Page 87 of Fire in You

“If your father likes the way they’re turning out, he’ll keep them on up there,” Brock explained. “If not, they’ll be sent back down here for more training.”

I nodded as we rounded the line of desks. Several staff members were waiting outside the door and were chatting. I felt Brock’s hand on my elbow. I glanced up at him questioningly and his thick lashes lifted, shooting a pointed look in Paul’s direction. The other man was staring down at me, and I realized he must’ve spoken.

“I’m sorry,” I said politely, surprised I hadn’t heard him direct anything to me since when he spoke to Brock I could hear him. Had he lowered his voice?No, I told myself. I wasn’t even sure he knew I had hearing problems, and if he had, that would be a micro-dick move. “I didn’t hear you.”

Paul’s expression was stoic as he repeated, “Do you have the new membership reports?”

I frowned slightly, wondering why he was asking for that. “Yes. Is there a reason you need to see them?”

Brock had stepped ahead, already entering the conference room, and Paul stopped as the rest of the staff followed him in. “Do I need a reason to see them?”

I started to point out that I was well within my authority to question whatever the hell I wanted, but the statement died on the tip of my tongue. I took a deep breath. “I just don’t understand why you would need to see them as that is not your department.”

“Actually, it sort of is.” Paul folded his arms as he stared down his long, aquiline nose at me. “Chase Byers, one of the guys who works the front desk, wants to transfer to training, so I need to evaluate his performance and make sure he’s earned the transfer.” He paused, features sharp. “I’m pretty sure Brock mentioned this to you?”

I opened my mouth as I glanced into the room. I was pretty sure he hadn’t.

“Jillian,” he said, touching my arm. “Did you hear me?”

My gaze swung back to his. Okay. There was no way he’d just spoken or I was totally losing my mind. “What?”

“Do you have his report?” he asked.

Hating that I could feel my cheeks burning, I looked down at the reports I held and thumbed through them until I found Chase’s weekly activity sheet. I pulled it out and handed it to him. “Sorry. Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Paul said, but sure as hell didn’t sound like he meant it.

“No problem,” I responded, irritated more with myself than him. I was his manager, and yet I was the one apologizing?What the hell?

Paul didn’t respond as he walked into the meeting. I didn’t get this guy and the problem he had with me. Frowning, I looked up and met Brock’s stare. His brows were raised. He was waiting for me and I was just out here standing around, staring at the floor.

Lovely.

Sighing, I shoved Paul’s attitude aside and walked into the conference room, closing the door behind me as I told myself that next time I was going to put Paul in his place.

* * *

Tuesday afternoon, close to three, my office phone dinged, signaling an internal call. I glanced over and saw the GM button was lit up. A smile tugged at my lips as I picked it up.

“Yes?”

“Need to see you,” Brock said through the phone and then promptly hung up.

I shivered at the sharp bite of desire. Telling myself to chill and that his need to see me surely was work-related, I locked my computer as I toed my heels back on and then rose. Standing, I smoothed the skirt of the beige dress I’d found in the back of my closet.

I really needed to go shopping for clothes.

Brock had stayed late at the Academy last night, so I hadn’t seen him after I left work and before I returned this morning. He had texted last night, telling—not asking—me to have nice dreams of him.

It was so corny that I’d laughed out loud when I saw it.

The text, the kiss yesterday he stole while he came in my office before I left, the entire weekend and all that he’d done—none of it felt real. Which was why, when I chatted with Abby last night and made plans to see her when I was home, I hadn’t mentioned what was happening with him. Maybe by then I could.

The floor was mostly quiet as I walked the short distance to Brock’s office. At this time of day, most of the staff were either on the gym floor or on the second level, but since the offices had closed tonight for a long five-day weekend, I was sure some had already snuck out. Tucking my hair back behind my right ear, I slipped into his office.

“Close the door behind you,” he ordered when I stepped in.

Stomach flipping all over the place, I did as he demanded. “What’s up?”

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