Chapter Seven
Addilyn
“I can’t believe I’m here past eight again,” I murmured to myself before extending my arms up over my head and arching my back in a thorough stretch. I blew out a big breath when I released the pose and then leaned forward and craned my neck in the direction of Harris’s office. He was still in there, working hard just like me.
Printing out my updated documents, I loaded them into the report folder and headed down the short hallway to Harris’s closed door. I gave it a tap with my knuckles and then opened it without waiting for a call from within welcoming me to do so. With no light to fill the office through the wall of windows at Harris’s back, his office was dim but his desk glowed from a single banker’s lamp positioned over Harris’s work.
He looked up, and I had to squelch a sigh. He was wearing himself out. “You look awful.” The words were out of my mouth before I even thought about them. Dressed in long slacks, high heels and a form fitting, burgundy sweater that I knew did amazing things to highlight my golden hair, I took my time walking the distance to Harris’s desk. His eyes were on me, and I wanted him to see every move I made. So far, the flirtations had mostly come from me, and they were mild and obscure. They were moments like these when I knew I had his undivided attention that I did my best to bring a spark of heat to Harris’s eyes, but tonight Harris’s eyes were mostly just bloodshot.
I plopped down into the chair beside Harris’s desk and crossed my legs. I said it again. “You look awful.” To my surprise, Harris smiled. Then, to my utter dismay, he laughed. The deep, resonate sound that came out of him washed over me, dancing on the tip of every nerve ending to leave me heady and feeling high.
“I heard you the first time,” he said, still grinning. He leaned back in his chair, his fatigue evident in his heavy shoulders. His eyes traced my lines from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and back up again. When his gaze finally returned to my face, I greeted him with a warm, welcoming smile. I handed over the new, updated report.
“Have you figured out who the embezzler is?” I asked.
Harris nodded. “Frank Druthers in Accounting.”
My brows arched. I had only ever had contact with Frank through company gatherings, social events designed to create interoffice connections and open communication. I couldn’t remember much about him other than the impression he’d made on me, which was that he was a nice guy. Easy going, not flashy, not out to prove anything to anyone. He was fast with a handshake and a smile and liked to listen as much as he liked to talk. I tried to remember anything that he might have done or said to ever make me think that he was someone not trustworthy and came up with nothing. “Frank?”
“Mhm,” Harris confirmed with a head nod.
“When will you talk to him?”
“I’ve got a meeting called with the board to reveal the evidence that we’ve put together, and I’ll talk to Frank when I pull him into that meeting.”
“Wait. What?” I leaned forward in my chair, putting both feet flat on the ground. “You’re not going to talk to him first? Find out if... I don’t know, if it could have been a mistake? A misunderstanding?”
Harris laughed again, but this time instead of dancing over my nerve endings, leaving me with tingles of delight, his laughter raked over me, derisively.
“Don’t be so naive,” Harris chided, rankling me further.
“Naive?” I stood, towering over Harris while he remained in his seated position. “I call for open communication rather than an ambush and you say that that’s naive of me?”
Harris blinked. Then he blinked again, and I realized what I’d just done. I had just put my boss in his place, but I didn’t care. He could take his dismissive, egotistical naive comment and shove it where the sun didn’t shine.
“You’re right,” Harris said, and it was my turn to blink. His tone was even, on the verge of placating even. If Harris was anything, he was not a man blinded by his own ego like my father was. I sat back down, once more crossing my legs. And I waited, wanting to hear more of the thoughts from a powerful man who was night and day different from being the man I grew up with. His eyes traced me up and down again, but with a more appraising look, the kind you would give an equal rather than the look you’d give someone when wondering what they look like naked. “Not enough people do that,” he said, leaving me at a loss for what he meant.
“Do what?”
“Tell me when I’m wrong.”
I just barely managed to stop the gasp that wanted to escape my lungs at his confession.
“And what’s more... I like it,” he added, smiling, and every inch of my body warmed.
It was my turn to imagine him naked.