Page 23 of Joy to Noel
I’m offended by how not awful it is.
Faking a cough, I give Liam my best accusatory eyebrows. “I don’t know—tastes pretty bitter to me.”
He gives me a smug smile in return. “You are such a liar.” I roll my eyes but take another sip.
Gosh darn it, this is actually pretty good.
“If you enjoy the variety of teas I saw on your kitchen counter, then I know you have the refined palate to taste the different notes in the coffee,” Liam says. I stand a little straighter at the compliment. And mentally glitch over his casual snoopiness when he was in my cabin the other night. I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s matching my game.
He motions toward the mug. “What do you taste?”
I take a longer drink, paying close attention as I swallow. “Warm, earthy undertones. Like chocolate or nuts or something. It’s not acidic or fruity at all.” Liam gives me an approving look, and I can’t help but smile. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Liam nods as he says, “Cocoa, hazelnut, and caramel—it’s a single origin bean from Brazil. It brews really smooth without any acidity or bitterness. You can go ahead and admit that you like it,” he adds as I’m taking a full drink.
I groan as I turn away from him, holding the mug with both hands. “Fine. I admit it. But I don’t necessarily like itbetterthan tea.” My eyes scan the space of his cabin. It’s larger than mine with a spiral staircase leading to a loft, but otherwise the layout is the same, simply bigger. The bed is neatly made, and I notice (with smug delight) several suits hanging on the bar by the bed.
Swiveling around, I lock eyes with Liam, which could be a bad idea for my runaway hormones. “I’m seeing an astounding number of blazers hanging up over there.”
Liam leans against the counter, crossing one ankle over the other and folding his arms across his chest. The casual pose is doing nothing to corral my hormones. Neither is the self-assured smile on his face. “I already told you I like suits. That’s not a dirty secret.”
I swallow hard before plastering a smirk on my face. “How many?”
“I have enough,” Liam says, his lips twitching slightly. I raise my eyebrow in challenge. “Eight,” he finally admits on a sigh.
“Here—but you have more that you left at home?” I prod. He makes a “whatever” face. Itskmy tongue, turning a full circle in the room as I take another appreciative sip of coffee (and keep an eye out for the cat that is no longer on the bed—that gray devil might sense my sarcastic teasing of his master and attack me).
When I turn back to Liam, he’s restarted the coffee brewing process with an insulated to-go mug. “You're taking coffee with you to work, or is that a second cup for me?” I quip.
He looks over his shoulder at me with a smug smile. “Told you I’d convert you.”
“You didnotconvert me,” I snap back. “I’ll be happily drinking tea the rest of the day while I accomplish twice as much as you do, Suits.”
Liam fights a smile as he swirls water over the coffee grounds. “We’ll see about that, MJ.”
Chapter twelve
Liam
As I drive the seven minutes to the factory, I do my best to wipe Madison’s face from my mind’s eye. I have a long list of questions that need answers, and that’s what I should be focusing on.
Not the scent of tea tree and eucalyptus that emanated from Madison’s damp hair. The fragrance knocked me off-kilter when she bent closer to me trying to pet Hamlet, reminding me of the stash of essential oils that Halmeoni kept as remedies. I was always drawn to those particular smells that were so bright and fresh—the pure aroma waking up your brain.
I was almost grateful for Hamlet swatting Madison’s hand, since it snapped my brain out of the enchantment. When she stepped so close to my shoulder to watch the coffee brewing process, I had to breathe through my mouth just to keep myself from being spellbound again.
Hana has it all wrong—I’m not in love with Madison, nor will I ever be. It would be stupid to fall for someone who’s destined to only ever be a temporary acquaintance.
But I can acknowledge that Madison is slightly hypnotizing.
Which is not what I need right now. Or ever.
What I need is to figure out how this factory has managed to deviate so far from standard operating procedures in a matter of a few months. Pure Fur All is a newer pet food company, but its other two production plants seem to be running light-years better than this one, at least on paper.
When I walk inside the facility, I drop my bag off in my office before heading to view the production line. I’m hoping to catch a glimpse of everyone in action when they don’t expect my presence there. I stay up on the stairs out of the way, happy to see that the production floor is efficiently humming along. Turning to leave, I notice something new on the giant whiteboard hanging on the wall of the production floor.Target production goal: 60,000 pounds per day.
Assuming that this was Beau’s work, I make a mental note to commend him on the initiative. And then I make another mental note to get a TV screen where hourly updates of numbers can be displayed so that employees know if they’re on pace or falling behind.
After interrogating the sanitation specialists and engineers about their processes, I head to meet with Mark, who’s in charge of HR and finance. I’m a little surprised that one person is covering both departments, but at this point, I should stop being surprised by any level of mismanagement at this facility.
