I felt myself blushing as I bit my lower lip. "I shouldn't have been doing it here," I said. "I know I'm paid to clean."
He gestured around the office with his right hand. "Looks pretty damn clean to me. If dancing helps you do your job this well, keep it up."
His eyes sparkled with amusement as he brought his gaze back to me. I caught a whiff of his cologne, something sporty yet sensual. My already scrambled thought process devolved even further. "I, um, thank you?"
"Was that a question or a statement of thanks?" he teased.
I desperately needed to get myself together. My stomach was a bundle of nerves, and my heart was beating like it did when I was miles into a run.
After a deep breath, I tried again. "It was a thank you."
Anxious to do something that would allow me to focus on something that wasn't him, I turned to my cleaning cart.
"I appreciate your understanding, Mr. Channing. I'll get out of your hair now."
"You have to call me Jake."
I refrained from pointing out that my supervisor would probably fire me on the spot if he heard me calling the CEO by his first name. Even knowing I'd probably get in trouble if anyone found out, I felt compelled to use it.
"Okay… Jake."
"Don't you want to tell me your name?" he asked.
The weird thing was that I did want him to know my name—but really, what was the point? It wasn't like our paths would cross in the future. Still, I told him anyway.
"It's Amber," I answered as I began rolling my cart toward the door.
He came forward and set his hand down on the side of it, stopping me from continuing. "Show me where it needs to go, and I'll push it there," he said.
"No!" I yelped. "If anyone sees you pushing my cart, I'll be fired for sure."
Jake frowned as he shook his head. "I'd like to see someone try."
"No, really," I squeaked frantically. "I'll lose my job. There's a reason cleaning of the executive offices happens after you've all left for the day and that reason is that we're not to be seen. It took me forever to find a job that didn't require me to work before three in the afternoon that wasn’t in food service. I'm the worst waitress in the entire world, Jake. I can't lose this."
The internal struggle he was having played out across his face for several seconds before he nodded and lifted his hands away from the cart.
"I don't like it, but I understand."
My dancing in his office hadn't been an issue, but pushing a wheeled cart was an issue for some reason. I wasn't sure why.
"It's nothing to worry about," I assured him. "I push this thing around all night, and I've never had a problem. It's not like it's heavy."
"I'm assuming you like working here?"
"Yes," I answered. "It's got great hours, the pay is good, and the benefits are excellent. It's a no drama, no tension job and I want to keep it that way."
He nodded. "Can I ask you a question?"
"What do you do during the day that you need to work at nights? College?"
The minute I thought of Macon, I smiled with pure love. "No. I graduated last year. I figured I'd be working in an office by now, but instead, I'm home with the baby all day."
Jake looked unhappy. "You're married?" he asked, his voice clipped.
I shook my head. "Oh! No. Macon isn't mine. He's my nephew. My best friend is alone while her husband is deployed, so I'm helping out until he gets back. I watch the baby Monday through Thursdays during the day while she's in class. That's why I needed a job with these hours."
He looked impressed, which made me smile. Most people thought it was weird that I had stepped in to help so that Caroline could finish her degree. She'd missed our senior year because of her pregnancy, and I knew better than anyone what graduating meant to her.
"You're a great friend," he said.
I shrugged as I let out a little laugh. “Caroline is my family and what I’m doing is just what family does."
He nodded his understanding. "There's nothing more important," he agreed.
I smiled, pleased with his understanding.
"So you like children," he stated.
I nodded. "I love them. In a perfect world I’d wind up with three or four of my own in a few years."
He smiled at me as if I'd just shared invaluable information with him.
"You're very young to be thinking about having a family," he stated.
"I don't feel as young as I am," I said with a little laugh.
"How old are you?" he asked.
"I turned twenty-three last week."
"I'm sorry I missed it. Happy birthday, Amber."
My eyes had dropped to his lips as he spoke but when he wished me a happy birthday, my gaze flew up to meet his.