揌e gives them money, too??
揕ooks like it,?Eliza whispers.
He puts his hand in front of his face like he抯 keeping the sun out of his eyes and surveys the line of trees at the back of the park. When he turns our way, I duck down, even though I think桰 hope梬e抮e too far away to see.
揙h, crap. What抯 he doing??I whisper.
揘ot sure,?she says.
But the second he starts toward us, panic.
揇id he see us? Eliza? There抯 no reason for him to come this way…？
揑 don抰 think so.?
揧eah, well, I抳e seen enough. Time for that bike ride!?I run back a few paces to grab my bike, hop on, and pedal as fast as I can through the trees to get the hell out of here.
I抦 not even sure where I抦 going. I just need to stay out of sight, to avoid being caught by Burns after I eavesdropped on such an intimate moment.
I barely remember to look back to see Eliza behind me, straining to catch up.
Monday morning, I drag myself out of bed and get dressed.
I抦 about to bike to Sweeter Grind when I remember that抯 not my job this week.
I can go straight to the office today, get to work, and梕njoy a visit to the principal抯 office, apparently. One look at my phone has me frowning. It抯 barely the buttcrack of dawn and Lincoln Burns is already in my texts, scolding me.
Come straight to my office when you arrive, he says. I have your breakfast. We need to talk.
Awesome.
What now? I send back, my fingers punching the screen.
Lincoln: We抣l talk when you get here.
Awesome again, staying mired in suspense.
Twenty minutes later, I get to the office as fast as my body can move those wheels. Anger is a hell of a workout.
Burns leans against his office door, filling the space like an annoyed bear protecting its den.
揘evermore,?he says coldly. 揃reakfast inside.?
揟hank you.?I give him the world抯 fakest smile.
I walk into his office, brushing his massive chest as I slide past and hold in a sigh.
No bad case of the Mondays ever felt so dire.
He closes the door behind us and moves to his desk with a single word.
揝it.?
揧our wish is my command,?I say flippantly, flopping down in the chair across from him. 揥hat抯 wrong now? You said my work was stellar.?
He slides my coffee and cinnamon roll across the table like some grizzled cop in the movies giving the hotshot rookie his badge.
揧our work is unimpeachable. That抯 not why we抮e here,?he tells me, pushing his massive hands against the desk.
He抯 good at this whole intimidation act, I抣l give him that. Too bad for him that抯 never really worked on me.
揥hy are you so pissed then??I ask.
揚issed? Is that what you think??
揈r桰抦 not sure what we抮e talking about,?I throw out, taking a huge bite of cinnamon roll heaven. Mostly so I have a reason to not look at him.
He opens his desk, pulls out a napkin, and slides it over.
揧ou have frosting on your mouth.?
While swallowing, I take the napkin cautiously and wipe my face, trying to decipher that look in his eyes. God, what is his deal today?
Is this about the park?
His nostrils flare as he draws in a deep breath and says, 揊or someone who doesn抰 like people rummaging around in her personal life, you have no issue digging in mine. How interesting.?
Boom. Hammer, meet head.
The way he calls it interesting certainly feels like a cranial blow.
…so he might be a tad better at the whole intimidation schtick than I gave him credit for.
揢mm梱ou mean because I called you close to midnight on Friday??I try, praying that抯 it. 揕ook, bossman, I抦 sorry. I thought it was fine because we just talked.?
揇o I hire dumbasses, Nevermore??he grinds out.
I抦 taken aback by the question and sit up straighter, mostly so I don抰 rock back in my seat.
揢m, no??I blink. 揑抦 not sure what you抮e getting at…？
Is this some weird backhanded insult? Is he calling me a dumbass?
揧ou know what I抦 talking about. And because you抮e not a dumbass, that means you抮e a terrible liar,?he growls.
Holy hell.
I scratch my chin, averting my eyes before I meet the steel trap of his gaze again.
揗r. Burns, I have no fricking clue what you mean. But let抯 say I did梬hich I don抰梑ut if I did, we抎 be even because you dug first…wouldn抰 we??
揘o, ma抋m. We are so far from even you couldn抰 get there by jet.?He lifts one big hand and places it in the other, loudly cracking his knuckles.
揅an you just tell me what you think I did??I sputter. 揑 just…I don抰 like games. Spit it out.?
揝talking the boss is a serious offense.?
My heart skips. I hate how my blush betrays me more than words ever could.
揥hat? Because of my Google-fu??An exaggerated laugh falls out of me. 揗aybe don抰 wind up on the internet and I won抰 read about you??
I know I抦 playing with fire. But I抦 going to make him say it.
If he saw me, I want to hear it from his lips.
揌ow about you and Tweedle Dum following me to the park on your day off? Ring a bell??His voice is a quiet storm.
Yeah, I抦 so not ready.
His look cuts me in two, so hot and glaring it抯 like he抯 stripping me naked right here in this office.
揟he park…what makes you think it was me??
揧ou抮e whispering, for one, and that isn抰 something you do,?he says, stabbing up a finger midair. 揟wo, you don抰 think the blond ponytail gave it away? I抎 know that hair anywhere, Nevermore. Do not bullshit me.?
揥ait, wait, wait,?I mutter, waving my hands frantically. 揟hat抯 your evidence? A blond chick in a city of almost a million people happens to be at the park with you, so it must be me? And that must mean I抦 stalking you? I抦 in awe. I never thought I抎 meet Sherlock Holmes.?
He isn抰 impressed.
Neither am I, honestly.
The bosshole leans forward and stares into my eyes.
揝weetheart, it抯 not just the hair. Although it抯 a perfect platinum-gold shade I haven抰 seen too often棓
揝o, you like my hair??I stare at him.
He rolls his eyes.
揘ot the point. You抮e the only woman who wears a black dress with silver corded straps while biking. Were you going for a joyride or out to a cocktail party??
揑f it were me梐nd I haven抰 said it was梑ut if it were, the options are joyride or the library. Keep it straight.?
His gaze only deepens until it抯 bone-deep.
揘evermore, I抦 not a betting man. However, if I were, I抎 bet every dollar I own that only you have a raven inked across your shoulder,?he says.
Ouch.
Busted.
He knew, and he抯 toying with me now.
I touch my shoulder, making sure my sleeveless dress is thick enough to cover the tattoo. It is. I抳e never shown it off at work.
He smiles.
揑t抯 a nice accent on a well-toned body on a sunny day. Between you and me, it was damn hard to look away from,?he rumbles, his eyes flipping drilling me now.
Heat pumps under my face.
So he抯 noticed梐nd likes梞y 抴ell-toned?body.
Eep.
I put a hand on the desk to stop my knees from shaking.
?so maybe it was me. And what if it was? Am I fired??
He hesitates for a horrible second.
揗aybe.?
What? I bolt up in my seat.
揑 thought we agreed to ninety days! And we weren抰 following you. I swear. That抯 not fair, Burns.?
揘either is spying on your boss. Unless you抮e telling me you always hang around homeless sites for fun??
Prick. I doubt he抯 serious about the firing threat. He just wants to see me squirm.