Page 21 of One Last Job

It’s Friday, and for the first time this week, Hawthorne hasn’t bought me lunch. We’re about to go meet Cynthia at a nearby restaurant. I’d tried to worm my way out of it, but Hawthorne had been oddly insistent, even going so far as to sign off an email to Cynthia with “looking forward to lunch with you and Amber on Friday” to seal the deal.

He nods and gestures to the door. “Lead the way.”

The restaurant is only about a ten-minute walk from the townhouse, but it feels like an eternity with Hawthorne by my side. And, make no mistake about it, hedoesstay by my side. I try to march a few paces ahead, but he easily matches my stride and comes to walk next to me, his body acting like a barrier against me and the cars racing down the street.

It’s a gentleman’s move, but I can’t appreciate it. The only thing I can think about is howawkwardit is between us. We don’t say much to each other when we’re in the club. Hawthorne works exclusively on the fourth floor, only coming out for lunch, and I’ve set up my space on the second floor. Aside from our lunchtime interactions, all our conversation happens via email as if we weren’t in the same building for eight hours a day. I’m not sure I know what to say to him without a computer screen between us.

I glance over at him. He’s got his phone out and is tapping away at the screen as we walk. Does he everstopworking? I know I’m one to talk, but I think he’s got even me beat when it comes to being a workaholic.

He’s always there when I arrive in the morning. Even though we don’t see each other until lunch, I can feel his presence when I hear his deep voice as he takes calls. He’s never left before me either. I wonder how long he stays.

“Is this place any good?” he asks suddenly. He shoves his phone into his pocket and tilts his head in my direction.

I shrug. “I’ve not been here before.”

This particular restaurant is way above my price range. I can only eat at places like this when Cynthia is footing the bill. Bailey always jokes that this is the one perk of this job. I get to eat like a rich bitch. “But Cynthia chose it,” I continue. “So it’s definitely good. She’s got great taste.”

“Where would you have chosen?”

The question catches me off guard, and when I look over at him, he’s got an intense look in his eyes. Like he’s genuinely interested in my answer. “This part of London is full of great restaurants,” I tell him diplomatically. “If you need any recommendations, I’m sure your hotel concierge could help.”

He shakes his head. “I wantyourrecommendation. If you and your friend, the one from last week, were meeting up after to work to grab a bite to eat — where would you go?”

“Why?” I ask. “Planning on taking that from me too?”

His lips twitch. “I didn’t take anything from you. You left. And like I said, you’re more than welcome to come back up to the office.”

“And likeIsaid, I’m fine where I am.”

I hear Bailey’s voice echoing in my mind.Do you always have to be so relentlessly stubborn?

Yes. Yes I do. Especially when it makes Hawthorne grin like that. Like he’s actuallyenjoyingthis little verbal sparring match we’ve started.

“Sure you are.”

We reach the restaurant and I’m spared from having to think up a retort. I spot Cynthia immediately. She’s sat at the back of the restaurant, wearing a turquoise blazer that’s so bright, it would have been impossible to miss her.

“Finn Hawthorne,” she cries, standing up to give Hawthorne two cheek kisses. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you and put such a handsome face to that name,darling.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I know for a fact that they’ve spoken on video calls before, but Cynthia has always been one for dramatics.

She barely acknowledges me outside of a perfunctory nod. I take the opportunity to slide into my seat and let them get on with the introductions.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Hawthorne says with an admittedly charming smile. He drops into the empty seat next to me. “The board also sends their regards. They were all very excited when I showed them the design concepts.”

Cynthia beams. “Yes, well, nothing but the best for The August Room. I know you’re on a tight deadline, so I worked overnight to get those concepts ready for you.”

I reach for the glass of water in front of me and chug it down before I do something stupid like laugh in Cynthia’s face.Iworked overnight to get those designs done. But what does the truth matter?

I wonder if he buys it or if Cynthia’s lie is only obvious to me because I know the truth.

“We really appreciate it,” Hawthorne says easily, and he immediately drops down a notch in my already low estimation of him. “Your designs were stunning.”

Cynthia’s smile falters ever so slightly. “Oh, don’t flatter me, Finn. I’m sure there are things you wanted to change.”

“Just a few small things,” Hawthorne admits with a contrite nod. “Amber’s been extremely helpful ironing out a few details to get everything just right.”

Cynthia turns and looks at me for the first time since I sat down. There’s a glint in her eye that tells me she’s pleased that Hawthorne has admitted to picking apartmydesigns. “I’m glad Amber’s been helpful bringing the concepts to life,” she drawls. “She’s really arisingstar.”

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