She didn’t tell Paxtyn either. She had her own troubles to think of, namely the fact that her rent was due and neither of them could cover it. So Paige moved her sister in with her. Brady, Paxtyn’s friend, and his boyfriend Tyler helped with the packing and carrying. Tyler had a two bedroom, (he’s a big shot in advertising) so he let them store some of her stuff there. They probably would have asked her to move in with them, but she’s allergic to their dogs. Tyler has four tiny Yorkies who were spoiled beyond the telling of it and had more expensive haircuts than Paige did.
She settled Pax into the only bedroom, and Paige took the couch. It wasn’t a bad couch, and like Paige told her, she fell asleep there a lot anyway when she was watching TV at night. She could tell her sister felt bad about it and didn’t want to take the bed, but Paige couldn’t handle making her sleep on the couch.
“It’s payback for when we were kids, and you let me have the top bunk,” Paige told her.
“Right,” she said dubiously.
“You’d do the same for me, and we both know it,” Paige said.
“When I’m back on my feet, we’re swapping, and I’ll take the couch,” Paxtyn said.
“You bet,” Paige told her, wishing so hard that it would happen. That her sister would be well again, finish treatments, get to have a real life again. No more living from doctor’s appointment to doctor’s appointment and afraid to check the mail because of the bills.
At work, at least she didn’t have to worry about running into the CEO. It wasn’t like she’d ever met the guy in all the months she’d worked for Conners. Hell, she didn’t even recognize him as the CEO. He seldom strayed below the executive floors.
Still, when a sheaf of red roses arrived at her desk on Monday, she knew who they were from. His name wasn’t on the card. All it said was, I want that deal back on the table.
She grinned as she thought about the way that designer suit fit his broad chest and powerful shoulders to perfection, to make the most of his muscular physique. The man carried himself proudly, smiled like a movie star, and had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. She couldn’t stop thinking about his chiseled, handsome face, the stubble on his jaw, or his soft lips. Matter of fact, she couldn’t get those butterflies in her stomach to stop turning flirting somersaults.
This man was consuming her thoughts. No, it was her damn boss. And she knew getting involved with her playboy boss was bad news. No way it could end well.
All morning she couldn’t stop smiling. When Gina popped down during lunch, she demanded to know the identity of her mystery date. She wasn’t falling for the cover story that it was a company client like everyone else did. Paige said it was just someone she met last weekend, some conceited hot guy who didn’t like it when she turned him down.
“And he sent you flowers? You turn down a hot guy and get flowers. I turn down a fat guy and end up sitting at home watching Outlander alone. Unfair!” Gina said.
“He’s a total show off,” Paige said, which was true. She wanted to tell Gina the truth, but she felt like she shouldn’t reveal his plans for a fake fiancée. That was his business, and his business only. She didn’t want to spread office gossip.
Paige touched the flower petals almost lovingly. She’d never been sent flowers before, much less huge, stunning long-stem roses in perfect, fairytale red. She snapped a photo of them with her phone. Maybe she’d show it to Paxtyn later. Or maybe she’d just look at it herself and think how surprising and beautiful they were. It wouldn’t change her mind, of course. Technically, she should refuse the flowers, send back anything he tried to give her. But she liked them. Hell, she liked him.
The next day, her roses were still in full bloom. She loved coming back from the copier and seeing them in her office like a blaze of cheerful color. Like it or not, she had to admit that the flowers made her feel wanted and special. Paige caught herself wearing a skirt to the office instead of her usual pants. She argued with herself about going up to Gina’s office to bring her a coffee. There was a first-class coffee machine on the executive floor, so Gina hardly needed a Starbuck’s fix, but it was an excuse to run into Luke Conners. Paige tried to talk herself out of it, but soon she was on the elevator for the top floor.
As she swept toward Gina’s office in her pencil skirt and heels with a macchiato in tow, Paige wished she had more pride. She shouldn’t be running around the building trying to ‘accidentally’ encounter Luke Conners, a man she’d turned down. It was juvenile and silly. Why did this man affect her on such a deep level? She also sort of wished she’d taken her hair down so it would be loose on her shoulders. It was embarrassing, trying to be a dignified professional and still worrying if her hair looked pretty.
She found Gina’s office empty, so she left the coffee on the desk with a note. That left her with no excuse to hang out on the top floor. It wasn’t as if she could scurry around searching for Gina to give her the emergency news that she had coffee waiting on her desk. She was probably in a meeting. A meeting with Luke Conners perhaps. Paige bit her lip, regretting her upper floor gambit all the way down in the elevator.
Her plan didn’t work. She missed him. Maybe she should’ve come earlier.
When she returned to her desk, there was a box waiting there. A classy looking box—the matte white sort trimmed in a narrow border of uptown sliver. A designer’s name was embossed on the lid.
Her eyes widened. “What?” she whispered to herself.
She lifted the lid to find a pair of sumptuous, pale pink designer shoes in her size with a note that read: You were barefoot when we met. Those electric pink toes deserve something nice to wear. She felt a blush color her cheeks. She lifted the beautiful shoes from their fragile white tissue paper, held them up and looked at them from every angle, every tiny, perfect stitch in the supple leather, the smooth sole and low, flat heel.
He remembered the heels were killing her. The man took notice of detail. She kicked off her high heels and stepped into the new shoes. They seemed to mold to her feet, light and soft. She stood up, marveling at the perfect fit. How had he known her shoe size? Surely that wasn’t in her HR file. Her Social Security number, yes. Her work history, yes. Size eight narrow? No way. That’s not something you can guess by looking at a person. He remembered her toenail polish, her bare feet. He’d really seen her. She wanted to twirl around in the lavish shoes, but she tucked them safely back in the box and put her own heels back on. She slid the box under her desk and got back to work. She peeked at the box several times like a secret. Her heart pumped harder, and her lips curved into a smile when she saw the shoebox, such a thoughtful and beautiful present.
On her way to the water cooler to get a drink, she saw him. Luke Conners. A sighting in the wild. It was so unprecedented she wanted to whip out her phone and take a picture just to prove she’d seen the man below the thirtieth floor. She hurried toward him.
“What are you doing down here?” she said with a smile.
He grinned. “Paige, you might not realize this, but I’m the chief executive of this company. I have security clearance to ride the elevators,” he deadpanned.
She laughed. “It’s just...well, I have never seen you on this floor.”
“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough,” he said, “I toured the entire buildin
g when I was hired. I promise I’ve been to all the floors.”
“You’re teasing me,” she said flatly.