After a quick glance around to ensure I’m alone, I press the button to go up. “What would you have me do? I’m new to this. I’m scared.”
“I know you are, but that’s okay. Fear is good. It’s healthy as long as you don’t let it freeze you from growth.”
“Well, okay, smarty-pants.” I laugh. “I feel like you’re taking psychology classes on the side now or something.”
She laughs. “I’ve been reading about self-growth, and I have more to say.”
The bell dings, and the doors open. I step inside an empty elevator and make the selection for my floor.
“You better talk fast because I’m on my way upstairs,” I tell her.
The doors close.
“Shit. Okay,” she says hurriedly. “Here’s what you do. When speaking about work things, be a consummate professional. No flirting. No side-eyeing his body. No innuendos. But when you’re alone—and only when you’re alone—and the topic changes, and it’s not work-related, be … you. No. Don’t be you,” she adds in a rush. “Be a grown woman who’s looking for a good guy to treat her well. Pretend … Pretend you met him at the grocery store.”
I make a face. “You meet guys at the grocery store?”
“You’d be surprised. I have a friend who found her phone in the bananas. He took her to Vegas, and …” She growls. “We don’t have time for this story.”
The bells ring again, and the doors open. Kelly smiles at me from her desk.
“No, we don’t because I’m at my office,” I say softly.
“Pro, then go. Feel me?”
I laugh. “That’s a terrible rhyme.”
“But it works.” She laughs too. “Now stop overthinking everything and just relax. See what happens. Be open to the gifts of the world,” she says in her best Disney princess voice.
I shake my head and ignore Kelly’s quirked brow. “Goodbye, Lis.”
“Call me—”
I end the call before she says something silly … or suggestive. I don’t want to burst out laughing or blush wildly in front of my co-worker. Neither is a good look.
Scents of lavender fill the air but fail to whisk me off into a state of relaxation. Instead, my eyes drift to Oliver’s closed door.
My brain gets a running start with all of the things that might mean. Is he here? Is he actually avoiding me? Is he angry or frustrated or trying to work out how to let me go?
I take a long, deep breath. My stomach tightens as I drop my phone into my purse.
“Good lunch?” Kelly asks.
“Sandwich in my car.” I give her the easiest grin I’m able to dig up at the moment. “I know there’s a lunch room downstairs, but I like to sit by myself sometimes.”
“I feel you. Sometimes I race home just so I can lie in bed and watch twenty minutes of mind-numbing television midday. It’s a great way to decompress.”
“Ooh, what do you watch?”
“Whatever is on Bravo, usually. I’m a big Housewives fan.”
The elevator dings behind us. I spin around, the sound practically reaching out and knocking me sideways, and hold my breath.
The doors open.
“Hello,” Boone calls out, raising his coffee mug in the air in a salute of sorts. He walks into the room and stands beside me. “What are we talking about?”
“What shows we love,” Kelly says, smiling brightly at the handsome man next to me.
My gaze snaps to Boone’s, my nerves still riding high. I’m not sure if it was a good idea for Kelly to admit we were talking about Housewives instead of working, but it’s done.
Boone takes a sip of his coffee. “I’ve been watching Peaky Blinders. Good show. Have you seen it?”
I shake my head.
“Great show,” Kelly says, sitting back in her seat. “It gets better as it goes.”
“I’m just on season three, so that’s good to know.”
Our conversation is interrupted by a ding behind us. We all turn toward the elevator.
I was more prepared when it was Boone.
My heart races as Oliver steps into the room. His gaze turns from his phone to the three people staring at him. He glances over Kelly and Boone until he’s fixed on me.
I gulp and try not to fidget.
He looks glorious in a pair of chocolate-y tailored pants, a crisp white shirt, and a narrow tie that lays against his solid chest. A golden blazer makes his hair look lighter than usual and his eyes even greener.
His steps falter briefly before he tears his eyes away from mine. “What a welcoming party.”
He smiles at Boone and Kelly. It’s not the easy smile from last night or the one he couples with a laugh when it’s just us in his office. It’s practiced, rehearsed. There’s something about that I find appealing—he didn’t use that on me—but also nerve-wracking—maybe he’s using it because of me.
“I was telling them that I’m watching Peaky Blinders,” Boone says. “Ever seen it?”