Page 15 of Charmed and Alarmed

Holden’s expression is stony as he strides across the room and offers her a brief, perfunctory embrace. “What are you doing here?” he demands, and though I’m only a few feet away from them, he doesn’t acknowledge me at all.

“I was in the area.”

“Come into my office,” he tells her briskly and turns on his heel, walking through the door without a backward glance at either of us.

His mother sighs heavily and follows. The door closes, and the room is plunged, yet again, into near silence. The only other inhabitants are busy at their computers, noise-canceling headphones in place, and apparently oblivious to what just transpired.

If I’d ever stopped to guess Holden Ellinger’s origin story, I would have assumed it included elite boarding schools, sailing lessons, and a massive trust fund. He certainly acts that way. The way he speaks and dresses, the carefree, cocky charisma that must have charmed the panties off way more women than I’d care to imagine… All of it. Even now, I can’t quite reconcile any alternative.

It takes all my self-control to keep my attention on my job and not peek over my shoulder as the minutes pass. People are starting to return from lunch, some of them glancing curiously into the office behind me, but I stare determinately at my computer. When the soft brush of a glass door opening comes to my right, however, I can’t resist any longer.

Looking over, I watch as Holden’s mother steps back into the office, her lips pursed and her eyes rimmed with red. She pauses, shoving her hand into her bag for another piece of gum, and catches my eye with a scowl. “Mind your own business, missy.”

“Don’t speak to her that way.” Holden’s sharp tone sends my heart into my throat as his towering form appears in the doorway, glaring at his mother. “Leave. Before I have security escort you out.”

The woman looks between us with a bitter smile. “Always the same,” she says with a nasty little laugh and sets off again, head held high and handbag swinging from her arm like a wrecking ball. Holden and I watch until she’s gone, and as I turn to look back at him, my mouth opening as I prepare to saysomething, I see the door to his office closing yet again.

He doesn’t reemerge for the rest of the day. Whenever I get up to do something, I can see him at his computer, brow furrowed and fingers flying over the keyboard. He doesn’t look at me, or anyone else for that matter, and the whole thing makes me feel kind of sick.

There is more to my father’s funny, easygoing business partner than meets the eye, and I’m not sure why it bothers me so much that I didn’t see it until now.

I should check on him.

We’re friends, right? Or, at least, friendly? He knows that I saw what happened, so if I didn’t ask, wouldn’t it come off as me not caring?

My fingers pause over the keyboard, my heart beating a touch faster than usual.Do I care?It’s one thing to enjoy the way he looks at me, it’s a whole other for Holden Ellinger to matter to me. He does, though, and I do care.

“See you tomorrow, Leni!” call a few of my new coworkers as they pass, waving on their way to the door.

“Goodnight!” I reply a beat too late. Somewhere in my preoccupation about Holden, the room emptied for the night. Desks are unoccupied, and computers are still and dark. The only sound is the quiet hum of the air conditioner and the distant rumble of traffic out on the street.

Biting my lip, I peek over my shoulder. Holden is where I last saw him, but now, an electronic pencil is in his hand as it moves freely over a huge tablet. Like me, he seems oblivious to the departure of his team, and his lips are pressed into a flat line, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Swallowing back my apprehension, I stand, edging around the back of my desk and over to Holden’s office door. It whispers over the old wood floor as I push it open, causing him to look up, his eyes darting from my face, down my body, then back again. His throat bobs. “Can I help you?”

I move further into the room, closing the door behind me in the off chance somebody comes back. “I just wanted to check on you. You seemed a little rattled after, you know, earlier.”

Slowly, Holden lays the e-pencil down beside his tablet, staring at me. “You wanted to check on me,” he echoes as I stop right in front of his desk.

“Yeah. It didn’t exactly seem like you were expecting her and, well…” I trail off, feeling stupid for thinking this was a good idea. The way he’s looking at me, it’s like I’ve just come in here and told him I want to be an astronaut. “Do you know what? Never mind. I shouldn’t have butted in.”

As I take a step back, Holden shakes his head. “No. It’s fine. I—” He seems to cast around for the correct words. “I don’t have the easiest relationship with my family.”

My hands snake around my middle, holding myself. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He smiles weakly, brushing it aside.

We stare at each other for a long moment as his words sink in. Then, my gaze falls to the drawing still illuminated on the tablet before him, and I feel my eyes widen.

“Oh, wow,” I breathe, moving to the side of the desk so I can see it clearly. “Holden, that’s so beautiful.”

It’s a conceptual drawing of a house, one that I’ve definitely never seen before, and very different from the kind of work Holden’s team usually takes on. It’s as if pieces of the building have been chipped away, replaced with glass, and I tilt my head, gazing down at the design, which manages to be contemporary and organic at once.

“Thank you.”

My heart flutters as I look up to meet a pair of intensely blue eyes. Neither of us looks away.

“Who is it for?” I manage to ask in a quiet rush, hyperaware of the slickness coating my panties that definitely wasn’t there a few minutes ago. When I came in here, I had the purest of intentions, really, I did.

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