Oh, how I wish I could unleash on him. For showing up here unannounced, scaring me, making me fall in that damn pool and making me feel like a fool.

But I swallow all of that. He’s my boss. I don’t want to do anything to mess this up. I also know my dislike of him is irrational. His “you’re not my type” declaration stung more than I wanted to admit initially. Seeing him this morning, looking more handsome than he should, makes that sting feel fresh. I’ve got to put that aside and behave like a professional.

I struggle to calm myself before I lift my eyes from the snow-white marble countertop and look at him. Of course, he’s not even looking at me. He’s scrolling through his phone while he munches on that chocolate croissant. The one I’d planned on eating, but didn’t pick up because I was afraid to look greedy for taking two.

I clear my throat to make sure I don’t sound angry before I speak. “I’m sorry if I came across that way. Falling into the pool rattled me. I have no reason to dislike you. I’m looking forward to working together.”

“Good. Glad you made that decision quickly.”

I pick up the coffee he brought. It’s strong and black, just the way I hate it. But, I drink it like it’s the most delicious beverage I’ve ever had.

When I was little and my dad would scold me, Julian would always say, “If you don’t want people to talk down to you, then behave yourself.” It’s a piece of advice I live by. God, I miss Julian.

Thinking of him makes my eyes sting. I look back at Reece to see him watching me. His expression is pensive. I remind myself where I am and who I’m with and the sting in my eyes goes away.

“Okay, let’s get down to business.”

I glance at my watch and see it’s already seven thirty. I’d asked the two screenwriters to meet me at the office at eight thirty.

As if reading my mind, Reece says, “We have time.” He strolls over to the other side of the kitchen island and presses a button. A drawer pops open and I watch in horror as he drops his half-eaten pastry inside. Wasting food is a sin. My mother never threw anything away and neither did I. When he looks up and catches my eye he must misunderstand the cause for the horror on my face.

“Oh, that’s the trash can. Did you think I was putting garbage into your kitchen drawer?”

“I know that’s the trash. Why did you throw that away?” I ask him.

“Because . . . I’m full,” he says slowly, as if I’m the dense one.

“There was almost an entire half left. Why didn’t you just save it for later?”

He quirks his head like he’s just seen a three-legged kangaroo.

“Save it for later? What? Like put it in my pocket?” He’s amused.

I roll my eyes unable to hide my exasperation. “Of course not. Just wrap it in a paper towel and put it the bag. That was so wasteful.” I huff.

His eyes widen with genuine surprise. Then, he walks back to the drawer, presses the button to open it again and peers inside. He starts mumbling to himself.

“Nothing else in here . . . Should be safe enough.”

He reaches inside and pulls out the pastry. With a wink, he takes a huge bite.

I know my mouth is open. I know I’ve got bug eyes, too. I don’t care.

He finishes chewing and sits down on one of the barstools. “What? I’ve never really thought about it before, but you’re totally right,” he says matter-of-factly before taking a huge gulp of coffee. He looks at me and smirks.

“I’m not a monster, Lucía. I can admit when I’m wrong.” He does a ceremonial drum roll on the counter and my eyes follow the motion of his hands. They are huge with a dusting of hair on the backs of them. I was in a panic when he lifted me out of the pool, but I remember the way they felt as he rubbed my arms to warm me up. They’re strong. There was a sureness in his touch that helped me to calm down.

“Are you imagining my hands around your throat? You’re staring at them like you’ve just seen me use them for something nefarious.”

“I wasn’t thinking anything. I’m just waiting for you to tell me whatever it is you came here to say.”

He laughs, but it’s more of a scoff and I know I’m blushing again. I’m annoyed with myself for being so transparent.

“Okay, Lucía. I know this is all new to you and I want you to understand some of the dynamics. A novice leading a screenwriting team is nearly unheard of. So, prepare yourself for pushback from your team. They are going to test you, push you, they might even try to undermine you.” He takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving mine. He must see the mild panic as it skitters across my face. “I’m not trying to scare you. It’s just the nature of the beast,” he says, his tone reassuring.

“You have two jobs. The first one, obviously, is to get the screenplay written. The second is to lead the team. To be the person who makes difficult calls and then deals with the fallout. You’ve got to manage the group dynamic. They’ll feed off your energy. So, you need to do whatever it is you do to keep yourself even and focused. You guys will write almost every day except for whatever you decide are your off days. You’ll have read-backs where you go over what you’ve written. Ultimately, you decide what works, what doesn’t and where you’re going next with the story.”

He hops off the stool and starts pacing.

“And when the team is done, you need to go over the pieces everyone wrote and make sure that you’re getting the best from people. The strength of the writing is going to be important. This story is character driven, and dialogue is what’s going to tell it well or fuck it up.”

He stops his pacing and looks at me. “You have any questions?”

I have a million questions; I feel like I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. Talk about being careful what you ask for. I haven’t had much time to prepare or get ready. I’m grateful he’s telling me all of this. I know he wants the film to do well. But I can tell he wants me to do well, too.

I know Reece is watching me. My brain spins as I try to make sense of everything that is happening and I don’t want him to see all of that. So, I just say, “Not right now. Thank you. It’s a lot to absorb, but I’ll do my best to not let you down.”

He walks to stand in front of me, so that we’re just a few inches shy of toe-to-toe. Besides this morning in the pool, it’s probably the closest I’ve been to him. I can feel the energy radiating from him. It’s magnetic—and it takes real effort to resist the pull of it. I just want to lean forward a little . . .

Oh God. This isn’t good. I can’t be into the man I work for and who’s made it clear that he’s not into me.

“Lucía, don’t worry about letting me down.” He puts his hands on my shoulders. I stifle my gasp at the nearly electric charge that his touch sends through me. It’s too much. I step out of his grasp as casually as I can and grab my coffee from the counter. He picks his up, too. But he only holds it as he continues to speak. His eyes never leaving mine.

“Focus on yourself. This is your dream. You wrote that book. You want to bring this story to life. Don’t let anything get in the way of that. It’s not going to be easy. But, I’ll help you, if you let me. I’m not saying we need to be best friends. But us getting along would make all of this easier.”

I take all of this in and I try to reconcile it with what I thought he’d be like, and I can’t. This display of graciousness has thrown me for a loop. He’s . . . nice.

“Reece. Thank you. I know I’m not the easiest person in the world. But I promise, I’ll work hard—”

“And that’s all I ask, Luc.” His voice is gentle as he cuts me off and I’m actually relieved. I feel like I was about to reveal more of myself than I’m really ready to.

Suddenly he snaps his fingers and points at me. “You need to learn how to swim,” he says excitedly.

“What?” I ask.

“I can teach you how to swim. Kill two birds with one stone. You can learn how to swim and it’s a great trust building exercise,” he says with a shrug.

I can’t suppress the shocked bark of laughter. “Oh, no. I don’t want to learn how to swim. I’ve gone twenty-three years without knowing how and I don’t want to learn now.”

Reece laughs, too. “Are you serious? I saw you looking at the water. You wanted to get in. Don’t let your fear stop you.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“You absolutely are. Why else would you say no?”

“Aren’t we going to be busy? When will we even have time?”

“We’ll do it in the mornings. You only need thirty minutes a session. Come on. When will you ever get the chance to take lessons from an Olympic swimming champion?”

I regard him. He looks sincere, despite the teasing note in his voice. He’s right. I do want to get into the water. I hate that I don’t know how to swim. I’ve always wanted to learn and haven’t ever had the chance. Spending time with him might be awkward at first, but I’m sure I’ll get over this silly crush. And it would be a good way to get to know each other. “Okay. That’s fine, but let me return the favor and give you some yoga lessons.”

He leans back and groans.

“I’m too big for yoga. Can’t you teach me to crochet or bake banana muffins? Something useful?” he says with a pained look on his face.

“I can’t bake or crochet. And yoga is useful. It centers me and helps me get ready for each day.” I grin up at him as I pat my stomach. “It’s the reason I have such incredible core strength.”

He stills and I worry that I’ve said something wrong. “What’s wrong? I mean, if you really don’t want to learn yoga, we can skip it.”

He shakes his head, a slow smile spreading on his face, revealing that dimple again. “No, it’s not that. You smiled at me. Sincerely and with all your teeth. That’s a first. So, if yoga makes you feel like that, then hell, you can teach me yoga. We can even start with the yoga. Four weeks of yoga, four weeks of swimming.”

“Okay . . .” I’m so surprised by his words that I can’t think of anything to say in return.

He stands up, gathering his phone and keys and starts toward the front door. “Take the golf cart behind the house. The keys are in the ignition. Ride up the red brick path until you get to the third building with the huge parking lot on the side. You can’t miss it. Your team’s meeting room is on the second floor. They’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“Where are you going?” I ask, sad that he’s leaving just as the conversation was getting good.

“To work. Where you should be going, too. I’ve got to change before I head in.” He gestures to his casual clothes with his hands. “I’ll see you later, Luc. Remember: you’re the leader.” And with that he turns around and walks out the door.

I watch him go and try to collect my chaotic thoughts. It’s only eight in the morning and it already feels like I’ve had a full day. Reece surprised, confused and excited me this morning. And if it’s any indication of what the next few months will be like, I’m going to need to keep my wits about me. I look down at myself and head back to my bedroom to change. This is the first day of the rest of my life, and I want my team to know I’m serious and ready to work. I’ll save my cut offs for tomorrow.