by Kayla, Mia
Sweat beaded on the back of my neck. Hundreds of thousands of dollars?
“I’m not qualified,” I repeated, the shock of what he was asking me, hitting me full force. “You’re not talking about just a candy bar wrapper. You’re talking about a whole revamp.”
“That’s right. Packaging, logo, commercials, all of it. I know you can help me get this company to where we need to be.”
“No.” I blinked up at him, feeling a heat wave hit my body. “I’m an artist. I’m not some sort of marketing expert like you think I am. I’ve never been to school for that, and I don’t have any experience in that field.”
There was power behind his tone when he spoke. “We’d need my marketing team too, but what I need is fresh, new ideas. You could bring that in bucketfuls. Some of this marketing stuff is all about creativity. You can go to school, yeah, and learn tricks of the trade or whatever marketing gurus learn, but sometimes, it’s as simple as knowing what people want, what people like. And you know what looks good.”
I pressed one hand to my chest. “Listen, I’m flattered. Really. But I just can’t accept this offer.”
“I’d pay you overtime.”
Tempting, really tempting, as I needed the money, and if I were sure I could do the job and be successful at it, I’d take him up on his offer. Though overtime would be really nice, that wasn’t the issue. Simply said, I wasn’t qualified to take this position when so much was riding on the line.
“I just can’t.”
He pinched his chin, never breaking eye contact. After pressing his lips together, he tipped his head, nodding. “Okay, I know this is a lot to take in, and I understand where you’re coming from, but from our brief conversations and the little that I’ve seen of your work, I believe you can really help us.”
His compliment made my stomach flip and then flop.
“Thanks,” I said, shifting in my seat, hating his fierce stare locked on me.
After a beat, he picked up his cup. “I have to get to a meeting, but, Charlie … please don’t deny me just yet. You’re talented, Charlie. Don’t try to hide it. And I’m sure it’s just not me. I know some artists who would think the same thing. I know quite a few people in the industry that I could introduce you to.” His gaze was firmly fixed on mine. “Just think about it, okay?”
The idea of helping Colby’s with this rebranding initiatives was tempting but scary as hell. “Okay.”
His smirk had me looking at what his eyes had flittered to.
“Sexy Filthy Boss?” He lifted a curious eyebrow.
Great. He had seen the title of my book.
When he reached for the book, I grabbed it and chucked it into my lunch bag.
“It’s a romantic comedy by one of my favorite authors. Okay, I guess I’ll see you later.” I waved a hand and tried to tame the heat on my face.
“Give it here …” He motioned with his fingers, beckoning me, my diversion tactic failing.
“What?”
“Your book. I want to see it.”
“Are you into romance novels now?” The heat of my cheeks rushed to my ears.
“Come on. I want to see it. I promise I won’t make fun of you.”
My face scrunched, and I pulled it out of my lunch bag. With a big pout, I plopped it on the table. When he reached for it, he flipped to the back cover to read the blurb. And I wanted to crawl under the lunch table and die a fast, easy death.
His eyes seared through me, and we were locked in this sort of no-blinking contest. “Do you fantasize about this sexy, filthy boss?”
The heat on my face turned from tamale hot to caliente hot. If I’d had any doubt I was beet red, there was no doubt now. I widened my eyes.
Honest to goodness, this could be classified as sexual harassment. But I knew he was just trying to get a rise out of me.
“I’m totally kidding. I shouldn’t have said that.” He pushed the book back in my direction and rubbed at his brow. “I’ve taken enough training to know that was totally inappropriate. That was actually random.” He tilted his head from side to side as though there were a crick in his neck. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
He locked eyes with me, and I swore it was as if he had secret powers because it stilled me in my spot, to the point where I couldn’t even move, let alone breathe.
“You just turned bright red. It’s … cute.” He shook his head as though he were clearing his focus and cleared his throat. Then, he rubbed at his brow again. “Anyway …”
Is Connor flirting with me?
But there was no way. He was beauty, and I was the blonde beast. I couldn’t fathom him actually flirting with me.
“Yeah, that’s my God-given talent. My face can turn so red that I look like one of those cartoon characters with their heads ready to blow. It’s a gift of mine that I’ve had ever since I was younger.”
He laughed. “You’re funny. I like that.” There was that weird staring contest happening again until he cleared his throat for what seemed like the millionth time and stood.
I wonder if he was coming down with something. Did he need a cough drop?
He knocked on the table twice. “I have a meeting in about ten minutes, so I’ll let you get back to your book. But let’s talk later about your decision.”
“Sounds good.”
He turned to leave, but then he stopped and turned back around. “Charlie … let me know what happens.”
“With what?”
“With the sexy, filthy boss. You know … if he gets the girl?” And then he winked and walked away.
Shit. Oh, shit.
I could’ve ignored all the little signs before, but now, I thought Connor Colby had been flirting with me.
Chapter 7
Charlie
I was one of five people who serviced Colby’s for the Chicagoland area that experienced computer problems. Mostly, I’d field calls and walk people through their issues on the phone, but there were certain times that I couldn’t solve the issues, and I’d have to do desk calls.
Nancy had called to tell me that her computer wasn’t working. She must have been close to eighty, which was past retirement age with her set of all-white hair and reading glasses, so I wondered why she was still here. I grouped her with the Alyssas of the world—those who worked because they believed in the company.
I pressed the power switch off to power down her computer, then pressed it again to turn it on. Sometimes, all a computer really needed was a reset. Didn’t we all?
“So, it’s your first week on the job?”
Her sweet voice reminded me of my own grandma, and a pang shot straight to my chest at the absence of her. She’d died when I was only a teenager, but still, we had been close.
“It is.”
“And you like this company so far, dearie?” She opened one of her drawers and pulled out a box of cookies. “Want one? Sometimes, all this candy is too much, and I want something sweet but not chocolate.”
I nodded with understanding. “No. It’s okay.” I patted my nonexistent hip. “Trying to watch my figure.” I winked.
“So, you didn’t answer my question.” Her eyes crinkled at the sides as she took a bite of her cookie.
“Oh, I like it here. I do. So far, everyone has been nice to me. And you can’t complain about the perks.” I leaned in closer as though it were a secret. “Especially unlimited candy and chocolates.” Even though it was a perk I didn’t care about, I was sure I was the minority. This made her laugh again. “How long have you been here?”
“Forever. I was here years ago when Colby Chocolates first started, and now, I can’t believe how fast and large it’s grown. We’re a nice little family here.” She took another bite of her cookie, and crumbs fell down her chin. She stuffed the cookie in her mouth and immediately grabbed for another one like a little kid.
Must be that good.
“Are you from around here?” she asked.
I reached toward the back of her computer and powe
red it up. “No, originally from Wisconsin. My mom got remarried a few months back, and so we’re living here now.”
“So, how are the new surroundings … the new family?”
“It’s been an adjustment,” I said. “The best thing about moving so far has been this job, to be honest.”
My newfound friendships with Alyssa and Casey made it easier for me to come to a job I didn’t care too much for. These connections I’d made were the reasons this job was enjoyable.
“I’m glad to hear that, dearie. The longer you’re here, the more you’ll find out that we’re one real-life family.”
“Keeping busy I see.” Connor’s deep baritone had me flipping forward, almost knocking my head against the screen.
The broadness of his shoulders and his tall height were overpowering, intimidating.
Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. There went my freaking racing heart, betraying me.
Goodness, my poor, fragile heart couldn’t take another episode like the one during lunch the other day, and plus, it’d made me overthink way too much. Had he been flirting or not?
“And you … shouldn’t you be working harder?” I sassed, reaching for the back of the computer, doing nothing in general because, shit, I wasn’t sure what was exactly wrong. It was either pretend to know what I was doing or go blind. Because looking at him made my eyes hurt. Like, physically hurt. Like, I had looked directly at the sun for far too long.
Nancy laughed at my comment.
“Nancy here couldn’t figure out why her computer wasn’t working.”
He reached for Nancy’s cookie box in her lap and tucked it under his arm. “I think you’ve had enough cookies.” The muscles in his jaw tightened, his gaze alert, as though Nancy were going to be grounded in the next hot minute.
Nancy crossed her arms over her chest, giving him the nastiest stink-eye.
Well, that was quite rude.
I snatched the cookies from underneath his arm and extended the box back to Nancy. “I think she’s old enough to decide when she’s had enough cookies. Don’t cookie-shame her.”
“Cookie-shame?” He plucked the box from Nancy again and tucked it back under his arm, giving me a firm, steady stare.
I openly gaped at him. Really? The nerve of this man, telling a grown woman what to do.
Nancy interrupted our staring contest, “I’m not into technology nowadays, but I think I know what it is. Maybe this is it.” Then, she turned on her computer monitor.
My gaze moved from Nancy to the computer to Connor and back again. Why didn’t I check that first? “Well, since that’s settled”—I wiped my hands in an exaggerated effect—“I think I’m done here.”
Nancy stood and gave me a full-on hug, arms around me so tightly that I was surprised by her strength, given her size. “Thank you for coming by.”
I froze. It was a little excessive, since I hardly knew her, but still oh-so nice. She was right. There was a family feeling with this company. I’d known that the first day I walked in here. My arms slowly wrapped around her but not as tightly because I was afraid to crush this little cookie destroyer.
I patted her back twice, and then when she released me, Connor stepped up to her and planted a kiss on her cheek.
Stunned, I reeled back. I knew this company was a close-knit group, but … shit …
“Bye, Nana. And no more cookies for you.”
Nana?
He turned to leave, and I followed him down the hall.
“She’s the cookie monster. She will eat a whole box of cookies within a span of five minutes if you don’t monitor her.”
“She’s your grandmother? But her name plate said Nancy Knicklebocker.”
He nodded. “She’s my mother’s mom. She’s my only living grandmother left.”
He reached for my elbow and guided me to the side, into the corner of the hall. He was so close that I could smell the mint on his lips, too close in a boss-subordinate situation, and I was a nano-second to hyperventilating.
“We need to talk.” His voice was firm, meaning business.
Can’t think. Can’t think with him being this close.
My breathing turned shallow, and I exhaled through my mouth.
“To talk about how I don’t like the branding of your signature chocolate? But we already had that conversation in front of the whole boardroom and CEO.” My tone was sarcastic, meant to lighten this mood between us.
He leaned in, his gaze alert. “I already apologized about that, and … actually”—his eyes flickered to my lips, and I held my breath—“that’s exactly what I want to talk about. Have you thought about my proposition?”
He was talking about me joining the rebranding initiatives, but my mind went straight to the gutter.
“I-I just don’t know. I don’t know if I can do what you want me to do.”
When a few workers passed us by, Connor took a healthy step away from me, running his hand through his caramel-brown hair. “Meet me in my office.” It wasn’t a question. It was a command, based on the tone of his voice.
He turned to walk down the hall, and I followed right behind him.
Why did I feel like I was a student walking into the principal’s office?
“Am I going to get fired if I say no?”
He turned around and gave me a quizzical look. “No. Why would you think that? I wouldn’t ever do that.”
Crap. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Where the heck was my brain-to-mouth filter when I needed it?
And of course he wouldn’t fire me. That would be a lawsuit waiting to happen. At least I hadn’t said anything that would have embarrassed me, like how his shirt today brought out the brown in his eyes or how just looking at him made my mouth dry and my heart palpitate.
I bit my inner cheek and reminded myself that I’d wholeheartedly decided that I shouldn’t think of him that way because, one, he was my boss, and, two, I needed this job.
Remember. Remember. Remember.
But it was hard to remember, especially when I was looking at a face like his.
We entered his office, and he shut the door behind me.
“Charlie, can you have a seat?”
As I walked to his oversize desk in front of a breathtaking view of the Chicago skyline, it was easy to remember who he was—the son of the owner of one of the largest chocolate companies in the nation. I could hear his feet pad toward me, but I didn’t turn around. I stayed, feet planted on the floor, until Connor swung around his desk, sat down, and steepled his fingers by his lips. I fiddled with my hands in front of me, walking slowly to the chair in front of his desk as though I were walking the plank of a ship.
“Have you made a decision, Charlie?”
“This is the thing: what if I can’t do what you want me to do?”
“All I’m asking you to do is try. Brainstorm with me, sketch up some initial plans, just do what you were born to do and give me ideas with that original vision you had in mind.”
I sighed, unsure.
He reached into his desk and pulled out the sketch of my imaginary chocolate that I’d drawn out at the bar. “I’m sorry. I stole this from you. But this is something I can work with. My marketing team can proceed this with vision.” He waved it in the air and smiled so beautifully that it made my heart hurt. “If you help me, we can work together to save my family’s company. We employ thousands of employees nationwide, and I can’t fathom failing them, unable to pull through. We need to give this company a fighting chance to succeed in this market and against our competitors. To do that, we need a whole new look, a whole new vision. Charlie, I’m asking you to help me.”
It was the kind of speech that took place on top of a podium in front of thousands of people, and it hit something deep inside of me—family.
I had to admit, it would be fun. It had been a fun thirty minutes at the bar, thinking with the girls on branding this imaginary chocolate bar—what the name would be, what the packaging would look like, what the logo would
be. I hadn’t seen it as work because it was enjoyable.
When I didn’t say a word, he walked to my side, sat at the edge of his desk, and crossed his ankles, facing me directly. “Charlie, seriously, I need you.”
When I still didn’t speak, he stood and dropped a little, getting in my line of sight. With the lightness of his fingertips, he placed one hand on top of mine. My skin was set aflame at his touch, and a jolt of electricity surged through me. I decided if he were the sun, then what I had just experienced was solar energy.
“Charlie, please.” He paused, mulling something over in his head. “I’ll make it worth your time. I know people in the industry. I have connections in New York with influencers who can get your work noticed. Just help me save my family’s company.”
I rolled his words over in my head. Shit, this could be huge. One major blast, and I’d be all over social media. I’d seen it spiral for other creatives. I could possibly be the next big thing, but that wasn’t my next thought.
“Why do you call it your family’s company? You are the son of the CEO. Doesn’t that mean it’s your company too?”
He reeled back, seeming surprised by my question. After a long sigh, he stood, anchoring himself against the desk again. “It’s complicated.”
It’s complicated. Wasn’t that the saying of the century? Life was complicated in general.
Curiosity ate at my insides, and I pressed him further, “I was talking to Alyssa and Casey. You are temporarily working here. So, you’re leaving?”
He sighed and rustled his hair with one hand. “The relationship with my family is complex. Beyond complicated. I knew the company was failing, yet I wasn’t gonna let it fail. The selfish part of me is very bitter toward this company. See, you don’t become this successful”—he paused, looking past me, above me—“without giving something up in return. Without sacrificing something.”
I wanted to press him further, but I knew now wasn’t the time.
The mood turned somber.
He stared blankly above me and slowly shook his head. “I really don’t want to get into it, but pushing all that selfishness aside, because my brother, because of Nana, because of the thousands of people we employ and their families and how they are so dependent on my family’s company to survive, I’m determined to save Colby’s. Not for my legacy, but for them.”