Page 14 of If I See You Again
Okay, so he’d caught me. I didn’t know how to keep my cool in a tense situation. He should have figured that out when we met. I’d sat there and practically spilled my guts about getting stood up. That was my default. When under pressure, I spew. Not the contents of my stomach, but words. And you couldn’t stop them. They just flowed. I rambled incessantly until someone told me to shut the hell up.
“Yeah, I get that. Okay, listen. My boss thinks something is up because you sped up your timeline on things. So what’s the motivation here? Am I fucking something up? I can work harder, I promise. I’m not normally this much of a mess. What I sent you isn’t my best work, and I’ll admit to that, but you keep distracting me—”
“Malcolm.” There was laughter in his tone, and I scowled at the empty space of my office. “Would you calm down for a minute?”
“Calm down? You want me to calm down?”
“Fair point. I didn’t mean to cause problems. The truth is, I wanted to see you. There was nothing nefarious behind my plans. I promise.”
I instantly deflated, although my guard should have stayed up. This wasn’t keeping things professional. He’d all but admitted that.
“That’s a terrible excuse to move…”
His smooth chuckle filled the line, and it sent vibrations through my body that had my dick plumping up.No. Bad boy. Don’t do that.
“Trust me. There’s more than one reason to move. I want to see your pretty face, and maybe if I was closer, it would help you with those ideas. There’s no one else that I want on this project. Just you.”
I wanted to snort. Laugh. Maybe he should have told Mr. Thomas, because he was ready to hand the account off to someone else at the first sign of trouble. Maybe that said more about my boss than it did about me. Then again, my previous work should have spoken volumes. I’d never had a disappointed client. Just how big of a deal was David? I’d never heard of him before he’d walked into the office.
Chapter 10
David
Before I knew it, I was back in Chicago to work on my big project. Malcolm and I had continued to send ideas back and forth via e-mail for a few weeks. It was refreshing to see a different perspective, and while I’d taken a wild leap of faith in hiring him, it was paying off.
Little bolts of lightning shot through my limbs as I sat on the plane. I’d packed up to stay this time, moving my life from North Carolina to Illinois for not only this project, but in hopes of something coming from the spark I’d felt with Malcolm.
While we’d spent time messaging each other over the last couple of months, any time I tried to make it less than professional, he shot me down. Once we were together in person again, I wouldn’t let that happen. There was a lot to learn about the nervous, jittery mess who was in charge of my advertising campaign.
Mr. Thomas met me at baggage claim, and a strange sense of disappointment set in that he was the one picking me up.
“How was your flight, Mr. Garrison? I hope you didn’t have any turbulence?”
I shook my head. “No, it wasn’t bad at all. Smooth all the way here.”
We waited for my bags, and he helped me to a car that was waiting outside. I didn’t need such accommodations, but I appreciated the effort, nonetheless. The car drove me to the swanky hotel I’d booked until I could find something a little more permanent.
“Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Garrison?”
I gave Mr. Thomas a tight smile. “I would like to rest, but I think I’d like to have a conversation with Mr. Fisher about when we’ll sit down and get to work.”
He nodded. “I can see to that. Why don’t you go get some rest, and I’ll send him to you this evening?”
A small snort escaped as I tried not to laugh. It sounded like I was hiring an escort. If I had it my way, Malcolm and I would have some fun, but despite my best efforts, the wall he kept between us hadn’t budged an inch.
The room was nice, but it wasn’t a home. I took off my tie and dropped it on the bed before kicking off my shoes. My mind flashed to the last time I’d stayed in a hotel here in Chicago.
I’d never learned about Malcolm’s scar. Would he tell me about it this time?
I busied myself with putting away my things and ordered myself dinner through room service. I had just finished eating my delicious steak and asparagus when someone knocked on my door. My phone didn’t have any messages on it, so I hadn’t been expecting anyone.
Peering through the peephole, I spotted disheveled brown hair and piercing green eyes. Surely Mr. Thomas had told Malcolm to contact me before sending him here, right? But, knowing what I did about Malcolm Fisher, he’d been too nervous and had justcome. If he’d called ahead, he would have psyched himself out of it.
I swung the door open wide, and there stood the man I’d wanted to see since I’d left two months ago. Was it possible for him to look any better? I could easily devour him, if he’d let me. He still fidgeted, fingers pulling at the sleeves of his dress shirt as he stood before me.
“Mr. Garrison?”
I laughed. “None of that. It will always be David to you.”
