CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Peyton
Simon’s ability to switch topics had been Oscar worthy, but I wasn’t able to recover easily from either his touch or his proclamation we’d drive to New York. Thankfully, Megan appeared a bit stunned, as well, by her first glimpse at him, judging from the priceless look on her face. Her eyes went as big as saucers while her mouth hung wide.
As soon as he left, she shut the door and lowered herself into my visitor’s chair, fanning herself with her hand. “Holy. Fucking. Shit. I sincerely regret the day our forefathers chose to throw a tea party and secede from Britain because that guy is hot, and we would’ve done well to keep such men here.”
I blew out a breath, thankful she hadn’t noticed how flushed my cheeks were or how off kilter I was. I could only respond with, “Yep.”
I took my seat, trying to collect myself.
“‘Yep’ is all you have to say for the finest looking man known to, well—man?”
“He has made the audit interesting for sure. He’s not always easy to work with.” That was an understatement, considering Simon’s work persona versus his personal one. And then sometimes they collided like they had sixty seconds ago. I experienced whiplash.
“Who the fuck cares? So he’s the get-naked, shhh-baby-don’t-talk, you’ll-ruin-for-me kind of guy.”
Laughter bubbled up at her description. Although I was tempted to confide in my best friend at work about Simon, what would I say? If ever there was an example of ‘it’s complicated,’ this would be it. However, I knew she expected me to contribute to the conversation about a hot guy in the office, so I said, “That would be a shame, considering his accent.”
She grinned. “True. So, other than needing to revise my list of free-pass men my husband would allow, what else should I be doing this afternoon?”
I shook my head, knowing she and her husband adored one another and that the “list” talk was all a joke. At least she was bringing me back to normal.
“First, your lists are reserved for celebrities. And second, I think I’m done with the audit stuff. I appreciate you covering the day to day this last week and getting me those reports.” I didn’t know what I would’ve done without her.
“I think we could make an exception in order to fit him on my list. But the audit being over is good news. You still have your interview for CFO at the end of the week, right?”
As I looked at my friend’s face and watched one of her hands smooth over her baby bump, I knew there was no way I could let her down. Especially when Simon had found a work around. At this point, if I said no to the drive and interview, I’d be disappointing them both.
“Yes. It may be off-site. I’ll take Thursday off and interview on Friday.”
“Considering all the hours you’ve been putting in, that would be good. Get yourself prepped.” Her voice went down to a whisper. “When do you think the news will hit?”
“I don’t know.” Not that I could tell her if I did. Considering the interviews for CFO were being scheduled, however, it sounded as if the sale was imminent. This meant that if I didn’t get the promotion, come next week everything would be uncertain.
“Here’s hoping I don’t have to quit because they promote the asshole, Jeff.”
That made two of us.
***
Who the hell showed up at four o’clock in the morning for a twenty-four-hour drive in a suit?
Simon.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. Before leaving yesterday, I’d texted him my agreement, and he’d responded with a “you’re making the right decision.” Not a smiley emoji or a ‘good.’ He was so formal whereas I now wore yoga pants and a hoodie. All of my nice clothes were in a garment bag, and a small suitcase held everything else. I also had brought my pillow and a cozy throw.
At least he didn’t have a tie on. I wondered if he even owned a pair of jeans. Still, it didn’t detract from the way I reacted when I laid eyes on him. I got butterflies. Despite it being zero-dark-thirty. He was an enigma from the norm, and I was about to embark on the next twenty-four hours with him. I was both excited and nervous as to what we were doing with this. With us. With the interviews.
Back to the ‘it’s complicated.’
He merely smiled, putting my blanket and pillow in the car for me. It was Thursday morning. Even with stops, we hoped to make New York by rush hour on Friday morning. My interview was set for three o’clock, hopefully giving me a chance to get a power nap in. However, if last night’s insomniac night full of nerves was any indication, I probably wouldn’t get much sleep.
I introduced myself to the driver, whose name was Ralph, thanked him profusely, and took one last look at my house. At least Cooper’s sad face wasn’t in the window. In that case, I’d probably be a mess. My brother-in-law had picked him up last night, and I knew he was in good hands.
But I remained irrationally emotional. I hadn’t left the state in fifteen years, so this was a much bigger deal than anyone else would suppose.
“You ready?” Simon let me slide into the spacious black town car before he got in afterward.