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“So we need to get her laid or something just as fun to keep her happy, yeah?” Haylee meant it as a joke, as a brash comment that would lighten the suddenly dark mood, but it didn’t come out right. It didn’t land well. And she saw her entire work life flash before her eyes in an instant.
Cherish spluttered as water spewed from her mouth and covered her pristine desk in fine droplets. She coughed a few times as Haylee did everything in her power not to panic at her newest blunder. Why couldn’t she ever get control of herself?
“That’s enough.” Cherish stood, fire in her eyes and a cruel twist on her lips.
Haylee stepped back, unsure if Cherish was going to fire her on the spot or inflict physical pain. She’d seen others receive this stare, and her sympathy for them increased tenfold.
“I’m going to clean this up, and you’re going to stop discussing our boss in such a disrespectful manner. Do I make myself clear?” Cherish pointed one finger at her sharply.
Haylee nodded, unsure if words would actually come out if she tried. The lump in her throat had all but closed off her ability to breathe, let alone speak.
She’d heard many people in the office talking about Cherish Barkley and her bark, and Haylee had seen her snap and be rude to some people. But only when they had deserved it. And only when protecting Febe.
Had she really crossed a line talking about Febe that way? She was joking, mostly. She’d never had a coworker not complain about their boss. It was camaraderie, banter, nothing more. But this was so much more than that. This was as if Haylee had thrown a bomb into Cherish’s perfect world.
Stumbling back to her own desk, Haylee focused on her work as best she could. She should have cleaned up for Cherish, helped her at least. She should have done more than make herself look like an idiot in front of the only coworker she’d managed to keep for longer than six months.
Just over an hour later, the phone on Cherish’s desk rang. Haylee couldn’t stop herself from looking up, wondering if this was her doomed firing to come. Cherish lowered her voice as she spoke in hushed tones. She shot Haylee a sharp glare before she rushed into Febe’s office, closing the door behind her.
Haylee whimpered and leaned back in her chair. She had been sitting far too stiffly as she worked, scared to let even one iota of her walls down. Her mind whirled with all the potential problems that could arise from one simple comment. She had talked herself into being screamed at by Febe and Cherish in a tag team effort, to being fired and having to let her brother know that she had once again failed to secure a long-term position. This time it would be even worse, because for the first time she truly believed she could find a way to help veterans and their families. Thank God she wouldn’t have to tell all of them she’d failed.
“I’ll take failure again for five hundred. Thanks, Alex,” Haylee muttered to herself as she shook her head, the ends of her hair brushing along her jawline as she forced self-pity from her thoughts.
Yeah, she was feeling the pressure of being thirty-three and not having her shit together, but she wouldn’t let this negative self-talk overtake who she was. Every muscle in her body was stiff, and she knew that Febe wasn’t the one who needed to get laid.
How long had it been?
Haylee hadn’t been out on a date since Tori, and while she had gotten a friend and a delicious recipe for brandy snap baskets out of the deal, it hadn’t exactly filled her other needs. Tori had been caught up in another woman. They’d spent the night solving Tori’s love problems instead of Haylee’s physical needs.
The door opened, and Haylee straightened in her chair, eyes laser-focused on her screen. She hadn’t relaxed for a moment. She’d never cop to that.
“Haylee.” Cherish stood in front of Haylee’s desk, her fingertips white as she leaned down to catch all of Haylee’s attention.
“Yes, Cherish?” Haylee looked up, swallowed the lump in her throat and prepared for the inevitable firing.
“I’ll help you.”
“Excuse me?” Haylee’s eyebrows pinched as they bunched together.
“If you help me with the gala, then I’ll help you organize a proper presentation for Ms. Aarts about specializing in veterans and active-duty military.” Cherish’s voice was nothing more than a whisper.
“Why?” No one had ever helped Haylee before. Not like this. And she would be remiss to trust her.
“Because I think it’s a good idea.” Cherish looked as though her mouth had filled with lemon juice instead of praise. “And I really do need your help with the gala and ensuring it goes off perfectly and allows the Holbrook Foundation to continue for the next year. Preferably until Ms. Aarts dies, since that’s the only way she’ll give it up.”
Haylee wanted to pry into that, but she bit her tongue. The last time she’d said what was on her mind, it didn’t go well. “Does that mean you’ll finally tell me what happened last year to get everyone’s panties in such a twist?”
“No.” Cherish’s sour expression returned, and Haylee waited for another scolding. “But as I said, I’ll help you with your presentation. After the gala, of course.”
The idea hit Haylee hard. Despite her internal agreement not to say what was on her mind, she couldn’t let this opportunity pass. Not when it was so good.
“I’ll help you on one condition.” Haylee stood up and came around the desk, leaning against it. Cherish was closer this way, close enough to touch if Haylee wanted to—which she didn’t. She definitely didn’t want that. Their shoulders almost brushed, and the lean lines of Cherish’s chin and neck were perfect from this angle.
“Excuse me?” Cherish looked down her nose and narrowed her eyes.
“If I help you, and it goes off without a hitch, you help me with the presentation and tell me what happened last year.” Haylee crossed her arms and pressed her breasts up, knowing that the cleavage was working to her advantage since Cherish dragged her gaze down her body and then flicked her eyes back up.
Cherish’s breathing quickened. “And what happens if it doesn’t go off without a hitch?”
