Page 19 of Whiskey Darling
It must be the latter because I’ve proved his initial theory. I’m not experienced enough for this job.
“Those plans aren’t completely…” I stammer. “I merely wanted to show the possibilities, but without the marketing plan, it doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me anyway.” Flynn’s eyes lock on me. Something resembling sympathy gleams in those dark golden-brown depths.
I guess he feels sorry for the girl in over her head. The girl who can’t put together a simple PowerPoint. If he’s curious about the plans, maybe he intends on tearing them down.
Just like Connor did.
My jaw tightens.
These are the plans I’ve kept secret. I haven’t shared them with anyone because I thought Flynn should hear them first. I wanted to dazzle him today. To prove to all of them I offered something special. Something unique. Something brilliant.
I would have told him that day in the barrel room, but he distracted me. I wanted him to kiss me in the darkened shadows of those whiskey barrels. I would have let him if Michael hadn’t interrupted us. And if Flynn hadn’t made me angry by acting as though our being together was a dirty secret, I would have told him all about my ideas and my plans.
I grit my teeth. “I can’t say right now.”
Flynn tosses the marketing folder onto the table. “My office, Darling. Now, if you please.”
He realizes his mistake in the casual use of my last name, but only a tic in his jaw reveals it.
Following him out of the room, I catch Sawyer grinning, then overhear one of the girls murmur beneath her breath.
“WishIwas being called into Flynn’s office…”
Michael nearly crows as the door clicks shut with our exit, “You really wanna be her right now? After that major screw-up?”
Jenna gives me a smile when I trot past her desk on Flynn’s heels. Responding with a mock salute, it dies a quick death when he abruptly spins and catches me.
He dismisses his secretary for the rest of the afternoon.
“Tell Frankie we won’t need him, either. I’ll give Miss Darling a ride home.”
Once inside his office’s sleek, industrial space, he clicks the lock on the door while I plop in one of the leather club chairs. At the polished concrete bar, he pours himself a drink but does not offer me one. Pulling out his phone, he fires off a quick text. Sawyer, no doubt.
The chime assigned to his partner confirms it when the text is answered.
Flynn lets out a small grunt of annoyance as he reads the message, turning the phone off before tossing it on his desk. When he stalks toward the wall of floor to ceiling windows, presenting me with his back, I hop back up on my feet. At the bar, I concoct an old fashioned, the steps so familiar I could do it in my sleep.
Swirling the cocktail so the orange peel aroma is released, I sit again, waiting for Flynn’s decision. We’re too far into this campaign, so he can’t outright fire me. Besides, there’s my contract, but he could remove me from leading the team, replace me with someone more experienced.
Even over something so small as a technical error in a presentation… he could do it.
I may be young, but I’m not stupid. I may be inexperienced, but I know what I’m doing. I may be his employee, but Flynn wants me as much as I want him. This is so complicated.
Flynn stares out over the mountains in the distance and the town below. He still hasn’t said anything. Neither have I.
Silence chips away at my nerves. With it comes doubt. Anxiety forms a knot inside my stomach the size of a bowling ball. Does he hate all my ideas? Are they not innovative enough? Grand enough? Maybe they’re too juvenile, even if they are proven methods.
Iknowwhat I’m doing. This was just a stupid mistake. I’ll triple check my presentations next time…
Assuming there is a next time.
My jaw tilts.
I won’t let him demote me.
Flynn and I share many characteristics. We both like being in charge. We have strong opinions on how things should be done. Surprisingly, we both enjoy making lists. I’ve driven myself crazy wondering what might be on his.
