Page 32 of The Proximity Effect

“It was a nightmare.” Evan’s chair legs thumped back to the floor. “Even I couldn’t understand it.”

Liam idly spun a pen between his fingers. “After the scheduling debacle, the head chef quit. Something about impossible working conditions and us not understanding how things work.”

“That’s understandable. The dinner staff needs to be there during lunch service to start dinner prep unless there are twice as many cooks who can speed up the process.”

“We know that now. Then the second chef quit about a month in, right after I suggested we add a breakfast burrito food truck in the parking lot.” Evan sighed, looking sad. “That would have been a stellar marketing opportunity.”

“It was a terrible idea, like most of what you come up with.” Archer looked pained at the mere memory.

“It was brilliant, and you know it.”

“And the remaining cooks?” I tried to steer us back on track before we ended up discussing mobile food ventures all morning. They bickered like siblings fighting over the TV remote. The dynamic was fascinating, like watching a three-way tennis match where nobody was keeping score.

“Apparently, word got around that we’re insufferable to work for.” Liam stared down at the table. “And that we weren’t honoring Gavin’s memory.”

The room went eerily silent, and I was almost scared to breathe. The tension was thick enough that I could practically see it hovering in the air between us.

Archer cleared his throat, clearly trying to salvage some professionalism from the wreckage of this meeting. “So, what do you think of our offer?”

I looked at the salary again, then at the three men who somehow managed to run off an entire kitchen staff through sheer force of personality. This was either going to be the biggest mistake of my life or the best decision I’d ever made. Knowing my track record, it would probably be a little bit of both. Mistakes could only lead to growth.

“I’m in, but I have conditions.”

“Name them,” Archer said, all business, at the same time Evan asked, “Does this mean I can get the food truck?”

Was he being serious? I honestly couldn’t tell. What was next? Would he try to convince me that deep-fried butter was the next big thing?

“No food truck,” I said firmly, trying not to smile at his crestfallen expression, “and I want to handle all kitchen staff management, including scheduling.”

They all stared at me for a moment before Archer nodded slowly, like someone who wasn’t used to compromising but was willing to try. “Deal.”

“Great!” I stood up, glancing at my phone. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a massage to get to. I’ll have to fill out paperwork afterward.”

“Don’t forget about me.” Evan jumped up, following me to the door like an eager puppy.

A short walk across the lobby was all I had to question what the hell I was doing. We barely had to wait before the spa attendant led us to the “Couples Serenity Suite.” The name alone made me want to laugh hysterically. There was nothing serene about the way my nerves were firing on all cylinders, making me feel like I’d chugged three espressos back-to-back.

“You can undress to your comfort level and slip under the sheets,” the attendant said cheerfully, as if this was totally normal and not at all the beginning of a disaster. “Your therapists will be in shortly.”

The room was beautiful with warm wood and soft lighting and had two massage tables placed parallel to each other. They were close enough that if I reached out, I could probably touch... nope. Not doing that.

Though I had to admit, the eucalyptus-infused air and gentle instrumental music would’ve been perfectly relaxing if I wasn’t about to get mostly naked next to my new boss. One of my new bosses. Oh God.

“I’ll turn around.” Evan’s voice came out unnaturally low in the quiet room, with an edge that suggested he was enjoying my discomfort far too much. “Unless you want help with?—”

I summoned my best drill sergeant impression. “Turn. Around.”

He chuckled but complied, and I heard the rustle of his clothes as I quickly stripped down to nothing but anxiety and regret. The sheet was warm against my skin as I scrambled onto the table, trying to arrange myself with some semblance ofdignity. At least I’d remembered to shave my legs this morning. Not that it mattered. At all.

“All clear.” I immediately hated how breathless I sounded, like I’d run up three flights of stairs.

Evan let out a grunt as he got himself situated on his table. “This is nice, isn’t it?”

I didn’t have time to respond before I heard the door open, and I tried not to tense up as two sets of footsteps entered. My face was firmly planted in the face cradle, giving me an excellent view of the floor and absolutely nothing else. The industrial-grade carpet suddenly became fascinating as I counted the subtle geometric patterns woven into its surface.

“I’m Aiden,” a deep voice introduced himself, “and this is Luna. We’ll be your massage therapists today.”

“Any areas you’d like us to focus on?” Luna’s voice was warm and professional. She reminded me of my favorite yoga instructor, who never judged me when I face-planted during crow pose.

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