And of course Mr. Greyson was her favorite now, too, since he played hero. I admit I was truly grateful for that. Not like Luke could’ve really done anything, even if he did get me outside, but I appreciated him and Zane remedying the situation quickly.
As I lay there in bed thinking about the weirdness that had become my life, my phone rang. I picked it up and was surprised by the name that appeared and by the lateness of the hour. I was intrigued with why he would call so late, so I picked up. “Mr. Greyson. Let me guess, you already have a list of directives for me to follow while you’re gone.”
“Funny, Kelli, but no.”
“Darn it! And here I was hoping you would finally tell me how to properly dispose of the used coffee filters at the office.”
He started laughing. “Well, I see I don’t need to ask if you’re ok.”
“Don’t tell me you were worried about me.”
He cleared his throat on the other end. “I was.”
“Oh. Well … thank you.”
“Luke didn’t come back did he?” he asked.
“No, I think he knew better, thankfully.”
“Kelli?”
I could hear his hesitation on my end.
“What happened between you and him?”
I was taken aback by the inquiry and not exactly sure I wanted to talk about it with him. I didn’t respond for several seconds as I was mulling over what I should or shouldn’t say.
“Kelli?”
“I’m here.” I wasn’t sure why I still was. I wasn’t sure it was “professional” behavior to be talking to your boss about your love life on Saturday night near midnight, and in particular, this boss. I took a deep breath and lost my head. “I dated Luke during grad school when he worked for his dad.”
“He used to work for Chandler?”
“Yep. His dad fired him not long after I started working there.”
“Did he do something to you?” The concern in his voice was apparent and confusing.
“No, his termination had nothing to do with me. He let alcohol and drugs consume his life, and his dad caught him stealing funds from the company.”
“Ouch.”
“That’s putting it mildly. His parents were devastated.”
“How about you?” he asked.
“If you’re asking if I was devastated by Luke, the answer is no. I was hurt, but by that point, I knew Luke and I didn’t belong together. But as you know from tonight, he disagreed, and he didn’t take it well.”
“I’m sorry, Kelli.”
“Why are you sorry?”
It was his turn to pause. I wasn’t sure why; it seemed like a straightforward question.
“You deserve better,” he said finally.
“Something we agree on,” I replied.
“Do my ears deceive me?” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Goodnight, Mr. Greyson.
All I could hear him say as I went to hit the end button was, “Someday, Kelli.”
I set down the phone and rubbed my face. What a bizarre night, from the beginning to the end. There was a time when him calling me in the middle of the night was expected and even looked forward to, but now it was just plain weird and unnerving. Mr. Greyson needed to quit acting like Ian.
I snuggled down under my blanket and just let the sleep I needed take me over. I woke up early on Sunday and got ready for church. As I left for church, I had a surprise on my door. It was an envelope. I recognized the handwriting immediately. I shook my head and opened it. In it I found instructions on how to properly dispose of used coffee filters. I couldn’t help it—I laughed. I didn’t ever remember him being playful like that; I wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. That note was definitely not written by Mr. Greyson, and where Ian had been thoughtful, he was never one to really joke.
I drove to church with the note in my passenger seat. I wasn’t sure why, but I kept looking over at it. It was like it held some mysterious power over me. Even in my head that sounded dumb, but it was true. I even folded it up, put it in my purse, and took it into church with me. Then I did something really dumb: I texted the fool that wrote it.
“Only you could have made up ten steps for such a simple task.”
I was surprised he texted right back. I wondered if he was at the airport or already in Colorado.
“I could have added at least five more.”
I had no doubt. I smiled at the phone as I walked into the chapel area. I looked up to find my sister and her family looking expectantly at me. I made my way over to sit in the pew we had been sitting in for at least the last twenty years. Before I sat down, I turned off my phone and threw it in my purse next to the note.
I sat in between my nieces, who both looked very pretty in pink today. The pastels were a sign that spring had arrived.
“What were you smiling about?” Amanda asked.
“Oh, nothing.”
She eyed me warily. I just smiled at her sweetly and turned my attention to Sam and Court, who were now fighting over who rightly owned the purple marker; Court had it in her hand. It was funny until they both started reaching over me and grabbing each other. The argument was short lived; all Zane had to do was look their way and they ceased and desisted, but true to form, Sam made some very sassy under-breath comment. I tried not to crack a smile.
Zane leaned over Amanda. “You should’ve brought Ian over earlier. He’s the first guy you’ve dated that I like,” he said somewhat quietly.
I felt my eyeballs dilate. “I’m not dating Mr. Greyson, Zane.”
“Yet,” he laughed.
Louder than I should have in church, and of course just as the pastor stood up, out of complete frustration I blurted out, “I think you mean when hell freezes over.”
The pastor looked my way, as did most everyone. Amanda lost it and began shaking uncontrollably, trying not to laugh out loud. Zane was grinning like an idiot, and Sam and Court put the final nail in the coffin. “Ohhh, you just said hell in church,” they said in stereo.
That did it. Amanda for reals lost it, and so did I. We both had to leave to the stares of our fellow church goers. I’m sure they all thought we had lost our minds, and in my case they were correct. Once in the foyer, we laughed so hard it hurt. We were going to Hell for sure.
Our little indiscretion at church was played over and over at the Culver dinner table that night. Maybe it was sacrilegious, but I needed the laugh after the month I had been having. To make up for it, I would put a hefty donation in the plate next week at church. Annoyingly, another thing that was overplayed that night at dinner was Amanda’s and Zane’s obsession with Mr. Greyson, whom they called Ian. They were both convinced he had it bad for me and it was just a matter of time before we rekindled our romance. I adamantly disagreed and left early. They had lost their minds.
Monday dawned, and I thought I would be happy that I had a Mr. Greyson-free week or two to look forward to, but oddly I didn’t feel that way. I found myself pouring over that stupid note again. I should have just chucked it, but for some reason I couldn’t. I did wear jeans just for spite, though.
I rushed into the office in hopes to head Delfia off at the pass. I hoped she hadn’t already started to blab about the news my traitorous sister shared with her at the retirement party. My hopes rose as I noticed hers was the only car in the parking lot. I practically jogged in as best I could in heels and raced up to the executive level. There I found her as usual; busy as a bee, but as soon as she heard me, she turned to face me. A Cheshire grin broke out across her face. I just shook my head at her, and she laughed.
“I knew you and Mr. Greyson had a thing.”
I smirked. “I could say the same thing about you and Matt.”
She blushed. I don’t think I had ever seen her do that. She smiled kind of coyly. “I know he’s kind of young.”
I walked toward her and touched her arm. “I think it’s great, and he’s a lucky guy,” but I had to throw in, “you cougar.”
She chuckled a little. “We kind of want to keep it quiet. Well, at least Matt does. He’s not a big fan of interoffice dating.”
Perfect I thought. “Well … I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine.”
She smiled toothily. “Deal, my friend.”
Inwardly, I took a big sigh of relief.
“But,” she said, “I want details.”
I laughed as I walked away toward my office. There would be no divulging of details. I closed my door as I entered. It was weird that had become a habit. Before Mr. Greyson, I never really shut that door, but now it was commonplace. I wondered if it would ever be different. Would I ever become comfortable with him being my boss?
I found myself staring at my credenza that still remained in place in front of the adjoining door, and then I found myself wondering why he had to go back to Colorado so soon. He said it was personal. I wondered if it was the woman that he had tried to get over. Then I wondered why I wondered. I shook my head and took a deep breath. I told myself to enjoy my Mr. Greyson-free zone and to get to work.
So that’s what I did. In fact, I took the time while he was gone, to work on the graphics for the new release of my marketing software. I know he wanted to hire that out, but I had a feeling he was going to use whoever designed the logo concepts, and those were basically terrible except for the one, and even that needed my help. Of course I didn’t think we needed a new interface, but as he did, I decided to do some more research. I felt like I had come up with a perfect blend of what he called sexy and what I knew was practical and intuitive. It was my plan to wow him when he came back.
Around ten, while I was deep in design mode, my phone rang, and for some reason I smiled when I looked at the caller id. “Good morning, Mr. Greyson.”
“You sound chipper, Ms. Bryant.”
I guess since it was working hours, I was Ms. Bryant. He really was annoying.
“Of course I am. My boss is out of town.”
“Don’t get used to it,” he quipped.
“So are you calling to see if I put your coffee filter instructions to good use this morning?”
That made him chuckle. “No, but did you?”
“I framed them and put them up in the break room.”
He laughed again.
“Kell—” He cleared his throat. “Ms. Bryant,” he corrected himself in his this-isn’t-the-time-to-be-humorous-after-all-it’s-business-hours tone.
“Yes, Mr. Greyson?”
“Lorelai Duchane emailed me and would like us to email her a proposal. Do you think you can work on that?”
“I think I can manage that.”
“Just send it to me to look over before you email it to her.”
“I think I heard a please in there somewhere.”
“Please, Ms. Bryant.”
I could hear the exasperation in his voice. It filled me with pride.
“Well of course, Mr. Greyson, I would be happy to do that for you.” I almost gagged on my own words.
It was then I heard a woman’s voice in the background.
“Hey Kel— I mean Ms. Bryant, I need to go, but I’ll call later.” He sounded flustered. I again began to wonder.
Unfortunately, as I worked, my mind wandered frequently, and it frequently landed on someone it shouldn’t. By lunch I decided I needed a distraction. I ditched my sack lunch and headed out. I decided to go to a travel agency and check out some vacation packages. My sister and Zane had invited me to go to Disney World with them in a few weeks during the girls’ spring break. I had thought about saying yes, but I think they did it because they felt sorry for me and because Zane and Amanda just wanted kid-free time to do you know what married couples do, so I politely declined. Besides, theme parks weren’t my idea of a good vacation. I would rather be lying out on the beach and scuba diving and snorkeling than waiting in never-ending lines.
As I perused the brochures, it was just another glaring reminder that I was single. They all showed happy couples and families. It wasn’t quite the distraction I was looking for, but I still took several brochures for the Virgin Islands, various cruises, and even London. I could see myself on a double-decker bus, visiting Jane Austen’s homeland. Maybe I would even get to meet my own Mr. Darcy. I laughed at my stupidity.
By the time I got home for the day, I was melancholy. All I did for the first half hour was lay on the couch and stroke Charlie’s back. He was a purring machine by the time I was done. I asked him what he thought of riding a double-decker bus. I think he may have rolled his eyes and just said, Be quiet silly woman, you missed a spot. I needed a life. Thankfully I had belly dancing to look forward to.
On my way to the Y, I saw something to lighten my mood. There was a sign informing the residents that the pool would open on the first day of spring this year. That was only a week away! With that news and a killer workout, I was in much better spirits when I arrived back home. After I showered and made dinner, I settled myself on the couch and just listened to my Spotify account and relaxed. I was feeling quite content when my phone rang. It probably shouldn’t have surprised me, yet it still did.
“Kelli,” he said after I said hello.
He sounded Ian-like, so I said, “Mr. Greyson.”
I heard him sigh. It never got old.
“You know, I could still be at work, and you just crossed professional boundaries by using my first name.”
“Are you at work?” he inquired.
I didn’t answer.
“That’s what I thought.” I could hear the grin.
“So, what can I help you with, Mr. Greyson?”
“I just called to see how your day was?”
“Um … ok … I’m just about finished with the proposal for Lorelai and …”
“I didn’t call to talk about work,” he interrupted.
“This is a social call?” I asked because I really needed the clarification. I mean, why would he just call to call?
“In matter of speaking,” he responded.
“Huh,” was all I could say.
“So, how was your day?” he repeated.
“It was fabulous.” I exaggerated because I didn’t want him getting the wrong idea. “So … how was your day?”
“Not as good as yours, apparently.”
I laughed because he probably did have a better day than me. He probably spent it with his “personal matters.”
From there, we ended up talking about Colorado and what had changed in the last nine years since I left. Then we started talking about movies and music and why I still liked bubble gum ice cream after all these years. Before I knew it, it was eleven p.m. I looked at the clock and did a double take. We had talked for three hours. How did that happen?
What was really weird was, it kept happening. Every day he would call during the day and bark orders at me, ok maybe not bark, but he was pretty demanding, but then at night he would call me “socially,” and we would talk for hours on end. I forgot how much I enjoyed just talking to him, but it was very odd indeed. So odd I never mentioned the calls to anyone. It was also odd he would never tell me why he was really in Colorado; he would just say he was working things out and he would get back to Nashville as soon as he could. I was very curious about what he was working out, but after two weeks, let’s just say I now know why they say curiosity killed the cat.
I came in that Monday looking forward to the week ahead after a glorious weekend of basking in the sun by the pool and swimming with Court and Sam. I even smiled when I saw the white Infiniti in the parking lot on my way in. I knew he had gotten in late Sunday night. I looked at my reflection in the glass door before I entered and thought, not bad. My skin was glowing from being sun-kissed all weekend, and my peach dress looked like at least a half a million bucks on me, so I was feeling pretty darn good about myself as I walked up those stairs. That, however, all came to a crashing halt.
I walked through the executive level entrance door to find Delfia in a dither, which was completely uncharacteristic. She
was throwing papers around her desk and muttering to herself. I looked around to consider what the source was, but all I noticed was Mr. Greyson’s door was closed; I could hear voices, which was odd, considering I just saw his car and Delfia’s in the parking lot. Delfia finally noticed me.
She shook her head, and in hushed tones she spoke, “Heads up, Mr. Greyson …”
She didn’t get to finish her thought. Mr. Greyson came out of his office; he was smiling, and he was wearing something, or rather, someone on his arm.
Chapter 12
He looked surprised to me see me, though I’m not sure why. I did work there after all.
“Kel— I mean Ms. Bryant.” He and his arm accessory with big boobs and hair that would do any southern woman proud with its height limit, stopped and stared at me. I think she may have done her makeup in the dark, it was awfully thick.
“Mr. Greyson,” was all I could manage. In fact I turned back to Delfia out of being flustered by the scene in front me of. “Um … Delfia can you please pull the Bergman file for me?”
Delfia just shook her head yes.
“Thank you,” I said quietly as I turned to walk to my office.
“Ms. Bryant,” he called. “I want to introduce you to …”
I took a deep breath without trying to make it look like I was taking a deep breath and turned around with the fakest smile I ever conjured up plastered on my face.
“This is Alexa Manselle,” he said nervously.
I put out my hand to shake hers. She grabbed it flimsily. I couldn’t stand people that couldn’t give a good, firm handshake. I tried not to roll my eyes.
“Alexa,” he called her, “this is Ms. Bryant, she’s the Regional Manager.”
She kind of let out a high pitch noise, “Oh, of course.”
I tried not to put my finger to my ear to stop the ringing.
Professional Boundaries Page 12