But since I抦 working two full-time jobs, his permission really doesn抰 matter unless someone else wants to manage Lucy抯 inbox, follow up on the contracts, do the filing, or approve a new round of Facebooger ad copy for a wedding line that抯 only going to be moderately successful because we don抰 embark on marketing techniques from the asylum like sham engagements.
Argh.
Stop me from screaming.
He抯 right about one thing, though. That meeting was beyond mortifying when weddings mesh with my life like an acid bath.
…so, filing it is. Then I抣l follow up on the contracts and hope the copy is passable enough to give it a quick thumbs-up.
Actually, since I have the CEO抯 permission, copy can wait until tomorrow. I may need to hunt down Eliza, if she抯 back from her trip to make me a stiff espresso shot or five before I can dredge up the nerve to deal with tomorrow.
I spend an hour rifling around in the files, and when I come back, I start following up on contracts I haven抰 received signed copies of and forwarding Lincoln proposals to review.
He passes my desk on the way to his office and pauses. 揧ou抮e still here??
揢mm梐s kind as it was for you to offer me the afternoon off, I can抰 keep up with both Lucy抯 job and my own and take time off to play post lady.?
揂fter that meeting, I抦 surprised you care.?His eyes narrow in the usual scary-hot way.
揥hat can I say? Your money抯 good. It keeps me from exploring the dark corners of my mind in lyrical form and accidentally dropping it in your inbox so you can keep laughing at me after you said you wouldn抰。？
The harshness in his expression fades.
揚oint taken, Miss Poe. I抣l do better.?
I glare at him.
揑 really do need that package picked up,?he says, his voice weirdly gentler. 揕eave whenever you want, but make sure you can grab it and meet me at the address by six thirty.?
揇oes Lucy always pick up your personal packages??
揘o, but she has been known to do me small favors like this when needed. Believe me, I don抰 make this sort of thing a habit. Since you already intruded on this part of my life, you抎 might as well be included.?
Is he talking about梠h, right. The park. The homeless stuff.
I抦 annoyed that my curiosity rises.
揅areful, Burns. You抮e starting to rhyme. Next thing I know, you抣l be the one sending me poetry,?I say.
揅areful what you wish for, Nevermore,?he grumbles, trying oh-so-hard not to break into a smile before he turns his back.
揌ey, wait. What did I intrude on? Can you at least tell me??I ask.
He barely pauses to throw a dark look over his shoulder.
揧ou抣l know when you get there.?
Jeez. Who can turn down that sort of mystery?
I fly through the contracts as fast as I can because now I want to find out what this package is. I forward the last proposal to Lincoln and knock on his door.
揑抦 ready, but I抎 rather not take the company car. My bike is here. How big is this package, though??
揟ake the company car,?he insists. 揑抣l drop you back here when we抮e done tonight.?
揥e? So you抮e going to be there, too? Where are we going??
揧ou have the address.?
揥hat are we doing??
I watch his face tighten, his eyes hardening at me for pestering him.
揧ou抣l find out when you get there, Dakota, like I抳e told you repeatedly.?
Dakota.
I don抰 want to acknowledge what hearing my name from that mouth does to me. I抦 tingling.
揧ou抮e not going to tell me anything? Not even a hint??I venture.
揑抳e told you everything you need to know, now scram,?he growls, swiping a hand at me.
I don抰 say anything, but my face must speak for me.
Just when I抦 expecting him to slam the door in my face, he stops and smiles. His eyes soften.
揥hat the hell is it now, Nevermore??
揌as anyone ever told you that you抮e a horse抯 dick??
揧ou, on the day I met you. And I抣l take that as a compliment considering their size. We have a lot in common.?
Oh my God.
No.
Just.
It takes effort to make my tongue work. It feels frozen by all the awful thoughts conjured up by my boss?hint that he抯 packing below the belt.
揙kay, just…making sure you know,?I say quietly.
How lame.
揑 knew there was a reason I keep you around, so I can stay well-informed about my endowment,?he says.
揌appy to be of service. Okay, it抯 package time then.?I start moving with a blush, hoping he won抰 latch on to that last word.
揝top at Sweeter Grind and get at least three Regis rolls,?he calls after me. 揌ell, get six if they have them.?
I stop moving just long enough to shake my head and look back at him. 揧ou need rehab. There must be a cinnamon addiction program somewhere. I抦 worried it抯 a bona fide health crisis at this point.?
揓ust bring me the damn rolls,?he barks.
I put two fingers to my forehead and salute him.
揥ill do, Captain.?Then I spin around on my heel, ready to leave.
揇akota??Oh. He isn抰 done.
I look back over my shoulder, waiting as he stares at me strangely. Longingly?
揧es??I抳e stopped breathing, counting the seconds.
揑 like your dress today,?he says sincerely.
Holy crap.
I smile before I can help it.
揙h. Well. Thank you.?
I抦 not even sure what to make of that and I don抰 have time to wonder.
Before I drop dead, I race downstairs to the smiling driver who抯 already waiting to open the door for me. I climb inside the jet-black town car without a fuss.
I抦 glad I do, even if it brings me back to that rainy night he took me home. On the inside, it抯 luxe leather, almost limo-like.
揌i,?I say.
The driver turns and nods at me over his spectacles before we抮e moving, looking vaguely surprised. 揌ello. You must be the lovely Miss Poe. Mr. Burns told me I抎 be chauffeuring this afternoon. It抯 a pleasure.?
It抯 not the first time. He抯 an older man, the same driver who took me home that night, though I didn抰 introduce myself then.
揥e抳e met, haven抰 we??I ask.
揅ertainly,?he says with a low laugh. 揟echnically, I抦 supposed to be invisible. Mr. Burns is a busy man with a big company to manage. He doesn抰 make a lot of small talk.?
揟hat抯 sad,?I whisper too loudly.
揈h梚t isn抰 half bad. He pays me better than any other place would in this town. Special delivery, I hear??
揜ight. Do you need the address??I settle into the cushy seat, wondering why I feel so jittery.
揌e sent it to me earlier. No worries, I抣l get you there. I抦 Louis Hughes, by the way. I抳e been with Mr. Burns for a long time.?
That gets my attention.
I offer a muted 揟hanks,?but that抯 not what抯 on my mind.
Does Louis know Lincoln抯 origin story?
Does he have insights into what makes the man tick that most people don抰？
I wonder.
And I wonder a lot of things as the car slices through the cool, dark night.
Like what the hell happened to make Lincoln Burns such a rude enigma wrapped in the grumpy mask he wields like a shield against the entire flipping world.
揂re you sure this is the right place??I ask roughly twenty minutes later.
揧es, ma抋m. This is the address,?Louis says.
揃ut it抯…a medical supply store??
揧es, ma抋m, I do believe you抮e right.?If Louis is as surprised as I am, he doesn抰 show it.
I抦 so confused.
揥hat does Lincoln need here? He抯 like the poster boy of good health.?Or a genuine underwear model.