TO: JP Cane
FROM: Kelsey Gardner
SUBJECT: RE: Declined Invite Request
Dear Mr. Cane,
Your request has been denied four times because I fail to see how staring at each other can offer any productivity or progress to Cane Enterprises. If you can provide me with a detailed list as to how it might benefit the company, I’d be apt to reconsider.
Thank you,
Kelsey
TO: Kelsey Gardner FROM: JP Cane
SUBJECT: RE: Declined Invite Request
Dear Miss Gardner,
I appreciate your loyalty to the company and wanting to further the success of our multi-billion-dollar enterprise. As to the benefit a one-hour staring contest could provide the company, I’d like to bring to your attention the following chart below. Please email if you have any questions.
Staring -> forced proximity -> makes boss happy.
Thank you,
JP
TO: JP Cane
FROM: Kelsey Gardner
SUBJECT: RE: Declined Invite Request
Dear Mr. Cane,
I’m flattered by your response, but I must remind you, your request is purely personal, and as I once was told, men and women can’t be friends in the workplace, because of the obvious attraction. I’m afraid your request borders on inappropriate behavior, something I don’t partake in. Unfortunately, your request has been once again denied.
Thank you,
Kelsey
TO: Kelsey Gardner FROM: JP Cane
SUBJECT: RE: Declined Invite Request
Dear Miss Gardner,
Your dedication to maintaining as a superior role model should be applauded. Perhaps we should offer you a raise . . . or possibly, you can give me a raise . . .
（Wiggles eyebrows）
Yours,
Jonah
I squeeze my eyes shut and inwardly squeal from seeing his name at the bottom of his email. His name that he seems to only use with me. I’m reminded of the time I found out what his real name was, after one of our outings in San Francisco. He was walking away from my room, a smirk on his handsome face as he told me. I remember the exact feeling that washed over me at that moment, too, a connection much deeper than surface level, a connection that made me feel as if I was a special part of his life.
That feeling has been resurrected. Every email response is spreading warmth through my veins, and my feelings of embarrassment are slowly slipping away into nothing.
TO: JP Cane
FROM: Kelsey Gardner
SUBJECT: RE: Declined Invite Request
Dear Mr. Cane,
You couldn’t possibly be alluding to an erection, could you? I can’t fathom you are, being how inappropriate that would be. I suggest you consider very carefully your next response.
Yours,
Kelsey
My stomach somersaults as I press send. It’s the first time since the wedding that I’ve shown any inkling that I still have feelings for him, that I’m hoping he’s still waiting for me.
It’s been a difficult two weeks, attempting to sort through my feelings, missing JP, and trying to remember who the hell I am. Trying to see my worth. Attempting to convince myself that I’m beautiful, I’m wanted, I’m needed. And JP, in his small way, has helped that progress.
Knock. Knock.
I glance up to see JP once again standing in my doorway, sans his suit coat. My eyes fall to his button-up shirt and how it stretches across his firm chest. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and he’s wearing that classic smirk of his, the smirk that has been stuck in my dreams for the last few nights.
Sitting tall, I ask, “Can I help you, Mr. Cane?”
He rubs his hands together. “You can. I was hoping to discuss some business with you.”
“Would you like to take a seat?”
He shakes his head. “No, this would be better discussed over dinner.”
My brow raises. “Is this a business dinner?”
“Yes.”
I don’t believe him, but I go with it anyway. “Okay, shall I pencil you in for next week?”
“Tonight. My place. Seven o’clock.”
“I’m afraid I’m not comfortable with attending a business meeting at your place of residence.”
“I understand your concern, but I can assure you, no one will be there, so there’s no need to be uncomfortable, Miss Gardner. You can just be yourself.” He stands tall. “See you tonight.”
Without waiting for a response, he walks away.
Unsure of what to do, I pick up my phone and text Lottie.
Kelsey: Oh God, he asked me to dinner, at his place. He’s expecting me there. What do I do?
Thankfully, she answers. Huxley is going to murder me when he gets home, I can feel it.
Lottie: What do you mean, what do you do? You go!