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“How about we go get some lunch?” Cherish’s smooth voice reached Haylee’s chaotic mind.
Haylee found Cherish standing over her computer, fingers on her desk, gaze locked on Haylee’s. When had Cherish moved? She always heard Cherish as she stood up. A light tap of fingers at the edge of the desk and a quick swish of wheels as she pushed away from the computer. If Haylee didn’t know Cherish, she might even have thought Cherish enjoyed the rolling chair with the same enjoyment as a child.
“Haylee?” Cherish’s voice was so gentle and soft. There was no clipped edge or demand in the tone. In fact, there was clear concern and worry.
Haylee scoffed internally. The worry was probably about nothing more than the workload if she didn’t snap out of whatever was happening in her head. She blinked as Cherish continued to look down at her. And then blinked a few more times.
“Come on. We can take a break now. My treat.” Cherish leaned down, her full palm on Haylee’s desk. The scent of her perfume reached Haylee, taking over her senses but not quite distracting her from the ass-chewing going on in the other room.
“Um.” Haylee flicked her eyes back to Febe’s closed door. There were still the rumblings of a highly pissed off employer behind that door, but the words were finally muffled.
“It’s okay. I’ve already emailed Ms. Aarts to let her know.” Sincerity crossed Cherish’s features.
“Oh.” Haylee nodded, taken aback. She gnawed on her lip, flicking her gaze from the door to Cherish and back again. “Um…am I next?”
“Next?” Confusion flashed through Cherish’s eyes, which helped ease the panic that rose in Haylee’s chest. Cherish might have been cold, but as far as Haylee knew, she’d never lied. In fact, she had been quite vocal about her hatred of the act on more than one occasion.
“To be fired?” Haylee finished the unasked question, figuring out far too late that Cherish had no clue what she was talking about.
“What?” Cherish snorted, a small sound that could almost be mistaken for a laugh escaped her lips until her eyes caught Haylee’s. Whatever she saw sobered her from the mirth immediately. “Of course not, Haylee. Come on. Let’s go have some lunch.”
“Okay,” Haylee agreed, because really, staying here would be akin to hell.
Her mind was numb as she reached for her purse and slung it over her shoulder. She’d never been much of a fashionista before, but since getting the job at Wellbeing Works, she wanted to fit in better in the corporate world. Like Cherish had so obviously done. Still, it never quite sat right with her.
Neither spoke as they walked out the main office doors and to the elevator. Haylee gnawed on her cheek again as she waited in the silence. She and Cherish had never shared a meal before. She’d always thought Cherish was too lofty to sit with her for a quick lunch. Then again, leaving the office unattended had always been a disaster—at least according to Cherish.
Haylee could see why.
Whatever would Febe do without her slave?
“Why would you think Ms. Aarts was going to fire you?” Cherish asked as they sat at a small table in the cafe on the first floor of the building.
Leave it to Cherish to ask her for lunch and then not take her truly away from the problem at hand. Haylee clenched her jaw as she sat down, glad a waiter came over immediately to take their order. Then again, she’d eaten there so many times on her short lunch breaks that she knew exactly what she was going to order. As soon as they were alone again, Cherish’s direct stare unnerved her.
“Why do you keep thinking you’ll be fired?”
Keep thinking? How on earth did Cherish know that? Haylee pressed her palms together, lacing her fingers and cringed. She’d done a horrible job at fitting in, hadn’t she? She’d been the odd woman out from the start, and there was no sense in even thinking that she could be someone she wasn’t. Except she wanted to be. Desperately.
“Haylee.” Cherish’s tone was almost a coo, a delectable siren’s song to pull information and fear right from Haylee.
“She doesn’t like me,” Haylee confessed, the words falling from her lips in an instant. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like anyone but you, and even that’s questionable.”
Cherish pressed her lips together hard, looking Haylee over intently. “Ms. Aarts isn’t the easiest boss to work for.”
“She loves you.” Haylee rolled her eyes, now unable to shut herself up. “I can’t even get her to give me a compliment on the smallest thing I do right, which means I know I’m doing everything wrong.”
“Haylee,” Cherish interjected. “You don’t do everything wrong.” Cherish fiddled with her silverware, as if the conversation made her nervous.
Her fingers were thin, long, and moved perfectly against the fork and spoon, as if she had no conscious thought to them. What would those fingers feel like against her? Haylee’s cheeks heated instantly. Shit. She could not be having those thoughts about someone so obsessed with Febe Aarts that she wouldn’t look at another woman. Except Cherish had looked at Haylee. Occasionally. On those days when Haylee wore something a little too low cut, or when she was bending over Cherish’s desk to ask a question and her cleavage was ample that day.
“Ms. Aarts is difficult, I understand that. But I don’t want you to think that she’s ready to fire you. In fact, I think she really likes you.”
“Likes me?” Haylee said, accusation in her tone. “She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you.” Cherish nearly rolled her eyes.
Haylee would love to see a moment when she did. It would make her human, almost. Just what would Cherish look like with her cheeks red from embarrassment—or better yet, arousal? Damn it. Haylee needed to get laid, especially if she was thinking about her coworker like that. The last thing she needed was some quick office tryst that really would throw her to the mercy of being fired.
