Page 36 of A Gift of Time
“I just think it would show any potential clients that we don’t just talk the talk about advertising,” I said, tapping into my creative side and using those skills against my own boss. “A new image for the company is what will help push us to that next level, Mr. Stanford. A picture says a thousand words. We know this all too well with our profession. We spend hours analyzing a single image for billboards and magazines. But you have to ask yourself… when a client walks into our office and sees such a lifeless, drab lobby… what does that say about us and the message we hope to send?”
Rick smirked and pointed at me. “You’re good, Mr. Taylor. A little too good. All right. I’m sold on the idea. Did you have a certain person in mind for the job?”
“In fact, I do,” I said, picturing Caden’s face in my mind. “And he’s perfect.”
***
“You what?” Caden asked with wide eyes.
“I got you a job,” I said before explaining my conversation with Rick. “He says you can come into the office, look around, and get some ideas going. Then, after Christmas, he’d love for you to re-decorate the whole place, focusing specifically on what people see when they first walk in.”
Caden regarded me with awe. “Do you really believe in me that much?”
“Of course. You’re damn good at what you do, Cay.” I walked into my bedroom, undoing my tie, and called to him. “What do you want for dinner? I’m thinking Thai.”
His response wasn’t immediate, so I walked into the closet to take off my shoes and put them back in place.
When I turned around, he was right behind me, and I jumped.
“Sorry,” he said with an amused gleam in his eyes. “I didn’t want to shout. Before you got home, I stopped by the store and picked up a few groceries. Is it okay if I cook us dinner? If not, that’s okay, I—”
“That’d be excellent,” I cut in, remembering the amazing meals he used to make. “Do you want me to help?”
Memories stirred of when we used to be in the kitchen together; him seasoning chicken and placing it in the skillet to panfry while I washed and chopped vegetables. I wasn’t a great cook by any means, but I’d enjoyed helping him.
“Can you peel potatoes?” he asked in a hopeful tone. He bit his bottom lip and his expectant gaze lingered on mine.
My heartbeat accelerated, and my mouth felt suddenly dry. He was too fucking sexy.
“Sure.”
He left me alone so I could finish changing out of my work clothes and into more casual ones. I put on a pair of jeans and a V-neck sweater before walking back out into the living room.
The Christmas tree was lit, and the only other lights in the area came from the fire and two lamps that hadn’t been there when I’d left this morning. He must’ve bought more than groceries while he’d been out.
I grinned and walked closer to examine them.
They were red to match the wall, with a cream lampshade. It blended nicely with the dark furniture and mahogany side tables. Not that it came as a surprise, but he’d been right when he said that lamps would add a different feel to the room. They certainly did.
Caden was already in the kitchen, prepping the food. He retrieved a baking pan from the bottom cabinet before coating it in non-stick spray.
As his attention was elsewhere, I watched him.
Every move he made was with purpose and grace. If I wasn’t careful, I could spend hours studying every part of him—the way his blond hair curtained in his face when he looked down, the way his brow wrinkled with concentration, and the delicate movement of his hands as he worked.
“Are you going to stand there and stare at me all night?” he asked, peeking up at me with a sly smirk. “Or are you gonna come and help?”
My face heated, and I walked under the arched entranceway into the kitchen. “I wasn’t staring at you,” I lied. “I was looking at the new lamps.”
“Do you like them?” After placing seasoned chicken breasts in the pan, he went over to the sink and washed his hands. “I know I should’ve waited for you to be with me before I went looking, but it was spontaneous. I passed the shop on my way to the grocery store and saw there was a sale going on, so I bought them on a whim.”
He never could resist a good bargain.
“They’re great. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.” I joined him behind the counter and looked around. “Okay, what do I do first?”
He smiled and lightly bumped my shoulder with his before handing me the peeler, along with a small bag of baby red potatoes.
As I peeled potatoes, he stuck the chicken in the oven and washed off the green beans before plopping them in a skillet with a little oil. Once the potatoes were peeled, he showed me the best way to chop them, and then I dropped them on a baking pan and put in the oven with the chicken.
