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I shook my head. Just because I didn’t work for Colton didn’t make me irresponsible. But he would never see it that way. Not until I showed him how much I didn’t belong here.
“Not a problem,” I said. “I’ll get right on that.”
Turning to the auditors, I smiled. “I’ll get you those papers right away.”
“Thank you,” she said and fired up her laptop.
Then I left and walked toward the staff room, thinking which ingredients I could use next to make an omelet, leaving any further thoughts of Meany Sweeney and my task behind.
3
Grace
James looked down at his watch again.
“How long has it been, James?” I asked, not looking up from my laptop.
“One hour,” he said. “I’m sure he’s just locating everything.”
“Crawford Corp knew about this audit months ago. They would’ve prepared everything before our arrival.” I pushed my chair back and removed my blue light glasses. “I’ll go find him and see what’s taking so long.”
Walking down the hallway, I didn’t see Luke standing in front of the cubicles, nor was he at the front desk. I walked toward the row of offices to check if he was inside one of them. Colton sat at his desk in the largest office at the far end but no sign of Luke.
Then I heard something.
A soft humming, followed by the low baritone of a man singing a song I didn’t recognize but the melody sounded familiar. When I turned the corner, I found Luke in front of some portable burner with a black spatula in his hand and his tie flung over his shoulder. The muscles in his upper back bunched when he flipped something in the skillet and my eyes locked on his bare forearms. He must have rolled up his sleeves before he started cooking. My stomach tightened and I felt sick at my involuntary reaction.
I cleared my throat.
He turned around and his big smile quickly dropped into a frown. “Oh, it’s you,” he said and turned back to his skillet.
“What are you doing?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“What does it look like I’m doing, Ms. Sweeney?”
“It looks like you’re not doing your job.” I crossed my arms, annoyed that twenty-eight-year-old Luke was no different from the seventeen-year-old boy I remembered. He took nothing seriously. Why should he? He was rich, good-looking, and everyone liked him. He never had to work for anything, including this job. “Why are you even here if you’re not helping us?”
“Do you prefer your omelet runny or firm?” he asked as he tossed a pinch of salt into the pan.
“I don’t like omelets. I prefer my eggs scrambled,” I answered without thinking. I shook my head. “Luke, why are you here?”
He turned off the burner and grabbed a plate. “I’m here because you, Ms. Sweeney, will help me prove something to Colton.”
The salty scent of the eggs reached me and I hated how much I wanted to taste them. “What’s that? That you’re terrible at this job?” I snapped.
His eyes shot up to mine and he smiled.
Seriously! Is that why he’s in the kitchen instead of helping us with the files?
Luke Crawford hadn’t changed one bit.
“Look, I know this job means little to you, but I take my responsibilities seriously.”
“You always took everything too seriously,” he said nonchalantly.
If I could scream at him with my eyes, I would. I would tell him what an arrogant jerk he was, but I had to keep my cool in the office. “I need those financials on my desk in ten minutes. Is that clear, Mr. Crawford?”
“Crystal,” he said, and his grin reached his eyes.
