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We reach a bench near a pathway to a small forest around campus. I don’t refuse him when he pulls me onto his lap once seated.
“So, art... that’s your thing?” Harvey goes to the Art Institute of Chicago less than twenty minutes away from my campus.
He takes out a rolled joint and lights it before giving me a peck on the cheek. “Yeah, art is definitely my thing.”
“Did you sketch your own tattoo?”
“I did.”
“Well.” I clear my throat. “It’s beautiful—perfect even. And your brother?”
The twinkle in his eyes before his lips touch the joint again does something to my insides. “Henrik does what Henrik wants. At least while he’s in college studying business.”
We stare at the skyline for who knows how long. I barely know him, but so far, what I do know of him, I really like.
“Tell me your dreams,” he whispers in the shell of my ear as he fingers my collarbone.
I want to ask him what is up with his obsession with my collarbone, but I say nothing. Instead, I think of the answer I want to give him.
“I want to be happy: travel the world, maybe do my masters in conservation biology.”
“I can make you happy.” He squeezes his arms tightly around me and leans into the crook of my neck as he says, “Just give me a chance, and I’ll make you happy.”
On Tuesday, I’m officially on my own since Katherine no longer works here. Damon barks orders at me all morning, my mind worried I’ll forget a task he throws my way.
It doesn’t stop. I even shoo Emon and Marie away at lunch time.
It’s stressful—there’re too many things Katherine didn’t show me, so I’m stuck trying to figure them out while he expects perfection.
Hours later, I’m knocking on Damon’s door, stepping in as he calls for me to come in.
I can’t shake the fact that his manly voice leaves a tingle all over me.
I shouldn’t be feeling this way, this pull toward another man, not when I have Harv. But the thoughts are there, the feelings are there, as every step I take inside his office leaves a trembling sensation inside me.
“I need a few signatures,” I say softly, walking next to his chair to place the papers on his desk. He quickly stares at my heels before he signs everything with his left hand.
His signature is neat, cutthroat—like him.
I can’t help admiring the vanilla and spicy aroma of his cologne.
“Anything else?” A shiver runs through my spine at his voice alone, and suddenly despite my burgundy satin blouse, I’m cooler than a frozen piece of metal.
“No.” I pick up the stack of papers and make my way out when he stops me in my tracks.
“I’ll need you to do a summary for a few reports. Three of them can wait until tomorrow but I need a briefing note for the first report tonight...”
I turn around, wishing, hoping, that I could tell him off. This means staying way past five o’clock. This means not being home with Harv... and Claire potentially overstaying.
“Problem?” he asks, brow raised, with a fire in his eyes begging me to argue with him.
I don’t give him the satisfaction.
Instead, I straighten my shoulders. “Not a problem.”
I head to the copy room, scanning the documents he just signed. While I wait, I text Harvey to let him know I’m working late.
Once I’m back at my desk, I check Damon’s email, attaching the report, and get to work for what feels like hours.
