Chapter Nineteen
It’s A Date
Charlotte spent the afternoon reading by the fire in the library, feeling cozy and comforted, while Jordan worked at the library desk with his laptop. She glanced over to watch him regularly. It was a tiny little desk, more decorative than functional, with a leather inset and curvy carved edges. Jordan loomed over it, as if he were trying to work in a playhouse.
“You sure work hard,” she said, before internally slapping herself for saying something so completely banal.
“It comes with the territory.”
“Does it? It seems like you are working every hour of the day.”
“Most days. Not every day. I’m new. It’s my business—if anyone has to put the extra time in, it has to be me. I think you get better work out of people when they see you are working as hard as you can, as well.”
He shrugged. “George thinks I’m wasting my time. Not by working, he’s a fan of hard work. But the changes I’ve made to the office piss him off. He thinks the mission statement is a waste of time. A lot of the staff do, too. It’s just words, why bother?” He swiped something on his laptop.
She scrunched her eyes shut to keep herself from staring at his broad back and shoulders. “Mission statement, really? Aren’t they a bit... well, always about how we should do our jobs well? As if anyone ever starts work going ‘You know what? I want to do a really bad job!’ Does anyone actually pay attention to things like corporate mission statements? I mean anyone doing real work. I always thought it was just something to keep management busy. You know, the people at the top with not a lot to do?”
“Yep, that’s me.” He was laughing though. “I get that. There’s a lot of bullshit out there. And there’s a lot of distrust for me having gotten a business degree instead of just starting at the bottom and working my way up. But I truly believe a mission statement can be good if it is based on solid information. Not motivational jargon about changing the world and seeking enlightenment, that’s a waste of everyone’s time. But, for example, it’s important that everyone who works for me knows the company doesn’t tolerate bad behavior. We don’t accept that it is ever necessary to treat people badly: not our competitors and not our customers and not our staff. A firm statement means everyone knows where they stand. That offers stability, which leads to loyalty.” He looked embarrassed. “Or I’ve fallen for a lot of new age business bullshit and am wasting everyone’s time.”
“Maybe,” she said. She almost told him about her father and George at that moment, about what had happened and how she just wanted to right that wrong.
As she opened her mouth, he looked at his watch and swore. “Hell, I forgot about the dress!”
This man was the most confusing person she’d ever met. “What dress?”
“Your dress! You need a dress for the party tomorrow night. I’ll call them to send someone round. What’s your size? There’s no time for a proper fitting.”
“Jordan, I have a dress. I brought one for the party.”
“A party dress is not an engagement dress. You need to be the belle of the ball!”
She sighed “No, I need to not be embarrassing. I have a perfectly nice dress—the saleswoman said it was a cocktail dress and just the right thing for an engagement party.”
He groaned. “Yes, for someone else’s engagement party, maybe. But not for your own.”
“No.” She knew it was his weekend and he was happy to buy her clothes—he seemed to know a lot more about women’s clothing than she ever would have guessed—but enough was enough. He was acting as if it were a real engagement, like he had forgotten he’d have to tell everyone was cancelled once she was out of the way. “Jordan, the last thing I need is to try to outshine Lauren at her own party. I’ll wear my dress and it’ll be fine and in a few months, everyone will have forgotten me anyway.”
He opened his mouth to argue and she placed a finger against his lips. It was surprisingly effective at silencing him. The problem was that the feel of his warm lips and breath on her fingers meant she’d completely forgotten what she was going to say.
“I should go and get changed for dinner,” she said, annoyed at how husky her voice sounded.
He reached up and moved her finger from his mouth, almost reluctantly. “I have good news,” he told her. “I’m taking you out tonight. Just the two of us.”
“A date? You are asking me on a date?” As she said the words, she realized he hadn’t asked at all but had simply informed her. To her annoyance, she was still flattered. This was not what she expected of Jordan Lovett, powerhouse workaholic.
He looked a bit embarrassed, which endeared him even further to her. “Well, not really a date-date. I just thought you might appreciate a night away from the family. I booked us a table at Tchaikovsky’s. You’ll love it.”
“Are you sure you don’t have to work?”
“I’ve worked and worked, Charlotte! I’ve read ten damn reports—”
She cut him off. “Out of how many?”
“Woman, give me a break! You are a slave driver.” They both laughed and she conceded.
“Dinner would be lovely,” she said.
“Great, then it’s a date!”
“You said it wasn’t a date.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Men!” She stretched, truly relieved not to have to sit through another long dinner with George Lovett. “Does that mean I can stay in my jeans?” His face fell and she knew that was the wrong thing to say.
“You really can’t go to Tchaikovsky’s in jeans. I’ll be wearing a suit.”
“Right,” she said, trying not to sigh. She thought maybe a night off might include the chance to be a bit more casual—she was happy to go out but was thinking maybe Chipotles or grabbing a pizza somewhere. That was clearly not an option when it came to Jordan. Reason number 117 why a relationship with him would never work out, not that she was counting.
Hopefully it’d just be a nice restaurant and not too upmarket. Maybe she’d get lucky and he just liked dressing up to go to the local burger joint.