Page 58 of Resting Grump Face
“Is morale that low?”
I get out of the chair and walk around to keep him from staring into my eyes because if he continues, I’m going to need another shower. “Also, no. Surprisingly, everyone seems to enjoy working here. At least that’s what I’ve gathered from my brief interactions with the few people I’ve met so far. Your whole boss-grinch-charade seems to work to your advantage. It must have created some sort of camaraderie among your employees. They might be a little scared of you, but they respect you and your work, and at first glance, they seem to take pride in working here. They did feel quite bad for me though when I told them I’d work directly with you, which makes me think they are very kind people.” I look for my notebook that I keep in my purse. “Anyway, I should get a move on.”
“With what?” Ryker’s eyes still haven’t stopped staring.
It’s not the staring that’s bothering me, it’s the arousal that comes with it. “You. I mean your image. That’s why you hired me, no? To fix your image?”
“Oh, that. Right.”
“Yeah, so I’ll need an office where I can set up. I’ll do a proper analysis of the status quo, come up with a plan, define some realistic goals, and then we can discuss which steps to take in order to reach them. Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy.” I imagine squishing Ryker’s dumb grump face with both my hands as if squeezing a lemon. Miles would appreciate the imagery.
He presses a button, and a second later, Barbara comes flying through the doors. “What can I do for you, Mr. Grayson?”
She really seems like a great secretary. Maybe a little too eager, but that’s probably the reason she excels at her job.
“A desk, a chair, a laptop, writing utensils,” he looks over at me with those forbidden eyes of his, “anything else you might require?”
A fucking orgasm or two so I can focus on other things again.
I shake my head. “Maybe a whiteboard?”
Barbara nods slowly. “Sure, not a problem. Up here every office is occupied, but I think we have some room down on 42.”
“Have them put it right there.” Ryker nods at the corner in his giant office that houses a mini-golf course.
“Or I could set her up in the conference room if that’s prefera?—.”
A single glance from Ryker cuts her off immediately, then he nods at the corner again. Barbara understands right away and disappears from his office. Or I guess our office, because it would appear we’re office buddies now. Which is great. That certainly takes care of my plan of silently slaving away without being seen or heard until I’ve made enough money to pay for Robyn’s debt and our emergency fund.
Ryker’s eyes finally let go of me when the phone rings. To my surprise, I am almost a little sad. Which doesn’t make any fucking sense. I mean, he is right there. He’ll look at me again, but for some reason I enjoy being the center of his attention. Naturally, I hate it just as much. Which is perfectly normal. All of those are perfectly normal emotions to have, I tell myself.
He answers the phone without a word. I can hear a muffled voice on the other side, but I can’t decipher what they’re saying. Without uttering a word, Ryker hangs up. Then he gets to his feet, straightens his shoulders and adjusts his tie. “Let’s go,” he says and walks out of the office.
I follow right behind. “Where are we going?”
“Out.”
“But I just got here.”
“So?”
We walk down a hallway and stop right in front of the elevator. I sigh and consider my options. What is he going to do when he finds out I don’t like elevators? Lock me in one? Maybe.
Then again, that might be good, actually, because I could sue him and save all of Haven with the settlement money. The doors open and Ryker steps inside, then holds them for me.
His questioning expression makes him look almost harmless. “Coming?” he asks.
“Ugh, sorry, but I can’t. If you must know, I am scared of elevators,” I admit and scratch my head in embarrassment. “You can go ahead. I’ll be there in about 45-60 minutes.”
Ryker processes my words for a moment, then, without a snide comment, exits the death trap. He opens a door to his left and waits for me to come. “Alright,” he says, “let’s literally go then.”
“Down the stairs?” I ask like some kind of moron.
“I will check to see if it’s feasible to have a slide installed. Maybe Paul was onto something with that idea, but until then, yes, I guess we’re taking the stairs.”
“Cocky doesn’t suit you,” I lie and squeeze myself through the frame of the door, which is largely occupied by Ryker’s broad body. Of course, he doesn’t even try to give me enough space. I catch a whiff of his scent. Today it’s the same one that already drove me crazy when we first met, and I know it could cause similarly bad decisions right now. Trying to get rid of it, I exhale deeply and start jogging.
It takes about 13 floors for Ryker to catch up. I can already feel my legs get heavier and heavier and I am not sure if walking down is actually easier than up. When we reach floor 42, I am pretty sure someone spots Ryker coming and quickly vanishes back into the office.
