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Security-man Sam lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. Just started a new daycare and probably planning a coup to take it over.”
They both laugh. “That sounds like your daughter, all right,” Chase says, clapping Sam on the shoulder. He turns to the security guy behind me. “Scott, can you see that Ms. King’s belongings are sent to the conference room?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Moore.” The guy who made my key card, Scott, rounds the desk and takes the bag of bagels from me.
“You don’t have to do that.” I adjust my briefcase shoulder strap.
“It’s no problem, Ms. King.” He walks toward the back of the room, where I see a maintenance elevator.
“You wore it.” Chase’s eyes light up at the sight of my blouse. With the bagel bag out of the way, he has a better view. “I’m glad. I saw it yesterday, and it reminded me of you. I had Susan put it in the care package last minute.”
“Wait. You put that together?” I look down at my new, beloved blouse. “The note led me to believe the package was from the staff of Moore’s.”
“Yes. Though I may own shares, I do have an office here.” A full-blown smile now. “As you know.” A shrug. “Technically, I am staff.”
“Technically, huh?” But I’m smiling too. Only Chase could get me to smile when I should feel tricked. Maybe it’s his voice. His smile. Or the fact that it’s hard to get mad at a man wearing a cat-printed pocket square. But knowing he personally picked out my favorite shirt ever sends shivers down my spine. The good kind.
“‘Return to Sender’? Good song, but don’t even think about it.”
Crap. My cheeks heat, but I smile it out, like I was conscious of my odd habit.
Why do all my weird quirks have to rear up around this man?
Chase checks his watch. “We have some time, why don’t we order coffee at the café for your team before heading upstairs?” He steps back, gesturing me to the doors leading back to the retail floor.
Shaking off my embarrassment, I give him a sly look. “Returning to the scene of the crime, huh?”
He coughs. “Uh, yes. I guess we are.” Once through the doors, he walks beside me. “Although I wouldn’t call it a crime. Much too serendipitous for that.”
“I’ll be sure to use serendipity as my defense if I get arrested for flashing any more nipple today.”
* * *
Chase
I’m getting side-eye from a barista.
It’s the same girl from yesterday. I think she’s hoping for another incident. And as much as I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing Campbell’s nipples again, I’m extra careful with the carrier of coffees as we exit the café.
“Tell me about yourself, Ms. King. We didn’t get to talk much what with the wet T-shirt contest we had and then being interrupting by an irate, portly man.”
One side of her mouth quirks up.
“Why did you decide to start your own business?”
Her mouth flattens. “Same as anyone, I suppose. Be your own boss and all that.”
“True. I’m just surprised no one snapped you up out of grad school.”
Is it the light from the overhead chandeliers or did her eyes just darken?
She glances down, like she’s watching her step, but I’m pretty sure she’s just trying to hide her expression. “What do you mean?”
“You aren’t the only one who does their research. I know more than just what the Forbes article highlighted.” I nod at a cosmetic counter, where two saleswomen are waving enthusiastically. “Graduated top of your class from NYU, with a bachelor’s in business and a master’s in marketing. Scouted right out of college to—”
“Yes. I am aware of my education and résumé, thank you.” She stops at a shoe display featuring the shoes currently on her feet. “This display is great. Very artistic. This should be shot and posted on the store’s social media account.”
“Moore’s doesn’t have social media accounts.”
