Page 91 of Who's Your Daddy
The woman is doing anything but smiling lately, and that irks me.
“Join me for lunch?”
She lets out a little puff of a breath, a huff if you will, without looking up from her computer screen.
While most men might take it as their cue to stop trying, it only spurs me on.
My phone dings, notifying me of a new email. She’s once again forwarded the email she’s been using as a response to my advances over the last two weeks.
Because yes, it’s been two weeks since our date/non-date—she says it was not a date, I disagree—and she still won’t give me the time of day.
Since I’m a glutton for punishment, I navigate to my inbox and click on her message.
FWD: Reminder of Professional Conduct
Murphy & Machon has a zero tolerance fraternization policy. Thisincludes dating, sleepovers, andbreakfast. If you are found to have violated this policy, you will be fired, effective immediately.
Sincerely
Brian Machon,Managing Partner of Murphy & Machon
First of all, who the hell made the wanker a managing partner? I suppose I should make a habit of paying attention during our meetings. The policy is ridiculous. Sure, it’s technically been in place for years, but it’s never been enforced. How could it be when Sully and Sloane once worked together. I can’t imagine my brother having a hand in the resurgence of the issue. Not after his little sleepover with Sloaney.
Not one to be deterred, I bat my lashes at my reluctant lady. “What’s your favorite fruit?”
Lola jams her fingers into the computer keys, and my phone chimes again. Yet another copy of the damn email.
It’s infuriatingly adorable how hard she’s working to resist me. But Brian’s rules are rubbish. He’s only harping on them because he’s a miserable sod who never got over his college girlfriend.
The man needs to fall in love. Try as I might, it’s been nearly impossible to find a woman open to loving such a curmudgeon. Especially when he refuses to do even the barest of minimums to put himself out there. He won’t even talk to Beckett Langfield, the self-appointed love whisperer. Especially after he discovered that the zoom meeting I scheduled for the two of them was a romance consultation rather than an estate-planning session.
Beckett will live forever—his words, not mine—he’s not planning for death.
Anyway.
“Lola—” I sing once more.
She holds up a hand. “Enough. I am your employee, Mr. Murphy.”
I bark out a humorless laugh.
That’s another new development. She’s begun calling all of us—including Brian—by our last names.
And boy is Brian pissed. Lola may be following his rules but she’s now erected a steel wall where he’s concerned.
He said no fraternization and she ran with it. For years, the two of them have started their day with coffee and a chitchat in his office. Now? All he gets is aGood morning Mr. Machon, is there anything you need from me? When he tries to engage her with conversation, she reminds him of the zero fraternization policy—though a little more politely than she does me—and excuses herself.
“You are also the object of my desires, Ms. Caruso.”
Eyes closed, she blows out a breath. Like she’s silently wishing I’d stop being so wonderful. Like she wants to forget the night we shared. The incredible day that followed. As if she believes that if she closes herself off to what is clearly right in front of her—a man begging for even an ounce of her affection—she can turn off her feelings.
But I know better. She wants this. She’s just as gone as I am. And Brian and his stupid policies will not stop me from making her mine.
My daft fool of a partner is just making it categorically more difficult.
“Cal, stop. Please. I’ve already ordered myself apology Tulips, gluten-free cookies and cupcakes, chocolate-covered strawberries, and a gift card to a ridiculously expensive spa. No matter how many gifts you shower me with, we can’t do this. For you, this is fun and games, but I’ll lose my job if I give in.”
My chest pinches at the annoyance in her tone. She has every right to be irritated, I’m just as miffed. I just wish she’d direct her anger at the right person. Brian is the problem, not me. The man will pay for making her feel this way.
