From the Top
Page 4
He bobbed his head in farewell, and his easy stride carried him out of the office.
Seraphina’s mouth was still agape, and she closed it with an abrupt snap. She had no idea what had just happened. Okay, well, the what was pretty easy to figure—Roper had taken the blame for his deleted files. The why escaped her entirely. She itched to run after him and get answers, but part of her was relieved he was gone. Not that dealing with Grant Gallagher was any balm to the situation, but she had no idea how to right such a grievous wrong. For all his easy demeanor, Roper was probably fuming on the inside, and simply too nice of a guy to let Seraphina accept responsibility. She swallowed thickly. Would Grant fire her if he knew the truth? Just how much had Roper’s false confession rescued her from?
Grant’s pale blue eyes alighted on her. “Interesting turn of events.” His tone was clipped, his expression unreadable. He sat down and motioned for Seraphina to join him.
Wanting nothing more than to run away, she sat, beyond ill-prepared for the meeting. She thought it’d be a long while before she dealt with Grant face-to-face again. Maybe it was because she felt so hideous and gross, but he seemed even better looking than before. So neat and together in a crisp pale gray suit that complimented his lightning gaze.
Inside of her, something deeply buried and sentimental sighed wistfully. She’d made herself into a creature of poise and care and thoughtfulness—a bright, intelligent person with tight control. Grant Gallagher impressed and attracted her, because all of those traits she held so dear appeared to ooze off him with a natural ease she could only dream of possessing herself. He’d be perfect for her in another life. But not this one. In this life, he was her boss, and didn’t seem equally impressed by her. Not even a little.
In fact, there was repressed regret in the lines around his mouth as he offered her congratulations. “As you’ve heard, Roper accidentally deleted all of his files for the Tanbee House project, supposedly thinking he was deleting older versions. What you may not have realized is that you had the runner-up spot. Your ideas were a little run-of-the-mill. I’d like to work with you on putting a few unorthodox touches on the final plans. That is, of course, if you haven’t also deleted your files?” His tone was dry, with little evidence of humor despite the joke.
“No.” She was all but drowning in guilt. She’d figured yesterday she had to be a contender for Tanbee House, but having Grant confirm it only made everything worse. Oh, God. Did Roper think she’d deleted his plans on purpose to steal his place? The churning in her stomach increased.
Grant peered at her, suddenly seeming to take in her pallor and nerves. His gaze scoured her, and she felt the heat of it on her skin. “Are you all right?”
“Totally fine.” The lie came out in a voice much higher than her normal tone, but she also managed to squeeze in a small reassuring smile for Grant’s sake. She doubted it was the most convincing thing in the world. For now, she’d go along, but she needed to find Roper as soon as possible and try to fix this. Even if his plans were gone, it didn’t mean he shouldn’t lead the team in charge of one of the firm’s biggest projects. Maybe he had time to start over. She could offer to help. She could—
Grant cleared his throat, wrenching Seraphina back into the present moment. “Don’t feel bad,” he said. He must’ve read the guilt on her face. “Roper is a big boy. There are consequences for being careless. If I’m honest, I was going to suggest he partner up with you, anyway. If you saw his layout, then you’ll know there were places for improvement.”
And then some. She bit her lip. Guilty or not, Roper’s plans were bad. And if Grant was going to suggest another designer present changes, then he had to know it, too. “You said you were going to call for me? Before Roper came in?” Something that had nothing to do with the deleted files, then. Their initial meeting hadn’t been a smooth one, by any definition of the word. Maybe Roper had taken a bullet for her because she was already screwed.
Grant nodded slowly. He had a considering air, like he were thinking hard on whether or not he wanted to say anything at all. “I know you’re an established designer in your own right. And I imagine you have grand plans to strike out on your own, which will certainly be easy for you to do once you’ve earned accolades doing something that will have as much media coverage as the new expansion to the Governor’s Mansion property. Your name will be known in conjunction with mine. And I always give credit where it is due. I may request changes, force my own ideas into the final plans, but I always give my head designers the recognition they deserve. All that being said, I’d like to make you an offer.”
It was the last thing in the world she could’ve expected. She didn’t even believe he liked her very much, and her designs were only second-best. Why he’d want to offer her anything at all was unfathomable. “Oh?”
He smiled, and the whole room seemed to shift. He had a brilliant smile that transformed everything about him. Something moved in her stomach, but this time for completely different reasons. A lick of desire made her breath hitch. Grant quirked a brow at her, his grin less intense but still present. He looked amused, and not a little sexy…a lot sexy. “No need to sound so surprised. You made an impact on me yesterday. I think it’s fairly evident we have many common traits, and we both strive for a certain level of…well, I guess you’d call it distance. I work very hard not to allow my emotions to rule me. It’s important to be impartial. On the surface, it’s at odds with our profession. We’re artists at the end of the day. But there’s more to running this firm than the art. Art is also business. And business requires a different kind of mentality.”
Seraphina fought the urge to squirm in her seat and held perfectly still. Grant had become more somber as he spoke. His smile faded into an earnest expression, and his gaze crystallized. The softness his quick laugh had brought disappeared. Something big was coming. A new kind of apprehension filled her.
Grant folded his hands neatly on top of his desk. “Seraphina, I’d like you to consider becoming my apprentice. You’re advanced for the position. But I’ve been waiting a long time for someone like you—someone I could one day trust as a partner at Gallagher Interiors.”
* * * *
A million doubts assailed Grant the moment the question went from a mere thought to a voiced statement. Out loud, it grew arms and legs and potential. Once said, he couldn’t take it back or change his mind. Well, he could, but not until he gave Seraphina a fair shake. And although she seemed a little off this morning, he still had a certain surety in his breast. He’d just met the woman, but it felt right. As always, he went with his gut. “Your thoughts?”
At the moment, she didn’t appear to have any. She stared at him, her vivid eyes like pools of ice, perfectly blank-faced. Her surprise was only evident in the small o of her mouth. Finally, she blinked. “Are you sure?”
Not what he expected. “Is there some reason I’d ask if I weren’t certain you were a good fit for the future vision I have of this company?”
“No, I…” She cleared her throat, then gave a low, throaty chuckle. “Honestly, I’m shocked. I wouldn’t say our interview yesterday went well enough for you to make this sort of offer. You haven’t even seen me at work yet.”
“I’ve seen your blueprints.” He paused, unsure of how to convince her without heaping on praise and coming across like an idiot. “Seraphina, I know I gave you a hard time yesterday, but the truth is your plans encompassed much more of the process than most of my staffers stop to consider, and that says a lot about how you approach tasks. That’s the way I think, but it’s not how I expect my designers to think. They take a white space and fill it with their vision. You worked backward from the white space, detailing how to achieve it in the first place. Besides that, we seem to have the same approach to work. I like Roper. He’s a good guy, works hard, and is superbly creative.”
A doubtful expression flitted across Seraphina’s face. Grant almost sighed
. Eventually, they’d have to broach the subject. Roper’s plans were a huge let-down, but Grant would get to the bottom of why before he discussed the issue with anyone else.
“But,” he continued, ignoring the elephant in the room for the time being, “Roper also has an artist’s temperament. You seem more grounded. It wouldn’t be permanent unless you decide it’s what you want for certain. It’s a very big leap, and a lot of responsibility, and my expectations are exquisitely high.” Again, Roper’s poor designs made him feel like a liar. He pushed them from his mind.
Seraphina’s gaze settled onto a spot between him and his desk. She nibbled her lip, the only motion that gave any hint as to what she was thinking or feeling—nervous? Excited?
“From here, I’ll keep a close eye on how you bring your vision for Tanbee House to life. I have other items on the agenda that demand my attention, but we’ll work together near the end of the process. I’m sure by the time we wrap up this project and put a bow on it for the city, you and I will have a pretty good idea if we’re a good fit to move forward as partners.”
She nodded slowly. “Kind of like one really long job interview.”
“Yes. If you’re interested.”
“Well, yeah. I mean, of course.”
For the first time since she whirled into his office that morning, she seemed to relax a little. Her face opened up, and something not unlike a smile crept over her lips. Her face was flushed, and she looked tired, but it didn’t diminish her beauty so much as give it a haunting effect. The black dress, the somber gaze. He wanted to wrap her in a flannel blanket and give her some cocoa.
“You’re right.” She shrugged slightly. “I would love my own firm one day. It’s a dream I got a late start on, because…well, because. Doesn’t matter now. You’re offering me an opportunity to make up for lost time. My biggest worry”—her gaze rose quickly, locking onto to his with a sudden intensity—“is that we may be too alike. But that’s a chance I’m willing to take, if you’re willing to take one on me. You don’t even know me.” She gave another one of those low chuckles, like she couldn’t believe her luck, that Grant could almost feel moving over his skin.
Belatedly, he recognized the tingle of attraction. Well, damn. There was a complication he hadn’t accounted for. He straightened his back and wiped whatever answering smile lingered on his own lips. “Well, then I’d better start. Dinner tonight at Rosa Rita’s. I’ll send a car at eight, if you’ll leave Annie your address.” At her wide eyes, he held up a palm. “Not a date, Ms. Fawkes. Just an expenditure I can write off. I don’t have time during the day to sit and chat about what makes us tick. We need to get to know one another, however, and it’s worth putting in the time before we break ground. I prefer to do so over food and good wine if it’s all the same to you.”
Maybe he imagined the disappointment that came and went from Seraphina’s face like a shadow. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, and he should kick himself or call a halt to the whole thing before he got himself in trouble.
Seraphina transitioned smoothly into her usual poised countenance, and nodded. “Eight o’clock.”
She left, and much to his chagrin, he watched her leave beneath his lashes. A funny little dress, but the fabric swayed neatly from side-to-side, giving him a pretty good idea of the curves underneath. Then he shook his head and lamented his bad fortune. He’d finally met someone who might be worthy of putting their name alongside his on the company letterhead, and he was going to screw it up. Grant Gallagher’s love life would forever take a backseat to his company, and Seraphina was too important to the future of Gallagher Interiors for him to risk the chance with her.
Chapter 4
The moment Seraphina stepped inside the restaurant, Grant regretted everything—the offer of apprenticeship and the acceptance of her plans for Tanbee House. Hell, even giving in to Roper’s insistence to hire her in the first place.
Gone were the bags under her eyes and the tiredness she’d carried around at work all day. She sloughed them off like an old layer of skin, revealing fresh, flawless perfection underneath. Grant swallowed around a sudden dryness in his throat as the head waiter led her through the throng of tables toward him.
The red cocktail dress was like a candy wrapper, fun and enticing. The strapless top flowed seamless into a red skirt, overlaid with black lace. Her black heels were towering. Her brilliant red hair was twisted up into a loose bun, and the straight ends stuck up and to the side in some punk rock version of a fancy up-do. Her eyes were lined in kohl and zeroed in on him from across the room.
His heart did a rapid thump-thump as their gazes locked. He stared the whole while she worked her way toward him, and he knew he wasn’t the only man—or woman, for that matter—to stop and stare. At some point, he wasn’t watching her eyes anymore, but the way her legs’ long strides made the silky fabric of her dress slide over her thighs and waist.
Seraphina thanked the waiter and lowered into her seat across from Grant. She settled herself, taking several seconds before she deigned to meet his eyes again and smile demurely.
Grant took a long swallow of lemon water. Whatever had been bothering Seraphina this morning, she had not only recovered, but came back swinging. “You certainly make an entrance.”
She shrugged lightly and glanced around the room. Her gaze took in the glittering chandelier overhead, one of many scattered around the dining room. “I had a rough morning. Needed a boost. I tried to dress for the occasion. Rosa Rita’s has a waiting list months long.”
“We could’ve postponed if you weren’t feeling well.” Maybe then she wouldn’t have dressed like they had definite plans to have sex later. Every person in the restaurant had to be thinking it. And he’d be totally okay with that if it weren’t for all the bad ways that might end. Seraphina couldn’t be his partner if they had baggage, and she was probably right—they could very well be too alike to get along.
He wryly admitted he hadn’t exactly dressed down. His suit was one of the finest in his closet, a deep black with a silver gray shirt underneath. On some subconscious level, he saw this as more than a simple discussion over dinner and drinks. He wanted to get to know Seraphina. He couldn’t help but wonder if they had similar pasts that made them both so standoffish. He adjusted his tie for the second time and realized he was nervous. In the unspoken—yet very real—arena where he and Seraphina faced each other, she had the upper hand for once. What unsaid thing between them had encouraged this battle of wills?
Grant cleared his throat and relaxed as the waiter came and poured their wine, a white he’d chosen before Seraphina arrived. One of them had to give. And though it wasn’t in his nature to be the one to cave first, he knew he wouldn’t get any closer to Seraphina if he didn’t let down a few of his own barriers.
He looked around at the restaurant, dismayed. He’d chosen the most pretentious restaurant in the city. They’d never be at ease enough to do any more than swap niceties. He nodded to himself. “Maybe I should’ve chosen someplace less…well, less. I really didn’t think this through.” He tossed down his napkin across his plate. “We haven’t ordered yet. Do you want to leave? We can go someplace…”
“Less?” she ventured carefully. Seraphina’s head was cocked to one side as if waiting for him to spring a trap. They made each other wary, which only intrigued him more.
“Way less. Like a taco truck.”
Seraphina sputtered on her first sip of wine. Hey, ho, how about that. He’d surprised her by showing off a personality. Deeply buried under the exterior of his professional demeanor, but there nonetheless. She dabbed hurriedly at her mouth before wine could dribble down her chin, blue eyes wide and glittering with mirth. The touch of caution was still there. She recovered and glanced up at him through her lashes, but a small smile stole across her lips. “I’m pretty overdressed for a taco truck.”
Grant shrugged and answered her smile with a t
entative one of his own. A bit of the wall between them crumbled, but not enough. He could feel the reserve like a stone fence, thick and low. It was as if they peered over, both curious, but neither willing to let down their guard. “I’m not wearing holy Levi’s and tennis shoes,” he said, glancing down at himself for good measure. “Besides, you’re going to receive some looks no matter where you go.”
Seraphina blushed prettily but didn’t look away. “A dress like this one doesn’t need much from the wearer.”
He gave her a sardonic smile. False modesty didn’t look good on her. “I enjoy giving a beautiful woman a compliment as much as the next man, but I’m not one for empty flattery. Even here, in a place full of women dressed likewise, you command the room’s attention. I think it’s safe to say it’s not the dress. It’s how you wear it.” He took the chance, standing and offering his arm. He dared her with an arched brow.
Seraphina stared up at him, blinking as if astonished. He read the uncertainty in her gaze and the gleam of excitement beneath it. She took his arm, telling him more than she perhaps realized about herself. For one, Ms. Fawkes was a risk taker. Secondly, she looked good on his arm. Excitement thrummed along his nerves as he led Seraphina back through the crowded restaurant. He’d meant what he said. People stared. Women conspicuously, men more furtively, mindful of their own companions, but at nearly every table, eyes followed their path toward the front entrance.
Grant was surprised by the flash of possessive pride he felt. Hardly anyone made him edgy and self-conscience, and the fact that Seraphina made his nerves hum only made their strange chemistry all the more interesting. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t know if their combustible energy would lead to success or ruin until he got to know Seraphina better. Suddenly, glancing at her profile and noting the tug of a smile on her lips, it struck Grant he’d find the task enjoyable, regardless. Hell, fireworks were entertaining, even when there was the risk of fire. That only added to the thrill.