Page 46 of The Merger
Because sometimes dreams become nightmares that you can’t escape. Those are the ones you never recover from.
Chapter Eleven
Carys
“That’s much better,” I say, taking a step back. “You’ll be much happier in here.”
The bird of paradise stands tall in its brand-new pot, enjoying the late afternoon sun. The leaves are still curled, but there’s nothing I can do to fix that. Hopefully, the brighter lunchroom will be better for it than the dark conference room.
I gather my plant dolly and the strap I found in the maintenance closet that I used to secure the pot on the journey to the other side of the building. The maintenance manager and I met on the elevator this morning. He was kind enough to show me where they keep their equipment in case I needed to borrow anything. He also said I could have a shelf to store things to make it easier on me. It’s already been helpful.
Before stepping into the hallway, I look both directions for Gannon.
As has been the case all day, he’s nowhere to be seen.
“Are you avoiding me, Mr. Brewer?” I whisper. “Because I’m supposed to be the one avoiding you.”
The office is quiet as I trudge down the hallway. The building started to empty just after lunch. The maintenance guy told me that’s typical for a Friday and that by the end of the day, no one would still be around.
It’s given me a lot of time to think—much more than necessary since I spent all of Wednesday night thinking about Gannon and most of yesterday, too. I’ve considered things from every angle.Am I imagining that there’s a connection between us? Do I just want him to be attracted to me so I see what I want to see?
“No, we’re definitely attracted to each other. Under normal circumstances, we’d be having sex,” I mutter to myself. “I can’t imagine he’s celibate. So why is he keeping me at arm’s length?”
My lips twist as I mull this over for the millionth time.
If I know anything in the world, I can read a man—and Gannon wants me. It’s downright palpable.What stops him from going after what he wants?He has my number. I’ve told him to contact me at any time, and surely, he knows I’d jump at the chance. Yet he hasn’t initiated any contact. There’s been nothing.
Why?
“And this, Miss Johnson, is why I didn’t want you to work here. Because you’re trouble.”
Why does he think I’m trouble?
“Are you still here?” John from accounting pops out of a cubicle, making me jump. “Need some help with that?”
I laugh. “No, but I almost needed smelling salts. You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry.”
John’s smile is wide and genuine. He’s the kind of guy you take home to your mom. Ergo, not my type at all.
Still, he’s polite and kind, and I appreciate that.
“I figured you’d be out of here early on a Friday, too,” John says, walking side by side with me.
“Nope. I’m trying to get all of the plants serviced and on the mend. Once I do that, I won’t be here as much—if at all.” The wheels of the dolly screech. “What about you? Why are you still here?”
“We’re going through an audit, so that means extra hours.”
“An audit? That sounds scary.”
He flashes me another killer smile. “It’s not. Apparently, when Mr. Brewer’s father ran the company, things got really … murky. Now, external audits take place twice a year to keep things in check. It’s annoying but smart.”
“I can see that.” I pop open the maintenance closet door with a stopper and roll the dolly inside. Then I grab my tools that I tossed in here earlier and set them on the floor in the hallway. “Maybe Plantcy will be that big one day, and I’ll have my own audits.”
“Plantcy is your company?”
I grin, kneeling beside my stuff so I can get my tools organized and back in their containers. “Yes. It’s my pride and joy.”
