Page 21 of Take It Offline

A shadow appears over my screen. “Oh, good. Roberts is locked out of the procedure and needs a copy, and here I was, worried you were in a bad mood.”

Right, yes, of course. Why stick me in hell without the devil being present?

No matter how badly I need a break from this man, every time I turn around, there Charlie is. If I send files to the printer on the other side of the floor, he still finds me. I can’t escape him.

I clear the cache and try again.Failed.A scream dies in my throat.

This laptop and I officially have beef.

“There is a fire that will burn until eternity circles around on itself,” I mutter, ignoring Charlie. This computer will not be the end of me.

“And it will be fueled,” I whisper, “by my never-ending hatred for you.”

This morning, this white pantsuit made me feel powerful, but here I am, only a few hours later, being bested by a microchip.

I will not destroy company property. Not after what happened with the teleconference screen last year.

“That’s an impressive speech. Do I say amen now or wait for the choir?” Without asking, Charlie plants himself on my desk.

In protest, I don’t let myself notice how tightly stretched his pants are at the thighs.

I definitely notice.

I’ll say one thing—he makes Tom Ford look good. Broad lines, sharp angles… all perfectly contrasting that pout. Charlie is a lesson in distraction.

But I will not be moved.

“Go away, Charlie.”

“I’d love to do that, sweetheart,” he says, grasping the edge of the desk on either side of his obscenely muscular thighs. “But boss’s orders are to find out what’s holding up the review draft. So why don’t you hand it over, and I’ll put you out of your misery?”

To do that, he’d need something a lot sharper than that wit of his.

“Don’t you think that if I could, I would have already? Why do you think I’m yelling at this piece of useless, incompetent, broken?—”

In one quick move, Charlie straightens and spins me away from the keyboard, his touch making my pulse jump. “Whoa,whoa, whoa. Let’s take a breath. Come on, in and out, just follow me.”

The heat of his hands radiates through my linen shirt.Spark, meet flame.This close, the deep, intoxicating smell of his cologne is unavoidable. It’s nice. Like stepping under a waterfall or digging my toes into cool sand.

“That’s better,” he says.

It’s only when I come back to myself that I realize he’s rubbing circles on the inside of my wrist. It’s incredibly soothing.

As I blink up at him, he clears his throat and quickly drops my hand.

“Thank you,” I say softly, lightness fluttering in my belly. Maybe he can be helpful.Occasionally.

“There’s morning tea for everyone in the kitchen. I figured you’d be too busy overthinking, so I brought you a bit of everything.”

I blink again and zero in on a plate filled with an assortment of treats. Another of Charlie’s skills is apparently sniffing out free food.

“Are you secretly a beagle? Or did Amy tip you off again?”

“First thing I learned growing up was if you wanna eat, you gotta get in quick. The second thing I learned,” he says, sliding the plate closer, “is to never turn down good pie.”

The golden flaky crust is practically calling my name. My stomach rumbles. “And this is good, is it?”

“Top five.” He grins around his own mouthful. “The best is PJ’s on fifth. Their pecan will make you question things.”

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