was he angry at me? What did I do? I was just being friendly. I was an intern, for god’s sake. Low man on the totem pole. I was trying to fit in, not make enemies.
I glanced over to see Beeves outside the building and gave him an inconspicuous wave when Crew surprised me and dropped a five-dollar bill in the can. I couldn’t not smile. It was probably how Cindy-Lou Who felt when she learned the Grinch actually had a heart.
“Best coffee ever this morning, Maura. Thank you,” Beeves said, flashing his adorable smile. Even with his yellow stained teeth, the man had a smile that could light up a room.
“Thanks, Beeves,” I said.
“Thanks, Maura? Thanks, Beeves? I’ve been dropping money in your can every day for months and you’ve never said a goddamn word to me.”
Beeves raised both brows with surprise. “You never smile at me. Maura smiles. And she’s pretty. And she speaks. You drop the money in the can like I’m holding a gun to your head. Maybe you could try smiling a little.”
Crew flashed his teeth with the most forced smile I’d ever seen. As if someone were just holding up his lips to look at his teeth and it took everything in me not to laugh.
“Better?” he grumped.
“It’s a start,” Beeves said, before dropping back down to sit. I waved again and we made our way to the waiting SUV. He opened the door and I slipped inside. He stared at me for a minute, and I swiped at my nose wondering if something was there. He raised a brow before tugging at my seat belt as if he was going to buckle it for me. I yanked it from his hand and snapped it in at my waist.
“I can buckle myself.” I shook my head in disbelief.
“Took you long enough. Were you waiting for an invitation?” He smirked before shutting the door. He slipped in beside me on the other side. “What kind of name is Beeves anyway?”
“His name is Beevis. I call him Beeves because I found out that he and I are both fans of the Biebs.” I laughed. He didn’t.
“The Biebs? Are you drunk?”
“What? No. You don’t know Justin Bieber?”
He closed his eyes and leaned back against his seat. “Of course, I do. I just don’t see the connection.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes as we made our way to the restaurant. You could cut the tension with a knife.
“Listen. I’m new at the office. I’m just trying to fit in. I don’t want to be rude,” I said, and I wondered why I was so nervous. I didn’t like the way he insinuated that I was being unprofessional and that I needed to keep my personal life out of the office. I hardly knew Sam. It was odd because he hadn’t been coming to my desk all that much before I took over, so maybe Layla intimidated him.
He nodded but didn’t look at me. “Sam’s lazy by nature. Choose your friends wisely.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I was certain they were going to get stuck in my head. “Then why is he working for you?”
“What we talk about at our meetings is confidential. Do you understand that? Layla knows a lot of things about the office that are not public record, and she seems to think you’re trustworthy. You’re filling in for her, so your discretion is expected. Are we clear?”
“Unless you’re about to tell me that you work for the mob and you’re going to put a hit out on Sam, or you have a dead body in the trunk—we’re crystal clear.”
He laughed and my stomach flipped. Crew Carlisle had a beautiful laugh. Musical almost. Even a little mesmerizing. Like you witnessed something that he didn’t share often. His smile reached his eyes and my heart pounded so hard in my chest I worried that he could hear it.
“No mob connections. Sam works for us because his grandfather is my grandfather’s best friend. He’s decent at his job, which is another reason that I keep him around. But he spends too much time visiting with everyone. It pisses me off. But I can’t fire the guy, so I have to try to work around it.” He shrugged.
It was surprisingly honest, which caught me completely off guard.
“So, you don’t control the whole universe then?” I couldn’t help myself. “I’m kidding. I don’t think he’s a bad guy. I’ll discourage him from visiting when I’m working.”
“I can’t control who you associate with outside of the workplace, but I’d appreciate you keeping his visits to a minimum when we’re at work.”
What? Where did that come from? Was he listening to our conversation? Why did he care who I hung out with outside of work? I was tempted to tell him that Sam and Gwen were kind of a thing, but I sort of enjoyed seeing him bothered by Sam talking to me.
“Good to know.” I rolled my eyes when we pulled up outside the restaurant.
He opened my door and helped me out of the car. For a grumpy jackass, he definitely had the southern manners down. His mother taught him well, no doubt. He told the driver that he’d call him when we were finished, and his hand grazed the small of my back. Chills ran down my back and my breath caught in my throat. I hated that my body reacted to this man. I hoped he didn’t notice, and I glanced down to make sure my coat was buttoned because I was certain I was reacting everywhere once again. He cleared his throat and opened the door, allowing me to step in first.
The hostess scanned Crew from head to toe. I remembered seeing him back home and he’d always been dressed like a rancher. Jeans, cowboy boots, and a flannel. But he looked completely different in work mode. Not that I knew him as more than an acquaintance before working at Carlisle Ad Agency, nor could I say I knew him well now… but there was a physical difference. He wore a fitted navy suit, which accentuated his long legs. My gaze kept going back to his hands.
Big hands. Big feet. You know what that means.
I heard Coco’s words in my head on repeat, and I covered my mouth with my hand as I took my seat and fought the urge to laugh. Crew had just a bit of scruff covering his jaw, and his green eyes were easy to get lost in. The light coming through the window showed pops of gold and copper mixed in with his emerald gaze. His lips were plump, jaw sharp, and I watched as he pushed to his feet. The muscles in his arms pressing against his tailored jacket.
“Game time,” he leaned close and whispered. His breath tickled my ear, and I squeezed my thighs together because apparently Crew Carlisle’s warm breath also had my body reacting in all sorts of crazy ways. “Only take notes if he starts talking numbers.”
My mouth went dry, my heart was ready to jump out of my chest, and my palms were sweaty. I moved to my feet and wiped my hands on my skirt, hoping he didn’t notice. Why did this man’s nearness make me feel all the things?
Two men approached the table and shook his hand, and he introduced me as his assistant. They nodded and we all took our seats.
One of the men, Ben, appeared to be in his mid-forties, and I didn’t miss the way he watched me throughout lunch as he sat directly across from me. He brought me into the conversation much more often than his boss, Carl Weiner, who was much older and completely focused on Crew. I was sure my cheeks flamed pink with discomfort more than one time when I looked up to find Ben staring at me. It was impossible to miss, and it actually creeped me out. Crew continued to pitch them both, but I didn’t miss the way his gaze danced from Ben to me several times, yet the conversation flowed. I took notes because Carl talked numbers throughout lunch. A foot rubbed up against my calf making its way up to my thigh beneath the table, and I nearly jumped out of my seat. I moved back a bit and then cleared my throat doing everything I could to avoid Ben’s intense gaze. Crew looked over at me, and then he glanced across the table and the veins in his neck pulsed. Did he see what happened? He was sitting beside me, so he may have felt me jump. Carl didn’t miss a beat—he continued throwing numbers out, and I was thankful to have a reason to stare down at my notebook.