“Of course. No problem.” Remembering her logic as to why she wouldn’t let me pick her up yesterday morning, I said, “I take it you’re okay with me seeing you naked now?”
Her face pinked up. “What?”
“Relax.” I laughed. “I wasn’t propositioning you. I was using your analogy from the other day when you were okay with me knowing where you lived but not seeing your building.” Although I suppose she’d figuratively shown me herself naked in the last twenty-four hours, too. I knew the details of her breakup, that she was adopted, even some of the things on her crazy Fuck-It List. It troubled me that learning all that made me feel closer to her.
“Oh.” Charlotte laughed and sat back into the passenger’s seat. “Yes, I suppose I’m okay with you seeing me naked now.”
After that, she relaxed for the rest of the ride to the city. I, on the other hand, definitely did not relax, with thoughts running through my mind that Charlotte was okay with me seeing her naked.CHAPTER 12
CHARLOTTE
The office was eerily quiet.
It was early, but not so early that I expected to unlock the front door to the office suite. Even though I’d stayed until after seven last night, I hadn’t gotten as far as I’d wanted to with Iris’s project list. So I’d come in at six thirty this morning to get a jump on the day.
After flipping on all the lights and booting up my computer, I headed to the break room to make a pot of coffee. While I waited for it to brew, I decided to clean some spills inside the refrigerator that I’d noticed on Monday. It looked like a container of orange juice had spilled on the shelf at one point, and no one had bothered to wipe it up. I grabbed some paper towels and Formula 409 spray from underneath the sink and bent to clean the glass on the middle shelf while the smell of coffee percolating filled the air. The back wall of the refrigerator had some hardened orange gunk, too, which I could only reach by pulling the shelf slightly out and stretching my entire arm inside and up the rear wall. That was exactly the position I was in, my body bent as I scrubbed the inside of the refrigerator and my ass prominently on display, when a man’s voice from somewhere behind me scared the shit out of me.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I jumped and whacked my head on the shelf above where I was cleaning.
“Ouch! Shit.”
Attempting to stand, I realized that not only had I banged my head, but I’d also managed to get the top of my hair stuck on something inside the refrigerator.
“What the fuck, Charlotte?”
Of course, it had to be Reed.
Visualizing what he was seeing, I took a deep, cleansing breath before speaking. “I’m stuck.”
“You’re what?”
I waved my hand, pointing to where my hair was caught. “My hair. It’s stuck on something. Can you take a look?”
He mumbled something I couldn’t make out and then came to stand behind me. Leaning down, he had to bend over my ass to see what my hair was caught on.
“How the hell? Your hair is wrapped around the lever that you crank to make the shelf higher and lower.”
“Can you just unwrap it? Or cut the piece off if you have to. This isn’t exactly a comfortable position.”
“Stay still. Stop squirming. The way you’re moving around is making it tighter.”
I stayed as immobile as I could while Reed had one hand on my head and the other working to untangle whatever I’d snagged. It wasn’t easy, considering my body was acutely aware of the close proximity of his. But once I stopped moving, it took only a few seconds for him to free me.
Rubbing my head where the root had been yanked, I stood. “Thank you.”
Reed folded his arms over his chest. “Do I even want to know?”
“I was cleaning a spill and my hair must’ve gotten caught.”
“You came in before seven in the morning to clean out the refrigerator. We do have a cleaning crew, you know.”
“No. I came in here to make coffee. But while I waited, I figured I could clean the spill since I’d noticed it the other day.”
The coffee machine beeped, signaling the brewing was done, so I turned and grabbed the mug I’d brought in and poured a cup. Turning back to Reed, I held up the pot. “Do you have a mug?”
“No. I just use the Styrofoam ones we keep up in the cabinet.”
I frowned. “Those things are so bad for the environment. You need to get a mug.”
Reed squinted at me. “Did Iris tell you to say that?”
“No. Why?”
He reached over my head, opened the cabinet, grabbed a Styrofoam cup, and then took the pot from my hand. “Because she’s been harping on me about that for years.”