Page 21 of Book Club Confidential

“I thought you might take the day off,” she said. “Or put in your notice. Can’t say I’d blame you.”

Humiliation stung Tessa’s cheeks at the reminder of the previous night’s rejection. “I slept in a little,” she said. “I thought it was time for a change of pace.”

“And wardrobe,” Millie said. She straightened as she looked Tessa up and down with a slow, approving nod. “Are you going somewhere after work? Perhaps a date?”

Tessa shook her head. “No. My best friends and I decided to turn over new leaves,” she said. “Plotting chaos and anarchy—you know how it goes.”

“I’d love to get in on that.”

“I’ll be in touch,” Tessa teased.

She moved down the hallway, catching looks from coworkers as she passed. Yes, she wore a fun dress. Yes, she’d let her hair fall over her shoulders instead of wrangling it into a headache-inducing, professional, but boring bun.

No, she would not complain, pout, or quit over the injustice of last night’s announcement. Hiring the wrong man for the job would be punishment enough for Xavier.

She delivered her lunch to the office fridge, then set her things on a desk in the common space. She took her time, sipping coffee and responding to emails before opening her ideas file. Inside, she added several utterly ridiculous thoughts on feminism and a resurgence of glow-in-the-dark content for increasing sales. Maybe it was the absence of a bun-induced headache or the possibility of catching an intellectual property thief, but the morning coffee tasted a little sweeter.

She moved her ideas file back onto the company network and named it as such, then closed it with a grin. Surely, she deserved to make a little mischief. Besides, if no one was out to steal her ideas and pass them off as their own, then no harm done.

She glanced at the clock, gauging how much time she had until the morning meeting. Then, on a whim, she typed Grant Gaines’s name into a search engine.

He’d been on her mind a lot since their meeting. Unlike Tessa, Grant had done great things in the past few years. He’d chased his dreams of opening a bookstore with a bar, then bravely pivoted when that path wasn’t all he’d hoped it would be. He took chances and redirected as needed until he found satisfaction doing something he loved. And he’d created an enterprise doing it.

Handsome, resilient, and impressive. Also a client, she reminded herself. Grant. Is. A. Client.

She pressed the return key, then scrolled through the pages of accolades her search returned. “Goodness,” she whispered. “You really have been busy.”

She opened the top article but didn’t finish the first paragraph before a few coworkers shifted and rose around her, packing up laptops and hustling away.

Meeting time.

Stalking the handsome investor would have to wait a bit longer.

Tessa took her time entering the conference room and filled the last available seat at the big oval table. Her usual team watched with expressions of slight confusion.

Xavier quirked a brow, a thin small smile on his lips. “All right,” he said. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get started.”

Nina caught Tessa’s eye from across the table and motioned, eyes wide, to her hair. She mouthed the word nice, then swept wiggling fingers across her chest, indicating she loved the outfit as well.

“Is there coffee for everyone?” Xavier asked. His tone suggested he asked the question to the room. His gaze, however, stuck to Tessa.

She looked around, then took a silent sip of her drink. “I think there’s coffee in the break room,” she said, when Xavier’s gaze didn’t move on. “I stopped at Roll with It on my way in.”

Peyton shook his head, casting a sidelong glance in her direction. “No coffee in the break room. I was just there.”

Nina pressed her lips into a tight line, clearly fighting a grin. Tessa hadn’t arrived early to make the coffee, and no one else had done it in her absence.

“Who makes the coffee?” Xavier asked.

“Tessa,” Peyton confirmed. His expression suggested she’d dropped the ball.

But fetching coffee was never part of her job description. That was something she’d done fruitlessly to stand out. The nagging sense she’d let the office down settled in her chest, and she worked to push it away.

Xavier stuffed his hands into the pockets of his gray slacks. “No problem. Why don’t we start by sharing what’s on tap this week and discuss how we can help one another? Jordan?” He looked to the marketing intern on his left, and she responded with a rundown of her goals. The agents continued, one by one, around the table until it was Tessa’s turn.

“I wrapped the fall campaign for Friendly Farmers Markets last week and delivered the follow-up survey via email. I’ll send flowers this afternoon for a more personal touch. They’ll be back in the spring. I’m also closing the details on an open house and soft launching campaigns for the new nail salon on Fifth Street and Talia’s Tai Cuisine on Front Street, respectively, this week. Also, one of our former clients came by and requested I help him with a new project yesterday. I missed you when I stopped in to share the news.”

Xavier nodded. “Yesterday was—busy.”