CHAPTER TEN

Trevor

Damn. I’d come on too strong. Or desperate was more like it. When was the last time I had to work this hard to get a female’s attention? That would be never. Not that I had an inflated ego over the fact, but it was true. So Emma was putting a serious dent in my self-confidence. As I walked back to my apartment after our conversation by the parking lot, I knew, logically, that I needed to leave it alone and stop asking her out. Even as a friend.

Nonlogically, I couldn’t help thinking about all the times I’d catch her eye in the office or that she’d stop typing when she heard me talking. Not that I always had a view of her at her desk, but if my door was open and she was seated at her computer and I leaned about thirty degrees to my right, I did. Jesus. I was pathetic. I needed to accept she simply wasn’t feeling what I was. Period.

I’d have to settle for friendship and hopefully a good working relationship. Easier said than done, though.

The next morning, I showed up bright and early at the office. Simon had taken the day off, but I had a busy agenda researching a company he’d told me about that was a potential for purchase. I needed to put together the presentation and approach. This was my first test, and I had every intention of passing with flying colors.

I was organizing my notes when Emma walked in. She was clearly surprised to see anyone else in the office before she arrived, let alone me.

“What are you doing here so early?”

I gave her a lazy smile. The kind which before she’d come along actually had an effect on a woman. “Working. Simon is off, but I thought I’d get an early start to the day since we’re traveling to New York tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

I could tell she wasn’t thrilled with either idea, me being here or the fact we’d be alone. “I’ll be certain not to bother you.”

 “Okay, then.”

She seemed appeased by my answer.

It wasn’t until after twelve that I saw her again. I’d been knee-deep in my due diligence while trying in vain to get my presentation to print. No dice. Couldn’t find the printer on my computer.

She peeked her head in the door after a curt knock. “Hi.”

I peered up from a contract, the fine print of which would be the death of me. “Hi, yourself.”

“Um, I was heading out to get lunch. Do you want me to get you something?”

I leaned back in my chair, taken aback by her offer. I was in fact starving. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble.” I meant it.

She waved me off. “It’s what I would do for Simon. What do you want?”

“Sandwich with meat of any kind. I’m pretty easy. Just no tomato, please.”

“Easy enough.” She hesitated but then asked, “What are you working on today?”

I was happy she showed interest, especially since Simon had said she was such an asset when it came research. “I’m working on a presentation for a possible new acquisition. I’ll show it to Simon tomorrow on the plane as my first attempt at analysis. You know, whether I think this company would make a good investment or not. Then, we’ll discuss it with Phillip once we’re in his office.”

“What type of company is it?”

“It’s an online gaming company in Houston. They specialize in fantasy sports.”

“Fantasy sports?”

“Yeah, like fantasy football, baseball, basketball. I think they even have hockey.”

“I have no earthly clue what that is.”

Judging from the pink tinge in her face, I guessed the word ‘fantasy’ had her imagination going in the wrong direction. Whatever that was, I wasn’t touching it. Instead, I simply explained. “It’s an app where people sign up to play in a league or team with other people and pick their teams from the best players. They score depending on how the players they picked do in their next real-life game. A lot of sports fanatics love it. I’ve dabbled in fantasy football in college. Baseball, however, takes real commitment given how many games are played.”

“So you’re a sports guy?” she queried, looking surprised the words had exited her mouth.

I chuckled, trying not to read into her curiosity. “Nah. Don’t get me wrong; I enjoy watching, football especially, but I was never one to spend a lot of time in front of a computer for fun.”

I was much more of a hands-on type of guy, whether it was working on my motorcycle or my truck.

“I’d better go grab lunch. Be back in a few.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

I forced myself to shake off the thought that she could be interested in any more than the job and a good working relationship.