Page 17 of Bossing My Holiday
“I always wondered why you never brought in your own tea or coffee or went out to lunch with any of the employees around the office.”
She starts at the sound of my voice, nearly dropping the container of half-and-half on the ground. She throws me a glare over her shoulder, and I let out a low chuckle.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Something happened last night between her and Tristan. Something I don’t quite understand but want to be part of. I heard it in his voice. It was a desperation he hadn’t allowed out before. He’s scared. And if I know Waverly, she’s feeling the same thing. They’re so similar in so many ways and yet opposite in others.
“Nice suit,” she comments, taking me in. “You look very formal today.”
I glance down at my sharp gray suit with a white shirt and a green tie—again, trying to be seasonable. “Too much?”
“I like it,” she says softly. “You don’t always do the whole suit thing.”
“I have a stupid lunch meeting.”
She smirks. “Business is business.”
“Doesn’t always have to be.”
She shrugs and returns to the kettle once it starts boiling.
“I noticed on one particular Friday that everyone was going out for lunch, and you stayed back,” I continue, since she dodged my first attempt. “I watched you come into the kitchen in search of snacks.”
Her face heats, and she turns away from me to finish making Tristan’s coffee and her tea.
“Do you have a point?” she finally asks now that she’s done with both tasks and has no choice but to engage with me.
“That was the day I started having Claudia bring in food three times a week and making sure that drinks and snacks were always on hand. I thought you were staying behind to impress Tristan or keep up on your work since you’re his only assistant. But now I know better.”
She lowers her head. “I wish he hadn’t told you.”
“I wish you had told me. I would have helped.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell anyone. It’s no one’s problem but my own.”
I step into the kitchen and cross the room until I’m in front of her. With my hand on her chin, I lift it until her eyes meet mine. I should let go. I really need to let go. I told Tristan I’d hold back, but with her, it’s always so fucking hard to do that.
“That doesn’t mean you have to bear it alone.”
She swallows hard and blinks at me.
“Did you come in here to tell me you thought I was a better employee than I am and that you didn’t realize the actual reason I never brought in tea or went out to lunch with the other employees? Are you looking for a thank you? Because I believe I thanked you when you started doing it, but if you needmore ego-assuaging, I’m happy to oblige. Thank you. The food makes everyone’s day a little better, especially mine, and goes a long way to improve overall team morale.”
“I didn’t do it for them, and I don’t care about their opinion of me. I’m not Tristan, Waverly. You don’t have to spar with me.”
She nods slowly, and my hand shifts to cup her jaw. “I know. I’m sorry. I get defensive about it.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable. I want you to know that I’m here for you and that I care about you. Probably more than I should, given our future working roles. But if you ever need someone, for anything, I’m here.”
She softens against me, her eyes growing liquid. “Thank you.”
“It’s the same with him too, you know. He just sucks at mature adulting.”
She smiles, then laughs, but it’s nervous and shaky. Probably because my thumb is now dragging along her silky skin.
“You’re coming to Paris with us.”
“I haven’t said yes yet.”
