“Mr. Langston? May I speak with you for just a moment, please?” The words dance through the air ahead of me as I hurry down the hallway behind the company president.

The way Brooks whips his head around as I pass his office is a bonus.

“Of course, Miss George. What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping to discuss an issue I ran into yesterday.”

Brooks pops to his feet and rushes around his desk like his ass is on fire.

“It’s something I’d like to speak with you about privately, sir.”

Mr. Langston sweeps his arm out in front of him, toward his office. “Brooks, I’ll have you handle my calls for a bit while Gracyn and I have a chat,” he calls while breezing down the hallway behind me.

The sheer panic that crosses the younger Mr. Langston’s face as his father’s door closes him out makes me just the tiniest bit giddy. Brooks deserves to sweat a little after the shit he pulled yesterday.

“Is everything going all right? I know the records were less than ideal, but is something seriously wrong?” the older gentleman asks, settling himself behind the massive dark desk he uses for show. The real work gets done at the round table in the far corner of his office, the one covered in neatly laid-out file folders, a legal pad, and laptop.

His concern for me is heartwarming, and once again, I wonder how Brooks can possibly be related to this sweet man.

“It’s fine, or … it will be. I believe the work might take longer than I initially thought, and I was wondering how you feel about me taking the remainder of the documents to my office at the week’s end. I should be through most of it. I just want to make sure that I’m doing a thorough job and don’t want to miss anything by being rushed.” I’m almost certain that I’ll be done well before the end of the week, but my request is perfectly reasonable, and I selfishly want time to spend with Gavin. And I have no doubt that Brooks is out there, shaking in his shoes, at just the thought of me telling his dad about last night.

“Well, I guess that’d be acceptable. Is there anything that I can do to help you make the most of your time here this week? I’m sure that, between Brooks and me, we can make sure you’ve got what you need. The last thing I want is for you to be working through lunch and skipping dinner in order to get this done.” He reaches for his phone and says, “I’ll call Brooks in and let him know he’s to be at your disposal for the remainder of the week and to take you to dinner as well to keep up your strength.”

“Oh, sir, please. That’s not at all necessary. I don’t want to impose, not in the least. In fact, it would be very helpful to have fewer interruptions during the time that I am here. I don’t mind long hours, but they are much more productive if they are distraction-free.”

Mr. Langston looks skeptical, but I hope I can sway him to my side on this.

“I promise not to work through dinner. Will that make you feel better?”

He pauses, fingers hovering above the intercom on the phone. “It would make me feel better. Though I’m sure Brooks would be happy to take you out. Did you enjoy the live music last night?”

“It was wonderful.” Technically, that part’s not a lie; the music was amazing. Sparing no positive detail, I share the events of the previous evening—the music, the atmosphere, the unbelievable dessert. I just pass right over the not-so-great stuff. I’m not really out to get Brooks in trouble with his daddy. I just want him to leave me alone. “Sir, I promise to bring in lunch and leave by seven each night. I want to get this initial step done as much as you do, and that uninterrupted time will really go a long way. I have a few things stashed in the fridge at my firm’s apartment for dinner, so I’ll be fine.” Fingers and knees crossed, I stop just short of crossing my eyes for luck when my comment to Gavin earlier about this job making my eyes cross pops into my head. I thought he was going to devour me right there on the sidewalk outside the building.

“All right then.” Mr. Langston puts down the phone and stands, his chair gliding out behind him at the movement. “Let’s go lay down the law that you’re not to be disturbed and that your conference room is off-limits for the remainder of the week.”

The dapper gentleman sweeps me out of his office, and I head straight to my temporary space. Brooks, of course, pops out of his office with his lips pressed in a thin line, his gaze bouncing back and forth between his father and me.

Before I enter my new sanctuary, I thrust my hand out, giving Mr. Langston a warm handshake, a sincere smile stretched across my features. “Thank you so much for taking the time to listen, sir. I appreciate your understanding and support.” Straightening my spine, I step out of the hallway and let the door fall closed behind me.

But, before it completely shuts, I hear Mr. Langston say, “I heard all about your evening last night. And I’m going to need you to keep your distance from Miss George for the remainder of her time here.”

Smiling to myself, I settle in and pop my earbuds firmly in place. The music motivates me, pushes me. That, combined with no one popping in to chat or check on me, allows me to sift through far more information than I thought I would, and I get in a serious groove of kicking this project’s ass.

I do have to shift my position at the table to better ignore the pouty-faced man-child who has walked past the glass-enclosed room more times than is in any way necessary.

I work straight through lunch, snacking on an apple and some almonds that I grabbed at a bodega on the way in, taking only a handful of breaks to get up and move … run to the restroom and refill my stainless steel water bottle.

By the time seven o’clock hits, I know without an ounce of doubt that I can get this mess organized with some preliminary comparative reports available by the end of the week.

The other truth I hold dear is that Brooks is a hot mess of barely contained nerves. He looked like he could explode at any given moment when he finally left the office at his father’s insistence. A quiet hum has replaced the frantic pace of earlier in the day. Only a handful of people occupy the cubicles, softly lit by the glow of their computers against the darkness beyond the glass windows.

Not wanting to deal with public transportation, I order a cab as I ride the elevator down to the lobby. My heels click and echo off the walls of the empty lobby as I stride through the space, searching the line of cars along the sidewalk.

My heart skips at the sight of long denim-clad legs casually crossed at the ankles, ass leaning against a bright yellow cab, gray beanie pulled down low, covering a mass of golden curls, the bulk of which are tucked safely away in the collar of Gavin’s black leather jacket.

He stands and opens the door of the taxi for me. I duck under his arm and slide across the seat, making room for him.

“How long have you been out here, waiting for me?” I ask, warmth spreading through me as he folds himself in beside me.

“Not long. Ten … maybe fifteen minutes?” He adorably bites his lower lip, his words coming out as a question. “I just couldn’t wait. I want to spend as much time with you as I can before I have to go.”