“Save it for another time,” Ward answers.
Then he pushes a button on the door and a privacy screen goes up between us and Reese.
“I forget the damn thing exists sometimes. Should’ve done it sooner,” he tells me.
I giggle and look up at him. “Was that really necessary? You had to know we’d be having these conversations today.”
“Yeah, but we’re having them on our terms. I’m not fielding an entire press conference with the driver.”
I nod because I get it.
This is barely an appetizer of the whirlwind to come. If I don’t pace myself, I’ll be dead from embarrassment ten times over before I ever get to enjoy my new riches.
Ten minutes later, we step out of the elevator together.
Nick is walking toward his office on the other side of the lobby.
He looks over his shoulder at us, grins, spins around, and closes the space between us. His mellow green eyes have a shine to them today that really stands out from Ward’s teal-blue.
“Have a good night, bro?” He punches Ward on the arm.
For a second, I pause, tuning them out.
I don’t have an enclosed office. I have a desk in an open space in the lobby.
Yeah, I’m not ready to have every random person on payroll stopping by and dying to know about our not-engagement until I have my bearings.
I grab my laptop from my desk.
“Hey, Ward, I’m working in your office today.”
He nods at me. “I’ll be there as soon as I kick Nick’s ass. Go ahead and send the email. We’ll have the all-staff meeting in twenty minutes. It won’t take me longer than that to pulverize my brother.”
Nick stays silent, an amused smirk pulling at his face.
I disappear into his office with a grin and a memo to set up.
Someone knocks at the office door a few minutes later.
I open it to find a woman I recognize, but can’t quite name from the quality assurance team.
“I think he’s in a meeting with Nick,” I say.
“Congratulations!” She grabs me and hugs me so tight it knocks my breath away.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“I had to stop by and give Ward my best. He needs you, lovely lady. I’ll catch up with him later.”
The elevator dings. A graphic designer with cat-eye glasses—Chelsea, I think—steps off of it before I can close the door and hide again.
“Paiiige!” she squeals, barreling toward me like a human cannonball.
I wave at her from the doorway. The quality assurance woman hasn’t left yet, and her lips turn up when she sees the designer.
So much for hiding.
She comes up to us. “Okay! Dish. You have to tell us how it happened.”
“I was wondering the same thing,” Miss Quality Assurance says. “It’s totally out of left field. None of us knew any fairy tales were happening around here. Was it the stress since Beatrice’s breakdown?”
“Oh, um, not at all. I’ve been crushing on Ward since we met.” Or at least crushing on his body since the weird night at the museum. “I wasn’t feeling well and he kind of took me under his wing, brought me water and Tylenol. And then when I was leaving, he chased some weird guy off who was trying to follow me. Total sweetheart.” It’s close enough to the truth, even if it comes out in a mess.
“But how’d the proposal go?” Chelsea the designer asks, stars in her eyes. “Was he sweet? Did he get down on one knee? Were there balloons?”
Quality assurance lady nods, rapt. “I can’t even imagine. I would die.”
And I think I did. Twice.
Once, when he slid that gorgeous ring I still can’t believe I’m wearing on, and looked at me like this wasn’t just for show.
And again, just now, when I realize I’m so freaking out of my element.
Relief floods me when Ward steps out of Nick’s office and walks toward us, opening the door with a surprised quirk of his lips. He’s at my side in seconds.
“Congratulations, Mr. Brandt!” QA woman calls as he rips me from her death grip.
Ward nods at her but doesn’t answer until he has us all safely contained behind his closed door. He looks at her.
“Thank you, Janice. Most of the company doesn’t know about this yet, so I’m going to have to ask you ladies not to say anything until after the meeting in five minutes.”
“Huh? It’s already on Twitter,” Chelsea says, adjusting her cat-eye spectacles.
I gasp. “Twitter?”
Ward shakes his head, visibly gritting his teeth.
“My dumbass brother knew we had an announcement today, but he chatted up this blogger at a club last night and gave her some sob story about how bad he needs a date to get through his brother’s wedding. He didn’t know she works for Osprey and the Tea. We’re going to clear the air. The meeting’s in five minutes, so it wouldn’t be a bad idea to head over.”