After All - Romancing Manhattan

“Awww, how sweet,” she says. “Don’t ever do that in front of me again. I feel like I need to gouge my eyes out. Go to church. Take a bath.”

“You’re so dramatic, Gabs,” Carter says with a laugh.

“You’ve just ruined my whole childhood with that disgusting display. Are you proud of yourself?”

“Ridiculously proud,” Carter says. “And if one kiss ruined your whole childhood, I’m doing pretty well, I think.”

“I might need a puppy to make up for it,” Gabby says, making us all laugh.

Chapter Six

~Nora~

“That Quinn is one hunk of a hot man.”

I sigh and roll my eyes as I march right into the employee lounge.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” I demand, and both Stephanie and Mary turn to gape at me with wide eyes. “You two are still gossiping about this stuff?”

“I mean, it was just an observation,” Mary says, pushing her little chin in the air defiantly.

“You work in HR,” I remind her. “You of all people know the rules around here and should behave a lot more professionally.”

“Thank you,” Stephanie mutters with a relieved sigh.

“Wait, what?” Mary demands, turning to Stephanie. “You agree with me.”

“I smile and nod,” Stephanie disagrees. “That’s not the same. I’m just hoping you’ll shut your trap. I know you work in HR, and I don’t need you making my life hell, or finding a way to fire me, if I don’t listen to your gossip. But frankly, I’m done.”

Stephanie leaves the lounge, and I’m left with a seething Mary.

“I suppose you’ll go tattle on me and get me fired,” Mary says, glaring at me.

“I guess I just don’t know where all this animosity is coming from,” I say as I reach for a cup, filling it with hot water for my afternoon tea. “I don’t recall ever having an issue with you in the past.”

“You prance around here, in your perfect suits and your perfect shoes, like you’re better than the rest of us.”

I turn, gaping at her now.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You and the other personal assistants of the partners, you’re all just so snobby, it’s disgusting.”

“Number one,” I begin and set my hot water aside before I throw it on her.

That would be frowned upon.

“I’m not a personal assistant”—not technically—“I’m an executive assistant. And I don’t think I’m better than anyone. I’m doing my job. If you feel threatened by that, well, that’s not my problem. That’s on you.”

“I do not feel threatened—”

“Number two,” I interrupt. “If you have something to say about me, you can say it to me. I have some broad shoulders, I can take it. And yes, if you continue to act unprofessionally, I’ll make the recommendation that you’re fired.”

“Well.” Mary’s nose wrinkles in anger and she stomps past me to the door, leaving without another word.

“Nice talking to you,” I mutter as I finish making my tea, then walk to my desk. The Dickinson file is sitting on my desk, making my lips twitch and the horrible exchange with Mary melt away.

I open the file to find the expected note from Carter.

N—

Play hooky with me this afternoon.

—C

I sigh, shred his note, and reach for a blank piece of paper.

C—

We have too much work to do.

—N

I march into Carter’s office, which is currently empty, and lay the file on his desk, then return to my own and get back to work. Fifteen minutes later, Carter walks past me, nods at me, and disappears in his office. Less than three minutes after that, he comes out with the file, sets it on the corner of my desk, and returns to his office.

I bite my lip and open the folder.

N—

I’m the boss, and I say you take the afternoon off.

—C

I want to laugh out loud, but I manage to hold it in as I write a note in response.

C—

How funny. You may be the boss here, but you’re not the boss of our relationship.

—N

I walk it in to his desk. He’s on the phone when I set the folder in his in-box. I wink and turn to walk back out.

Ten minutes later, Carter’s whistling as he casually carries the file to me, places it in my hand this time, and without a word walks away.

This is getting ridiculous, but I admit, it’s fun.

N—

Are you saying you don’t want to spend the day with me?

—C

I frown as I shred that note and begin writing mine.

C—

Pack your bags, we’re going on a guilt trip!

—N

I walk into Carter’s office, and he takes the folder from me. But before I can walk out again, he says, “Wait.”

He opens the folder and reads my words, then looks up at me with humor-filled blue eyes.

“Spend the day with me.”

“Carter—”

“I’m not asking.”

He’s not moving from behind his desk, but he might as well be holding on to me with both hands, I feel so drawn to him.