“Are you cold?” Oliver asks, his brows raising. “I keep it so fucking cold in here because it keeps me awake. But I can warm it up.”
He starts to stand, his chair squalling again. His brow furrows.
“No, I’m fine,” I say, motioning for him to return to his seat. “I think the adrenaline of my first day is starting to wear off. I always get cold after I go into fight or flight.”
“You were in fight or flight? About working for me?” He sits down and grimaces as the chair squeaks through the air.
“Well …” I smile sheepishly. “Maybe that was a slight exaggeration. But it is a little overwhelming to walk in here.”
Oliver cocks his head to the side, running his thumb over his bottom lip in thought. I rip my eyes away from his mouth and pick up my pen instead. It takes only a second to make a note to research a good chair for him.
“I have a question,” I say, raising my gaze to his. I’m momentarily silenced by the intensity in his eyes, so I clear my throat. “What time do you want me to start? I know it was eight today, but I’m unsure if that’s the usual starting time or what.”
He leans back in his chair. “I wanted you here early today so we could get started. My day is usually a shit show by nine. If you would’ve started any later than eight, I wouldn’t have had time to see you at all.”
I force a swallow at the implication in his words. Was he looking forward to seeing me?
Of course, he was. You’re his assistant.
I wipe my palms on my pants again.
He rests his elbow on the armrest and runs a finger down the side of his face. I have to fight the urge to follow the motion instead of looking him in the eye.
“Does eight work for you?” he asks.
“I’ll be here at whatever time you need me.”
“Eight it is then.”
“Sounds good,” I say, making a note of that on my pad.
“We have a meeting the first Friday of the month at six o’clock.”
I recoil. “Six? I’m not that much of a morning person.”
He grins. His eyes flicker into a deep shade of green. “Guess you’re going to have to adjust.”
I grin back, the playfulness in his tone helping me relax. “Guess so. Are they the only ones we have regularly?”
“For you? Yes. There will be a variety of others I’ll ask you to attend. We keep track of all of that on the calendar. Have you gotten access to that?”
“I was looking through it earlier. It’s quite colorful.”
“You are Orange, I believe. I’m Purple.”
I write that down. “May I ask who is Olive Green? Because Olive Green and Hot Pink have some … interesting conversations there.”
Oliver rolls his eyes and sighs. “Olive Green is my brother, Wade. Should’ve been me since I’m Oliver, I know. But someone fucked up.”
We laugh. A comfort between us settles the bubble of uneasiness in my stomach and reminds me of our interaction at the accident. It was easy, despite the circumstance, and if I hadn’t walked away with such a good vibe from him then, I wouldn’t be here right now.
“You met Boone, otherwise known as Hot Pink,” Oliver says. “Wade is his exact opposite.”
“Oh, yes, Wade the wizard, right?”
“Yes.” Oliver leans forward, lacing his thick fingers together on his desktop. He smiles. “Speaking of wizard, way to throw me under the bus with Boone.”
I grin. “Sorry. I got confused.”
“You did not.” He laughs. “You wanted to watch me squirm.”
My shoulders rise and fall as I play coy.
“I will get you back,” he teases.
My stomach warms, and the heat flows through my veins. I’ll look forward to it. Visions of Oliver and zip ties rush through my brain. A flush creeps across my cheeks. I keep my head down and doodle a flower in the corner of the notepad while I wait to return to a normal color.
“What time do you go home? Or do I go home, I guess?” I ask, coloring in the center of the flower.
“You can leave around five, depending on what we’re in the middle of.”
I nod. And gulp as I force errant thoughts out of my head.
“I stay until …” He laughs, leaning back in his squeaky chair again. “I work too much. I don’t get out of here until six or seven most nights.”
My gaze lifts. “Even though you start at four?”
He smiles ruefully. “I see my whole family here, so it’s not like I’m locked away in some castle. I have lunch with my mother once a week. I usually play golf with my dad a couple of times a month …” He grimaces. “Touchy subject. But the point is that work and family life come together here for me. It’s not as bad as it sounds.”