His warm eyes sparkle in the low light. They’re the same color as a cup of cappuccino. Something about that familiarity in tone puts me at ease. What can I say, as a designer, I’m kind of a color geek. I don’t realize I’m staring until Salem swipes his hand across his cheek.
“Crumb?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re staring at me like I have something on my face.”
“Yeah,” I lie to avoid being called out for staring directly into his beauty. “But you’re good. You got it.”
This can’t end well. I’m clearly making a fool of myself. I grab a cookie and start to slide off the stool, but my sweatshirt gets caught on a screw, and when I stand the stool moves with me, scraping across the linoleum.
“Are you okay?” Salem smiles and there’s chocolate on his tooth.
“You…” I gesture to my tooth. He runs his tongue over his teeth as his face turns crimson.
“Did I—?”
“Yeah you got it.”
I sit back onto the stool and after a beat, we both start laughing. “Well, this is going well.” Salem runs his hand through his thick, dark hair. The strangest thought crosses my mind.I think it actually is.
4
Salem
I can’t believeI’m nervous around this woman. It’s been years since anyone’s given me butterflies. Eliana looks adorable right now, her hair in a messy bun and well-worn sweats that surprisingly show off every delicate curve on her body. I can’t help but stare, but don’t want to seem like a total jerk. I am, after all, her boss.
Almost.
I clear my throat, reminding myself that she’s still interviewing for a job. This is strictly a business relationship. “Any breakthroughs?”
“Honestly? Not really.” She smiles, and points to a cookie. “But I think this guy will help.”
“Those cookies always help me.” A memory of being in this kitchen with my mom, eating these exact cookies dances before my eyes. It’s strange when someone you love so much leaves your life.
“Where did you go?” Eliana’s voice brings me back into the present.
She’s perceptive. I’ll give her that. “I used to eat these cookies with my mom.”
“You seem like you two were really close.” She takes a bite, covering her mouth with her hand when she chews. “Phoebe never really talked about your mom. What was she like?”
It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken of her out loud. It’s too hard, but for some reason, right now I don’t mind. “Phoebe was very young when she died.”
“Yeah, I’ve only really heard about your stepmom.”
“Constance is wonderful. But—”
“But she’s not your mom.”
Eliana’s cornflower blue eyes are an open doorway. “Exactly.”
“My parents divorced when I was little. I know it’s not the same. My stepmom’s great, too. Really. But she’s not my mom.”
“Being the oldest I spent the most time with our mother. My father gave her the go-ahead to open the lodge and she came out with guns blazing. We were drowning in books of wallpaper, carpet samples, even furniture catalogues.” I laugh in spite of myself. “You probably don’t remember things like that.”
“I’m notthatyoung, Salem.”
My eyes dance up and down her soft face. She is that young to me. The same age as my baby sister, but Eliana seems so much more mature. So much more sure of herself and where she wants to be in life. I can’t imagine Phoebe ever storming into anyone’s office on principle alone, which is probably why I’m falling for Eliana so hard and so fast.