Not don’t celebrate. Can’t celebrate. That was a different thing altogether.
r /> Whether the reasons were financial or emotional didn’t much matter. Not if I could try to do something to alleviate even a fraction of the turbulence in her expression.
When I didn’t reply, she pivoted and walked out.
I was getting really tired of her walking away from me. Mostly because I watched her go, every damn time.
I returned to my desk and picked up the phone. For once, I didn’t overanalyze what I was going to do. She had a habit of causing those kinds of reckless actions in me, and I was going to have to put a stop to it.
Eventually.
“Next Friday, I want to hold a company-wide Thanksgiving banquet. Yes, less than two weeks before the holiday. I’m well-aware it’ll be a scheduling nightmare, Jack, but that’s why I called you. You’re the king of your domain, right? You know how to get these things done. Or better yet, know who to contact to do them for you.”
Jack’s sigh almost made me smile. “What about that brand-spanking-new assistant of yours? Isn’t this more under her purview than mine? Not to mention she can actually tolerate your ass, unlike me.”
For a moment, I wondered if I’d imagined the knowing tone of Jack’s voice. Had Violet blabbed what she’d seen to her best buddy?
As soon as I considered the idea, I dismissed it. That woman was a vault, and sticky fingers Hollister didn’t have the combination.
“This isn’t for Grace. She’s involved with other things. Can you make it happen or not?”
“You do realize you’ve held company-wide events that aren’t work-related approximately never, right?”
“I know that. Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf.”
Jack snorted. “Yeah, and maybe I’m the Sugar Plum Fairy. Wanna see my tights?”
“I’ll pass,” I said drily. “Make it happen.”
“Aye, aye, sir. Whatever you say, sir. Anything else I can do for you, sir?”
I had to laugh. The guy was such an asshole. This time, he just happened to be right.
“Yes. Make sure Ms. Copeland attends.”
Before he could mull over that statement, I hung up.
Four
After eating half the corned beef sandwich and all the pickles, I wrapped up the other half and stuck it in the employee fridge. I labeled it “for anyone who wants it” hoping Grace might eat it, but I was acting like enough of a pussy. If she didn’t want the damn sandwich, she didn’t have to eat it.
Maybe she didn’t like deli meat. Maybe she’d become a vegetarian in the last week.
Maybe I needed to jerk off until all this ridiculousness I was spouting drained out of my mind.
I buried myself in work until dinnertime came and went. It was hours past dark the next time I looked up from my schematics and stretched my neck. My eyes were starting to blur and I needed to clear my head.
At least my other head had taken a temporary break. Thank fuck. I hadn’t been this perpetually horny since high school. Probably not even then, since I’d always had control of my impulses. If I didn’t want to be attracted to a woman, I ignored the feeling until it dissipated.
Why that had yet to work with Grace, I didn’t know.
I rose and bent at the waist to stretch out my back. My ergonomic, extremely high-end desk chair wasn’t getting the job done today. Perhaps I’d look into getting a new one someday, when I had time.
Right now, I needed to take a walk. The coffee I’d been mainlining all afternoon had done a number on me. My muscles were jangling, my heart racing, my blood pounding under my skin. It was as if I was in a flight-or-fight situation instead of feeling the natural effects of sitting for so many hours in a row.
I walked past Grace’s desk. Her computer was dark, her chair tucked in. She must’ve gone. She’d probably left sometime ago. Only workaholics like me regularly lived at their desk. And she had another job, one that suited her far more than this one.
She wasn’t meant to be stuck in an office. Not with her kind of eye. She had the sort of talent that deserved to be nurtured, not squandered on spreadsheets and ordering supplies.