“Well, I don’t know, sir,” I say with a little too much sass. “I haven’t seen you since yesterday, outside of that moment in the cafeteria when you seemed to glare holes into my head.” I huff. “So, yes. I feel likeMr. Cavendishis appropriate for the situation.”
He sighs. “I’m sorry, Raven. Please take a seat.”
I do as he suggests, not because he asks, but because my legs are getting tired of standing on these horrific stilettos.
“You wanted something?” I drawl, putting the ball in his corner and needing to fill the silence.
“About lunch,” he starts, and I cut him off.
“Yeah, about that...”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry if I acted like an arse, but I was caught off guard seeing you with...him.”
He’s jealous. It’s the only explanation for this behavior, then and now.
Oh, what an interesting turn of events.
“You are an ass. Asher is my friend.”
“I don’t like him.”
“I don’t give a damn. He’s been a part of my life since I was eighteen and has been there through my darkest times. He’s not going anywhere.”
His jaw clenches, and his hands ball into fists on his desk, but eventually, his features slacken, showing he’s capable of being an adult.
“I apologize.”
“I accept your apology. But for the record, jealousy isn’t masculine.”
He barks a laugh. “Noted.”
“Is that all you brought me in for?” I say irritably.
“I’ve booked a short trip to Italy with Holly to scout out locations.”
My head jerks back. “Holly?”
I’m not sure what I was expecting. It’s not like I’m miffed about him going somewhere with another girl, especially Holly, but I’m the account manager. Why am I not going?
He nods. “We don’t have time for both of us to go, and I need you here, Raven.”
I know he’s right. As much as I’d love to be whisked off to Italy, this isn’t a fairy tale. It’s our job.
“If you could send me a list of the landmarks and places you’d like to see in the ads, I’ll grab the shots. Photographs of the real area are not something that we find on Google. We need the true angles of exactly how we’ll want the photos done. I think having Holly in the mock shots will really help the team nail this when it’s time to actually shoot.”
“You’re bringing a photographer with you?”
“I’m more than capable of handling a camera, love. I do own an advertising agency.”
His words may be condescending, but his tone isn’t.
And love?
Dear God, I could get used to him calling me that.
“You can work a camera? Interesting.”
“I can work a great many things,” he says, smirking, but I don’t so much as smile back.