Page 41 of Merry Little Hate Notes

Obviously, my subconscious wanted us together. Every time I was around him, my mouth wanted to blurt out the truth. I’d even shown him my crazy chart-loving side. Oddly, it didn’t scare him off. But last night my brain was in chart mode while I tried to sleep. It would be lovely if my mind would count sheep instead of worst-case scenarios. Maybe someday. Anyway, last night’s charts indicated there was a good chance of me believing in magic again if I let Brandon change my mind about him. And that could lead to more soul crushing if things didn’t work out. The charts also highlighted the possibility Brandon was really just a talented actor and his TED Talk was just another lie. Charts could be tricky like that. However, I had a feeling the TED Talk was sincere, and that scared me. See chart 218 about the horrific side of magic.

Braving that possibility, I snatched the note and read it silently.Baby, you’re cold inside.I smiled to myself. He was such a dork. I placed the note in my bag before logging into my laptop. I was waiting for an email from Blake to see if she wished to move forward and send the contract through the proper legal channels.

While I lamented that Blake hadn’t responded, Brandon appeared, looking as handsome as ever dressed in dark dress slacks and acharcoal button-down that showed off his tapered waist. The shape of his body gave me the good shivers.

“Good morning,” his deep, rumbly voice tickled my ears.

“Good morning. How was your call?” I really needed some of these accounts to close. Carmen was sending me apartment listings every hour on the hour. Oh, I had charts about that too. They mostly included my dad having a relapse and me never forgiving yours truly. Mentally, I exhausted myself.

Brandon crossed the gap between his desk and mine, landing close enough I could see the flecks of gold in his deep-brown eyes. I did my best not to get lost in them—they were magically delicious.

“It went well,” he informed me. “Cash would like to meet for lunch next week. I think he’s ready to sign, and I want you to come with me.”

Cash was the CEO of Reliable Systems, a large manufacturing company in town. I didn’t think he cared who handled his company’s account as long as they were knowledgeable and aboveboard. This wasn’t an Artemis situation. “Why do you need me to come?”

“Because you’re a natural at this. You’re too good to stay stuck in your BDR position.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a BDR,” I said, half-offended. Not that I hadn’t had this thought a thousand times, but he didn’t need to remind me.

“I never said there was, but this job can’t satisfy you. I saw the way you handled yourself with Blake—it was masterful. You’re too smart and clever to remain stagnant in a dead-end job. At the very least, you should accept a promotion here. But really, you should be in a courtroom somewhere prosecuting criminals ... or stuffed animals,” he teased.

Except it was no laughing matter to me. He’d struck a sensitive nerve. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I grabbed my laptop and, like I always did, ran from the truth—if you count running to one of the telephone-booth rooms we used to make client calls. They were essentially glorified closets used to keep client information private. Normally, I would have run to the bathroom, but I needed to be alone with my thoughts.

Dang Brandon—he had no idea what I’d been through. I had good reasons for not living out my dream. Maybe if he’d stuck around and not lied to me about how he felt, I could have shared the truth with him. Because did I ever need to let that poison out of my system. And I had a feeling that if Brandon had given me the opportunity to tell him, I would have. He might even have helped me work through the ugly secret I’d been keeping inside, hoping my father never found out. I feared it would completely destroy him. Or maybe it would obliterate me to say it out loud. There was something about keeping it to myself that allowed me a tiny shred of denial. Except my mother’s absence was a stark reminder it was true—so true that apparently neither she nor I wished to face it. Or each other.

Not that I’d had any emotional reserves left to face it or her. At least not on my own. Keeping my dad alive and dealing with Christian’sdeath was all I could handle. It had left little room for dealing with my mother’s betrayal and my unfulfilled dreams.

As soon as I was in the booth, I set my laptop on the short countertop before leaning against the wall, trying to catch my breath. I was usually much better at keeping my emotions contained at work. I blamed Brandon and his wingman—they were doing things to me, making me remember and connecting me to my past. It had me thinking about a different future—the future I’d always wanted but never thought I’d have.

Without warning, Brandon opened the door and slid in. The tiny room was made to accommodate only one person, so his presence made it feel awfully cozy and warm. More like heated.

“You can’t be in here,” I complained. “It’s going to look like we’re being untoward.” What would it do to my reputation if my coworkers thought I was seeing a Katherine Heigl fan? Of course, the only reason people knew he loved the actress was because of me.

“Untoward?” Brandon laughed. “Why would people think that?”

Oh crap. Seriously, why couldn’t I just keep my mouth closed around him? I squeezed my eyes shut like that would help. “Because women are talking in the bathroom about how they think we like each other.” See, I couldn’t even keep that to myself. What kind of strange magic did this man possess over me?

“I do like you, Holly.”

I opened my eyes to find Brandon had inched closer, which meant we were about as close as we could get. So close, I could feel his breath on my cheek, making me weak in the knees. A desire to grip his shirt and pull him flush against my body came over me, but I resisted the urge.

If anyone peeked in through the short, narrow window in the door, they would definitely think all sorts of untoward things were going on here. It was a good thing the owner of the company would be happy to find us in this compromising situation.

“Brandon, what are you doing?” I breathed out. I should have told him to take a hike, but I wasn’t thinking straight. His warm cedar scent and that stubble painted on his taut jawline were scrambling my brain.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted. “I keep saying the wrong things to you and screwing up. It’s not my intention.”

“What is your intention?” I asked, like I didn’t already know. But I wasn’t sure when was the right time to tell someone you’d heard their TED Talk.

“I want to prove to you I’m not your enemy, but your best friend. Maybe even be your hero if you need one, though it’s you who has obviously been the hero all these years. Mostly, I want you to know I’ve cut the string to the yo-yo.”

For someone who thought he kept saying all the wrong things, he’d just nailed that response. “Brandon, I don’t know if this is a good idea.” I already had a best friend. Not that you couldn’t have more than one, and it wouldn’t be awful to have a best friend who knew how to administer foot-popping kisses. Man, did I miss a good kiss. On the other hand, he was admittedly an idiot. Did I want an idiot best friend?

“I understand why you feel that way, but I have to believe there’s a reason you always say too much to me. And you hugged me yesterday when you thought we were going to win the cookie-decorating contest. Not to mention your eyes light up when you see me.”

They did? Of course they did. My darn eyes—the traitors. And did that hug ever feel good yesterday. Something about being in Brandon’s arms made me feel safe.

“There’s been something between us since the day we met when you were eight years old and you told me I was gross like raisin bran.”

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