“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Drop it.”
“Fine, but I’m calling you first thing Sunday morning, and I want details.”
I raise an eyebrow, giving her a glassy stare. “There won’t be much to tell. Now, when are we going to do girls’ night?”
“What if we make a standing Tuesday night thing . . . you, me, and Dana?” she exclaims, clapping her hands together.
Smart girl. “I like that. I’ll ask Dana about it tonight at work, but we might want to lay off the alcohol a little bit.”
“Yay. Look, I’ve got to get back to work before Mr. Ryan starts looking for me. I think he’s still reeling from the way I acted Wednesday. Text me later.” As she walks away, I notice the red high heels she wears with her black and white ensemble. I have a whole new respect for that girl.
Before my thoughts drift back to Blake, I look back down at the color board I’ve been working on all day trying to decide what I’m missing. I never go for conventional because that’s not what’s going to set me apart. It’s not what’s going to help me achieve my ultimate goal—to become a top designer with a renowned national firm. I’m in the right place. I have award-winning people around me. The rest is up to me, and this is an opportunity I won’t let pass me by.
The phone rings, startling me a few inches out of my chair. For unimportant people like me, the cubicle phone rarely makes a peep. I bring the phone to my ear, expecting it to be a misdial. “Hello.”
“Ah, Ms. Fields, it’s a pleasure to hear your voice.” No introduction needed—Pierce’s voice is as discernible as a church bell on Sunday.
“How was your trip, Mr. Stanley?” It’s not like I’m going to tell him his voice or anything else about him is of any sort of pleasure to me.
“I believe I told you to call me Pierce.”
“And I believe you just used a title before my name. Besides, don’t you think that’s a little inappropriate?”
“I didn’t realize you had so much fire in you when I offered you the job.” His voice tells of an obvious smile. Even though I’m not with him, I can practically see his dimples and the creases around his eyes when his lips curl.
“Hmm, was my hair color an oversight?”
He chuckles—deep and reverberating. It’s enough to make me sit back in my chair and enjoy the banter-filled ride. “Nothing about you escaped me. Trust me.”
“So, what can I do for you, Pierce?” I keep my voice low enough not to garner any stares or spark the office rumor mill. In five days, I’ve learned that it’s not much different from high school as far as that goes.
“Come up to my office before you leave today. I have something for you.”
My mind immediately wanders off to what it could be. Instructions for tomorrow? A new assignment? Then it dawns on me that I’m not rattled because of that little question; it’s the thought of going up to his office. The way he looks at me. The tension hangs in the air like a thick fog. It’s hard to concentrate, hard to form words or even think. Tomorrow night is going to be very interesting.
“Okay,” I say nervously, “I’ll be up in a little bit.”
“I look forward to it.” He’s still got the smile . . . I hear it.
As I put the phone back on the receiver, the only smiling face I see is Blake’s. Why should I feel guilty about this when he doesn’t let me in? I know so little about him; he’s too complicated to figure out.
Noticing that it’s already half past three, I tuck my color board underneath my desk and head to see Pierce.
The elevator is empty, and the ride up to his floor lasts only seconds. I smooth my red pencil skirt and straighten the tuck on my black blouse before stepping out.
“Good afternoon, Lila. Go right back to Mr. Stanley’s office. He’s been waiting for you,” Jane greets, smiling behind her well-appointed desk.
“Thank you.” I smile back, and quickly make my way down the hall before I change my mind. My heels click against the marble, alluding to anyone around that I’m here. Click. Click. My heart pounds right along with it.
His door is open just enough that I hear his voice. Peeking inside, I see he’s on the phone. I step back to give him privacy, but he waves me in.
I bite my lip in an attempt to extinguish my racing nerves. They speed even more so when he motions for me to close the door. When I turn back around, he’s watching me with such interest—like a rare, classic car or an even rarer piece of art. I don’t know what to make of it, but then, I don’t know what to make of him.
I sink into one of the leather chairs in front of his desk and focus my attention out the window toward the cityscape. It’s hard to see anything from where I am, but I pretend it’s the most enthralling thing in the whole world. Anything to keep my eyes off him.
“Yes, we should have the deal done by next week,” he says with such confident authority. Just because I’m not looking at him doesn’t mean I’m not listening. His voice commands it.
“I’ll be making a trip to New York next week to wrap it up,” he adds, tapping his fingers on his mahogany desk. His eyes are still on me. I feel them.
“You too. We’ll touch base next week.” The phone clicks, my signal to look to him.
He leans back in his chair, loosening his tie just enough to undo the button on his collar. “You kept me waiting, Lila.”
“I was working on something,” I answer. His green eyes have a gray tint to them, accented by his suit.
“Maybe I have to rework the apprenticeship program to free up your time.”
I cross and uncross my legs, not quite able to get comfortable under his stare. “I like being busy. It makes the day go faster.”
“That it does,” he quips. He pulls his desk drawer open and holds up a white envelope with my name scrolled at the top. “Since the benefit is a work function, I have a couple things for you.”
He slides it across his desk, his eyes never leaving me. I hope he doesn’t notice how my fingers tremble when I pick it up. The silence indicates that he expects me to open it right here in front of him. Maybe it’s just a ticket or a copy of the invitation, I think as I slip my fingers inside. What I come out with leaves me gasping.
“It’s a black tie affair,” he says simply as I slide the black American Express between my fingertips.
“I can’t—”
“You will. I invited you. I don’t want to be presumptuous, but I’m assuming you weren’t quite prepared for this kind of event.” He raises an eyebrow as he surveys me.
“No,” I whisper. I suddenly feel out of place and extremely uncomfortable. I hadn’t thought that far into it—what I will wear, how I’m going to do my hair. I might have to call in Dana for this one.
“So we’re set. I’ll pick you up at seven.” There’s a twinkle in his eye.
“I’m not going to use this.” I toss it on his desk, but he slides it back toward me.
“I insist.”
“Pierce—”
“Lila.” He grins, rising from his chair and coming around the front of his desk. The woodsy cologne he wears overtakes my senses, practically making me forget what I was fighting for.
“We’re all set,” he says again, crossing his arms over his muscular chest.
I nod, swallowing down the other questions that threaten to escape my lips. Why are you taking me? Who’s going to be there? Can you please not wear that cologne?
“Good.” He holds his hand out to me. I just stare at it for a few seconds, uncertain, and then place my hand in his. His skin is warm and soft against mine as he helps me from the chair and leads me to the door.
“I hate to cut this short, but I have a dinner I need to attend.” He uses his free hand to open the door, and I don’t miss how the thumb on his other hand brushes over my knuckles. It feels uncomfortably sensual, yet I can’t pull away.
Before letting me go, he stands in front of me, brushing a strand of loose hair from my eyes. “Black looks nice on you, but I’d like to see you in green. See you tomorrow night, Lila.”