Page 33 of The Relationship Clause

No matter the reason, this means the outlook for making this position permanent might not be as favorable as I would have hoped.

And maybe that’s a good thing. Do I really want to work with Mr. Grumpus Grumpypants all day every day?

No, I definitely don’t. But my resume… I guess I could always go back to Pete’s. Though, as much as I love Pete, that thought is depressing. It’s another step backward.

One thing’s for sure, Kiera was right. Working with Owen is beginning to make him far less attractive. Not on the outside. On the outside, he could still fan my flames any day. His grumpiness is another matter altogether.

By the time I make it to my desk, I’m out of breath and finishing up my second chocolate croissant.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman run in heels quite as gracefully as you do, Junie.”

I whirl around, thinking for half a second that it might be Mr. Ferguson, but it isn’t. It’s Shane. Which makes way more sense, because why would Mr. Ferguson ever flirt with me?

Although I’m pretty sure I caught him smelling my hair the other day…

Nope. I’m not dwelling on that. Mr. Ferguson isn’t interested, and that’s the way it should be. The last thing he needs is to fall for someone who’s going to run away from him eventually.

“What are you doing up here?” I ask him, bringing up Mr. Ferguson’s schedule on my phone. “Do we have a meeting today, or do you need to schedule something?”

“No.” He pushes off the wall and rests against my desk instead. I have to move Mr. Ferguson’s coffee and croissant over so he doesn’t bump into them. “I wanted to see how you were doing. It’s been all work, no play, and we haven’t had a chance to catch up.”

“Oh…” Goodness gracious, great balls of fire.

Here’s the thing about Shane. He’s a great guy. I honestly wouldn’t mind catching up if it were going to be just that. But if there’s one thing I found out during our brief time together, it’s that I can’t fix the issues this guy has going on. And that’s saying something, considering the fact that I have plenty of my own.

“Catching up would be fun, but I’ve got a busy day ahead of me.”

“That’s fine. It doesn’t have to be today.”

“Okay…”

“Hey, do you remember that time when we went to that haunted house together?”

An unbidden smile comes to my face. “Yes.”

“You didn’t want to go.”

“But you got me inside anyway.”

“I was quite charming back then.”

“Yeah, what happened?”

He shakes his head and smiles, ignoring my little jab. “I thought I was going to have to carry you out of there at one point, you were so scared.”

“Hey, I wasn’t the one who tried to use my date as a human shield!”

He laughs and places a hand on my shoulder. “I almost forgot about that.”

“I didn’t. Chivalry died that day.”

We’re both laughing now, giggling and trying to shush each other like we’re children as we continue to reminisce.

A throat clears, and I jump and whirl around. Mr. Ferguson is glaring at us. It’s a common, and might I add, somehow still hot, look on him, and it is exactly the opposite of what I should be focusing on.

I’ll never be hired permanently at this rate…

“It is 8:03.” His voice even has a dangerous sort of growl to it. “Is there a reason you two are out here flirting instead of working?”

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