Page 39 of Not In The Contract
She jumped at the sound of my entrance and whirled around. “Shit, sorry,” she gasped, a hand pressed to her chest. “God, you’re quiet.”
I glanced down at my sock-clad feet and back up at her pink face. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” I frowned. “I’m not exactly used to having people in the house.”
“No, it’s totally okay,” she said, brushing her long hair off of her shoulder. “That smells amazing, by the way.”
“I hope it tastes as good as it smells.” I smiled. “Take a seat. There’s no need to stand on ceremony. I’m no one important.”
I caught the flash of confused disbelief in her eyes before she schooled her expression and sat down. She’d set our places opposite each other, leaving the head of the table empty.
She saw where I was looking and quickly intercepted. “I didn’t know if you wanted the head of the table, or if you’d be okay sitting anywhere-”
“I don’t mind either way,” I cut her off, saving her from having to explain herself. “I find it a little less stressful to sit elsewhere. The head of the table is too much responsibility.”
“What kind of responsibility comes with the position at the head of the table?” she asked, her lips quirked on one side.
“It puts you at the center of attention.” I shrugged, dishing food onto Devon’s plate, mindful of how close my hands drifted to her. “I’d much rather be part of the conversation. I’ve found that’s where the brilliant ideas come from anyway.”
“That’s an interesting perspective,” she mused, her eyes glued to my hands. “Thank you.”
I smiled and dished my own food, my gaze snagging on the color in her cheeks. She blushed just as much as she smiled. It was comically endearing.
“Shall we talk business?” I asked, finally taking my seat and grabbing my fork.
Devon’s back straightened in response. “Of course.”
“Right,” I said, tapping the surface of the table where a screen illuminated. “I take it you’ve got some idea of what my schedule demands, yes?”
She nodded slowly and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t have it memorized,” she said apologetically. “But I’ve sent it to my phone to make sure I have access to it at all times.”
“I don’t expect you to memorize it,” I told her, and her shoulders visibly sagged in relief. “The only reason I’ve managed to memorize it at all is because I use the same patterns for meetings and I’ve been doing it for decades. But it will be demanding. And there may be times I’m not around to remind you where to go or what to do next.”
“I understand,” she said quietly.
“You seem concerned,” I pointed out, taking a bite of the chicken.
“To be completely honest with you,” she sighed, “I’ve never been great with schedules. I lose track of time easily. I don’t know if Paula mentioned that?”
Paula enjoyed sending me into the ring blind. Which is to say, no, she didn’t tell me.
“Is it a big enough issue that Paulashouldhave warned me?” I asked, fighting to keep the ire from my voice. I didn’t want to terrify the poor girl, but my schedule was iron-clad.
I would not change it.
For anyone.
Devon drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. “I’m known for being late,” she confessed, the pink in her cheeks darkening at the admission. “But that won’t be an issue here.”
I nodded and took another bite. I couldn’t ignore the tension coiled around my shoulders and tightening my neck.
“You’ll have to be more conscious of that if our time together is to be beneficial at all,” I told her calmly.
“Absolutely,” she quickly agreed.
I cringed. “I’m not your professor or your boss, so there’s no authority at play between us,” I told her. “I respect your work, and you respect mine. You’ll find that two months will fly by without even realizing it.”
The shift in her eyes told me she was extremely doubtful of that, but I didn’t press the matter.
“How about a little insight into your research?” I offered, watching her take a drink of water.
