Between You & I

by Susan Cairns

  Chapter Four

  Taylor

  “Shit!” I can’t help but say aloud. But thankfully not too loud. I don’t want my nosy neighbor, Marcy, hearing me swearing at work because god forbid.

  Reid Mariano is going to be trouble. Not only is he extremely good-looking—with those deep brown eyes, chiseled jawline, and muscles that pull his crisp white dress shirt tight across his chest and around his arms—but he also has the most edible-looking ass. Yes, I looked as he walked away from my cube—stealthily, I might add. Oh, and how can I forget, he’s probably a genius. God, he went to Northwestern for grad school! That was only a dream of mine. One I should have made happen, damn my parents for talking me into staying home. But then again, if I had gone away, I wouldn’t be here right now, getting ready to train a guy who had sent a shockwave through my body with just one touch. Yep, totally fucked.

  It’s only a matter of time until Reid comes to get me for training, or whatever we’re going to call it. He probably doesn’t even need to learn how to do anything. I’m sure he’ll teach me more than I can ever teach him. Which intimidates the hell out of me. I hate not being the knowledgeable one. Well, I still kind of have an advantage over him; I do know the clients.

  “Hey, Taylor?” a tentative male voice asks from behind me as a closed fist knocks on the top of the short cube wall.

  I turn my chair slowly, already knowing who’s there. After hearing that voice one time, I could pick it out of a crowd. The way he’s leaning against my cube… holy shit, am I even going to be able to form words?

  “Uh, yeah,” I stammer. “What’s up? Are you already done going over the files?” Yeah, I’m totally making myself look like an idiot. Not to mention I can’t even bring my eyes up to meet his.

  “Actually no, I thought it would be easier if we go over them together…” When my eyes finally meet his, he seems to get lost for a few seconds. “Um, ah, Miranda went to get them for me before her conference call.”

  Ha! At least I’m not the only one who seems to be having a problem with this crazy connection we have.

  “Okay, well, um, I guess we can head to your office to go over everything, or we can hang out here, but my cube’s a little tight.”

  “Yeah, I mean, no, we can go to my office. The desk is huge. We can sit there and go over everything. Also, I didn’t take a look at the supply catalogues yet. Maybe you can point out the things I’ll need, so I don’t order a bunch of unnecessary stuff.”

  “I can do that. Just give me a few minutes to finish going through my e-mails”—I point over my shoulder—“then we can get started.” I try to remember if I already said that or not. God, this guy’s getting me all messed up and I’ve barely spoken to him.

  “Sounds good. See you in a few,” Reid says, tapping on my cube again before taking off down the hall.

  Breathing out a sigh of relief, I turn back toward my computer and notice that I didn’t even wake it up after the meeting. Shit! Now I really look like an ass, telling him I’m reading e-mails while the damn screen is black. I need to pull my shit together. This is the guy who stole my job, not some hot guy I met at the bar and couldn’t close the deal with. The game face needs to be firmly in place before I go into that office. I have something to prove, and I can’t do that if I’m drooling all over the reason I have to work harder in the first place. But fuck, why is he so goddamned good-looking?

  Sucking in a deep breath, I focus on the anger I had last Friday and the conversation Casey and I had this morning, then I blow it out. Sadly, I have to do it a couple of times before I’m ready to face Reid. I got this. I can show Miranda and Reid I should have that title, not just the quasi promotion Miranda gave me this morning.

  I stand and straighten my skirt, then I run my hands down the front of my royal blue blouse. “Let’s do this,” I say to no one before heading down the hall to Reid’s office.

  Reid’s office door is opened a little more than a crack when I stop outside it. I can see, from the natural light filtering in through the open blinds, that he’s tinkering with the cords connected to his docking station. His computer looks to be docked, but the screen on the monitor is black. He probably doesn’t have it locked in place, but clearly doesn’t know that’s the problem. Maybe proving myself will be easier than I thought, considering he can’t even get the computer to work.

  Instead of knocking, I step forward and quietly flip on the overhead light. Surprised, Reid jumps, almost knocking the monitor off its stand. Grabbing the sides, he steadies it then looks over to where I’m standing at the door. The deer-in-the-headlights look on his face almost has me laughing. I lift my eyebrow while biting my lip to make sure that laugh does’t actually slip out.

  “Hey, Taylor,” he says, trying to slip his confident demeanor back in place.

  “Reid,” I respond, trying to put a bit of ice in my voice. “What’re you doing?”

  “There’s no way around me sounding like a dumbass, so I’ll just admit that I can’t get my laptop docked to the monitor.” He shrugs while giving me a smile.

  “Do you have it locked in place?” I take a couple of steps into the office, stopping in front of the L-shaped desk.

  “It’s connected, but I didn’t see a locking mechanism.”

  “There is one,” I answer, sounding like a true smartass.

  “Well, do you mind showing me?” he retorts with the same tone, backing up from the desk and making enough room for me to move in front of him.

  With my hand running along the smooth, laminated press board, I walk around the desk and take his place. Before I make a move to touch the computer, I feel Reid get closer to my back. Not so close that he’s touching me, just enough for his cologne to engulf my nostrils. He smells really good. I have to take a deep breath to get Reid-free fresh air before I can continue.

  Game face, Taylor, game face, I say to myself in a silent pep talk.

  “I’ll take it apart and show you how to connect it properly,” I say, peeking over my shoulder at him before I pull the computer from the docking station. “You can usually lock it anytime, but this station is a bit temperamental, so you need to do it as soon as the computer is connected.”

  “So it’s just my computer, not the general status of all the systems here?” He asks sounding a little annoyed.

  “No, just your station. I meant to tell Miranda that it needed to be replaced after Lindsay left, but I was too busy keeping up with all of the work she neglected to do.”

  “I’m starting to get the opinion that my predecessor was quite lax.”

  “She was. Internet shopping was much more important to her. What kills me is that she landed a job at some Fortune 500 company in New York City.” I pause, adding some dramatic effect to what I’m about to say. “She moved to be close to her internet boyfriend. I guess it was finally time to see him in person. Another thing that was more important that her job”—I glance over my shoulder again—“boyfriend-shopping.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with online dating,” Reid says defensively, making me wonder if he’s the online dating type.

  “I didn’t say there was. I’m just saying that it took precedence over Lindsay’s job. But then again, that did give me the opportunity to take over her clients and grab myself some good experience.”

  “See, there are always positives to a bad worker. Now how about you show me how to connect my computer to the stubborn dock?”

  “Right, the computer. Let’s get this thing turned on so we can get down to business.” Turing back to the task in front of me, I lift the laptop then line it up on the dock, making sure it’s going to connect when I push it down. Once it’s firmly in place, I flip the lock over the back, stopping the user from opening the screen. I hit the power button on the docking station and watch as the monitor comes to life.

  “That simple, huh? Now I really feel stupid. I didn’t even see the lock on the back of the dock.”

  “It’s a common mistake. Our stations are older,
and I guess the newer ones don’t have to be locked. Anyway, do you want to give it a try, or do you think you’ve got it?” I ask with a little bit of humor in my voice, then I chance another look at him.

  Reid gives me a shit-eating grin. “I think I have a handle on it. Why don’t you grab a chair and show me how to get logged on and set up?” He backs up, allowing me space to move out of his way.

  “It’s really not that hard. We run on a Citrix system, so we can work from anywhere without having to create a remote connection. The most you have to do is get your temporary password changed, then set up your e-mail signature.”

  “We use Outlook, right?” Reid asks, taking a seat in his chair.

  “Yeah, we changed over from GroupWise last year, thank god. Outlook is so much more user-friendly,” I answer with my back to him. I can’t believe we’re talking about our e-mail server as though it’s small talk. God, we need to get down to business before I make myself look like an ass.

  Grabbing the back of the chair from the other side of the desk, I pull it around so I can slide in next to Reid. While I’m doing this, I hear Reid tapping away at the keyboard and assume he’s getting signed in and changing his password from the temporary one Miranda assigned him. After sitting, I cross my legs and slide the chair under the open corner of the desk, then I pull the files Miranda dropped off toward me.

  Moving my eyes to the computer screen in front of Reid, I notice he’s opening e-mails and going through the unopened messages. Most of which are from coworkers, greeting and welcoming him to the company. I’m a little blown away by the amount of people who took the time to send him a “Hello” before he arrived. I assumed, since Miranda was restructuring the teams, that no one would be inclined to reach out until they knew for sure whether or not they’d be working under him. Apparently I was wrong, and I clearly underestimate my peers. It almost makes me feel bad that I didn’t think to do it myself, not that that would have given him the impression I was hoping to send.

  It’s difficult to read over his shoulder, but I’m nosy and don’t care if he sees me doing it. I want to know what everyone’s first impression of him is, or if they were trying to kiss his ass before he started. As he scrolls to the last of the e-mails, I’m even more surprised to see one from Casey, the traitor. Although I can’t blame her—she was probably thinking with her girly bits when she sent it, and it’s just a simple “Hello, and welcome.”

  “Did Miranda encourage them to do this?” Reid asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Huh?”

  He nods toward the computer screen before looking at me. “It seems like everyone e-mailed to welcome me to the team. I was just wondering if she encouraged you all to do this before I got here?”

  “Um, no, she didn’t say anything about it.” I pause for a few seconds, thinking about what I’m going to say next. “I guess you made a good impression during your introduction this morning.”

  “That’s good, I’m glad to see so many employees eager to see what I have to offer.” He stops, but from the look on his face, I can tell he has more to say, so I stay quiet. “But… I don’t see an e-mail from you.”

  “Oh…” My confidence slips for a moment as he called me out for what I was thinking, then I quickly pull myself back together. “I didn’t even think about sending one since I was going to be working directly with you.”

  “I’m just giving you a hard time, trying to lighten the mood. You seem a little wishy-washy, and from the confrontation I heard this morning, I’m assuming you’re not too happy that I’m here.”

  Cue the deer-in-the-headlights expression again. “Uh, so you heard that, huh?” I wonder if the people in the cubes closest to the conference room were able to hear too?

  “It was muffled, but yeah, I heard someone raising their voice at Miranda. Then I saw you come out of the room, so I put two and two together.”

  “It was nothing, just a small misunderstanding. Let’s get down to business, shall we?” I move the subject back to the work sitting in front of us.

  “We probably should. Why don’t you show me around the system, then we can take a look at the files? Miranda told me you were very familiar with all the clients and what they’re looking to get out of their business with Great Lakes.”

  “I am, I’ve been working with them for months now, so I’ve kind of built a friendship with all of them. They trust me.” I throw the trust in as a dig, just to let Reid know what he’s up against.

  All of the clients I’ve been working with are small businesses, some that recently took the jump in expanding without the knowledge needed to do so, which is where I come in. Just telling Reid that I’ve worked with these people for months is being vague. I’ve spent at minimum twelve, sometimes more, hours, Monday through Friday, over the past three plus months, working to get them comfortable with my ideas. It’s not easy to get small business owners to trust someone else with their money, but I’m good at my job.

  Leaning over the desk, I help Reid maneuver through the computer, showing him where the electronic files are, along with our shared documents. I walk him through setting up conference calls and scheduling meetings through the e-mail system, then setting up his signature. Finally I direct him to each of our client’s websites, so he can save them in his favorites. He won’t be the one making the updates to them—we have a techy named Michael who does all of the website building—but Reid will need to make the suggestions.

  When we’re done, Reid leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “It’s not too bad. I’m used to dealing with a lot more. But that doesn’t seem surprising considering Miranda said you didn’t put a big focus on marketing campaigns.”

  “I’ve done a lot of marketing for them,” I say defensively. “Most of it is print, but the bulk of the customers our clients deal with are local, so putting a large scale marketing campaign together just hasn’t been necessary.”

  “I understand that, but print is a dying media. We need to take advantage of newer avenues if we want these clients to grow their businesses.”

  “So basically what you’re saying is that I held them back instead of letting them grow to their full potential?” I challenge, crinkling my brow to show my frustration.

  “Not at all, but Miranda did say you don’t have much experience in marketing, which I’m hoping to help you with.” He takes a long look at my face, probably noticing that he struck a nerve with me. “She speaks highly of you, you know? She told me that once you get some marketing experience under your belt, you’re going to be a powerhouse. I think she might be afraid she’s going to lose you.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Just a hunch. You’re young, smart, and driven.” He looks back at the computer screen, bringing his e-mail back up. “This isn’t the kind of company that will hold your attention for long.”

  “Then why did you come here?” I ask, deciding to get personal since he somewhat started it.

  “I was done with being a number at a corporate giant. I want the opportunity to have a personal connection with my clients, not just be a part of their team. It’s hard to get your ideas out there when you’re working with a group of ten or more people on the same thing. It gets messy when people’s feelings get hurt and it starts to feel more like a constant fight instead of a job.” He blows out a deep breath then turns to face me again, putting his elbow on the desk and resting his chin on his closed fist.

  “What, they didn’t like your ideas and your feelings were hurt?” I ask with some sarcasm in my tone, lifting one side of my lips.

  “No, I didn’t let petty things like that get to me, but I saw it happen every day. On top of that, office gossip was out of control. I constantly felt like I was fighting to keep my name out of the bullshit.”

  “There’s office gossip anywhere,” I point out.

  “True, but from what I’ve already experienced in my short time here, I don’t think the gossip is on a level anywhere near what it was with my last
employer.”

  “Why don’t we get into these files?” I ask, fidgeting with the corner of the folder on top, redirecting the conversation again.

  “We’ll get to them. What I want to do first is get to know you a little better, just to get a better understanding of your background.”

  “And that’s relevant to our job because…?”

  “It’s nice to know what kind of experience you have and where you came from. I find that getting to know the people I have to work with directly makes the working relationship run smoother.”

  “So you got to know all of your former coworkers?”

  “Not really, which is why things didn’t run smoothly. I’m not trying to pry. I just think if we know a little more about each other, it’ll make for a better transition. Like you said, these clients”—he motions to the folders—“they trust you, so clearly you’ve given them some insight into yourself to build that trust.”

  “Every relationship I have with clients is professional. I didn’t give them any more than they needed to know in order for me to do my job and do it well.”

  “I get that, but I need to know what I’m up against here.”

  “Are you trying to say that you’re intimidated by me?” I ask, lifting my brow.

  Reid sits up straight, angling his body so that he’s facing me full-on. “That’s not what I’m saying, not entirely. I’m intrigued by you. Like I said, you’re young, smart, and driven. It’s not every day you find someone in their early twenties vying for the same position as someone much older, someone who has established themselves with years of experience.”