Page 110 of All's Well that Friends Well

“Good.” I squeeze her hand. “Because this job you’re doing now…it was never supposed to be permanent.”

“I know,” she says simply. She squeezes my hand too. “I’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll help.”

“You’d better.” She shivers, and I stop in place.

“You’re cold.”

“A little chilly,” she says, rubbing her arm with her free hand. “I should have put on a jacket. But I kind of wanted you to find me attractive.”

I blink as once again she speaks her mind without any censor, but I recover quickly. “I find you devastatingly attractive,” I admit, tugging my hand out of hers and then removing my jacket. “But if we’re dating, I’m getting to know you. Your insides. Not your…outsides,” I finish awkwardly. Slowly, carefully, I drape the jacket over her shoulders as she looks up at me, her expression difficult to read. “I told you your appearance was the least interesting thing about you; I meant it,” I say, using the lapels of the jacket to tug her closer. “Understand?”

In the glow of the nearby street lamp I can see the glaze of tears in her eyes, as well as something like surprise. But there’s sadness there, too, and I don’t understand.

“Does that bother you?” I say when she doesn’t respond.

Slowly, she shakes her head. “No,” she says, her voice quiet. “What bothers me is that when I wanted to be attractive to you, I just tried to be sexy. I hadn’t even realized, but…that was my go-to.” She swallows, her gaze far away for a moment, and then she meets my eye again. “When I could have been reading you poetry or something, you know? I was trying to be sexy when I could have been feeding you peach crumble instead, or teaching you how to plié.”

She means what she’s saying, I can tell as she babbles on, but she’s also deflecting. So I takemy cues from her, and we spend the rest of our stroll discussing places we want to go together until she’s back to herself.

“There’s a place in Boulder that offers cooking evenings,” I say when we reach her house, the windows shining with cheerful light. “That’s where I want to go with you.”

“Ooh,” she says, her eyes widening with excitement. “I wouldlovethat.”

“I know you would,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. It’s almost embarrassing how easily I thought of that idea when I first considered where I might take her for a date.

I could love her. If I let myself…I could love her. I couldchooseto love her, and I would fall into those feelings with ease.

I think I’m almost ready for that. So I squeeze her hand one last time. “I’ll take you on a date soon,” I promise. “Let’s see how things go, okay?”

She folds her arms and gives me a grumpy look. “I want more than that.”

I don’t try to hide my smile. “Goodnight, Miss Marigold.”

When she cocks her brow at me, I remember her insistence that I call her something else. So I open my mouth and make myself say the words—speak the name that’s been trying to escape for days, every time I talk to her.

“Goodnight,Jules.”

When I visitHR the next morning and inform Susan Miller that I’m entering a personal relationship with my PRassistant, Susan doesn’t look surprised. In fact, if anything, she looks happy.

Or—well, I think she looks happy. Susan is tricky to read. She has very few facial expressions, so it all comes down to the corners of her eyes and the set of her mouth. I’m not good at deciphering things like that. Juliet probably could, but she’s not with me.

Susan gives me some paperwork to fill out and then asks if I’ve discussed this change with Mr. Ring, at which point I decide that maybe I don’t like Susan so much after all. She looks too smug, the same expression I know Rod will be wearing when he finds out about this.

“Thanks, Susan,” I say, but it’s more of a grumble. I hand her the form I’ve filled out and then leave the office with long strides, just to avoid any more conversation about the topic. I pause just as I’ve reached the door, though, and turn around to face the desk again. “By the way, I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Ring started dropping by more than usual. Just a heads up.” I pause. “I also—” I clear my throat and then go on. “Thank you for your help with the breakfast. I wouldn’t have been able to do it myself.”

Susan blinks at me, this time with an expression I can easily decipher: surprise.

I just nod at her, and then leave the office, turning into the hallway.

It’s time for one last attempt at getting the sales team back on track.

JULIET

“All right. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready.” Luca’s words are resigned but clear, and I nod.

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