“We really need to talk about the gala.”
“I thought Ms. Aarts told you to leave work early.”
Cherish twitched. She wasn’t very good at leaving work at work. Haylee couldn’t be blind to that. The number of times Cherish had to call Haylee late for something she needed should have made it obvious, right?
Haylee’s lips pulled up to the side. “You look like you’re about to walk into your annual appointment. Relax, Cherish, we can talk about work if you want. Not quite sure what else we’d talk about anyway.”
Narrowing her gaze, Cherish shook her head. Haylee was right. They didn’t exactly know much about each other. In the time they’d worked together, Cherish had kept everything strictly professional. She barely even asked Haylee how her weekends were because she didn’t want to delve into stories of Haylee’s escapades.
“You’re right.” Cherish blinked and frowned. “We don’t really know each other, do we?”
“Not at all. I mean. I know you like Zena Donuts.”
Should Cherish break the spell and tell Haylee those were for Febe? She opted to keep her mouth shut on that one. It would do her well to let Haylee think she had one up on Cherish at least.
“I know that you’re slightly OCD.”
“What?” Cherish frowned, nodding at the waiter as her wine was set in front of her. “What do you mean?”
“You literally have a spot for everything on your desk, and if it’s out of order, it takes you all of two point three seconds to notice and put it back.”
Cherish furrowed her brow. “Are you the one that keeps moving my sticky notes?”
Haylee’s bright red cheeks were a dead giveaway.
Laughing, Cherish shook her head. “My mother always taught me that a clean space made for a good work environment.”
“Did you always have your room cleaned to perfection, too?”
Cherish gave a one shoulder shrug in response. Haylee didn’t need words to confirm that one. “I grew up in a very strict household. It wouldn’t surprise me if you grew up in the opposite.”
“Dead opposite. My brother, Jackson, and I ran amok around our house.”
“Doesn’t surprise me.” Cherish sipped her wine. It was such a good flavor and helped ease a bit more of the tension in her shoulders. “Do you only have one brother?”
Haylee nodded. “Yeah. Jackon’s three years older than me.”
Cherish hummed. “My brother is four years older than me. We have a sister in between us, but I don’t talk to her much. My brother was my hero growing up.”
“Mine too.” Haylee raised her own wine glass toward Cherish in a toast. “Seems we do have more in common than we thought.”
“Yes, it does.” Giving into impulse, Cherish leaned forward and chinked their glasses together. “But about the gala…”
Haylee groaned. “Should have known better than to try and get you off your one-track mind.” She giggled, her cheeks having a pleasant flush to them. “So what about the gala?”
“Ms. Ilic implied that Ms. Aarts can present whenever she wants, but there is the matter that they’re giving her an award this year.”
“An award?” Haylee looked doubtful.
Cherish hummed. “She’s their founder, and while she has very little to do with the day-to-day operations, her donation last year allowed them to flourish since the last gala.”
“I suppose,” Haylee mumbled. “Does she have to give a speech when she gets the award?”
“Most likely.” Cherish set her wine glass down. “Ms. Aarts doesn’t like public speaking.”
“Most people don’t.” Haylee bit her lip. “It can be short, though, can’t it?”
“Yes. But we will need to tag team her up onto the stage and off it. She isn’t to be unsupervised at any point.” Cherish played with her fork and spoon, the metal cool against her fingers. Why was she talking about this now? They’d come out for a dinner together, not to carry on with more work when they’d expressly been given the time off.