Conflict of Interest (Employee Relations Book 1) (19 page)

The door to my office slams shuts.

“What’s with all the pink sticky notes?” The aggravation in Lucas’s voice is like music to my ears.

Nearly two and a half weeks of Lucas avoiding me, ignoring me at all costs, and I finally get a response. Ha, I bet he’s just pissed that I was in his pristine office. Serves him right. He had his battle axe of an admin officially remove me from his staff meetings the day after his tutorial in email. I tried to talk to him about it, but he hasn’t given me the chance in person and he hasn’t responded to my emails…shocker.

John, one of his strongest staff members, forwarded me the invite when I didn’t show up. I celebrated for all of five seconds, until I noted the time of the meeting. Why? It had already started. After rushing to the conference room, I waltzed in expecting him to kick me out. Part of me hoped he would so everyone would see him for who he really was. It was like he sensed me because he never looked up. All he said was, “You’re late.”

Prick
.

Things between us have
gone from bad to worse, which is why I’m so surprised he’s standing here in my office.

“I needed to give you a few updates,” I shrug, saving the document I’ve been working on before meeting his gaze. “You’re hardly around and don’t respond to my texts or emails. If you’d prefer some other form of communication, say singing telegrams, I’ll consider it.” I add a saccharine sweet smile for show.

“Gabriella,” he warns, tossing the stack of pink notes on my desk.

Maybe I went a tad overboard.

“Gabby,” I interject, correcting him for the hundredth time. And just like every other time, he ignores me.

It amazes me that he’s gotten this far in his career. The man’s smart and a hard worker, I’ll give him that. He’s in the office most days by 7AM, and even when I stay until 8PM, he’s still at his desk. He’s also captivating to watch whether he’s presenting or just taking part in a meeting. I could learn so much from him if he’d just play nice.

What’s interesting is that he denies he needs my help, yet he takes my advice. He’s adopted the communication cadence I recommended when we first met and he’s actually engaging with his team. The only person he won’t engage with is me.

Well, unless you count the flowers that showed up on my desk the day after I kindly reminded him it was Administrative Professional’s Day. The note that accompanied them read:
Reminding others to celebrate you is tacky. PS
—
I need a notebook.
It wasn’t signed with his name. It didn’t need to be. His admin had an identical bouquet.

Oh, and let’s not forget how he stormed into my office after a disgruntled employee got loud with me. I’m not going to lie; I was thankful for the interruption—the guy is huge. But then Lucas drove me home and had the nerve to interrogate me about a bruise. Like he would actually care if he knew where it came from. He’s been incognito ever since, though I’ve noticed security has been making extra rounds at night.

The man’s a walking contradiction.

I can’t figure him out. When he’s not slamming them in my face, he’s holding doors open for me. He’s charismatic and truly impressive to watch in meetings, yet has this cold demeanor. His interactions with others are a bit formal, but nothing like how he interacts with me, and yet I’ve seen evidence that there’s a kinder person underneath it all. So what the hell is his deal?

His eyes close as he begins massaging his temples with one hand. The other is balled up at his side. Even when he’s pissed at me I can’t deny how attractive he is. “I told you—”

“You’ve got this. I remember.” I step around to the front of my desk and sit on the edge, crossing my ankles. “Except I’m not convinced that you actually do.”

Lucas recoils at my statement, and if I’m not mistaken he appears anxious. It’s hard to tell since the emotion is erased as quickly as it came, and replaced with a glacial stare. He’s completely fooled everyone else, manipulating them with his interna
tional twang and good looks, but I’m not falling for it, and though I’ve heard nothing but rave reviews about him from Jack and a handful of his staff, I’m not about to let him call my bluff.

He closes the gap between us, rolling his sleeves up to the elbow as he stalks toward me like a predator. He leans forward placing his hands on either side of my hips, gripping the edge of my desk and effectively boxing me in. My stomach is twisting in knots. His breath is warm on my neck, causing chills to spread across my skin. I cross my legs tighter to prevent myself from doing the opposite. It’s ridiculous how badly I want to turn into him to find out if he tastes as good as I imagine.

Speaking of contradictions, it would appear that my brain and body are no longer attached.

“Lucky for me, you’re not on the list of people I need to convince.”

Lingering seconds past his declaration is almost my undoing. Why does he have to smell so damn good?
Because he’s an asshole whose mission is to make my life miserable.
Trying to mask his effect on me, I clear my throat and he finally straightens, though he’s still invading my space. Clenching his jaw, he smoothes his tie against his chest. I’m not quite sure whether it’s good or bad, but I’m obviously having an effect on him too. Likely not the same one but that’s beside the point.

Kill him with kindness. Kill him with kindness.

I repeat this mantra over and over until I feel grounded. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where I sit.”

I push off my desk and circle back to my seat before I act on my impulse to kiss or choke the shit out of him.
What on earth does Jack see in him?
His presence, pacing back and forth in front of the door catches my attention.

“Was there something else that you needed?” I ask sweetly.

He eyes me apprehensively. “What was it that you wanted to tell me, Gabriella?”

“Are you asking for help, Lukie?”

He balks at his nickname before that impassive mask is back in full force. “What? No.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” I continue smiling and bat my eyes for effect.

Read your email, jackass…and have a nice weekend.

Frustrated, I get back to work. Around seven o’clock, Lucas’s door shuts. I glance up and watch as he pauses ever so briefly in front of my door, his eyes fixated on the carpet under his feet. He must decide whatever he was contemplating saying or doing wasn’t worth it because he’s was gone before I can ask him if he needs anything. What did I expect him to say, anyway? The man despises me and seems incapable of accepting help. And even though I wanted to deny it, I’m still desperate for him to let me in. I’m a nurturer to a fault.

Annoyed with myself for caring too much, I pack up my own things and text Summer and Kyra. A night out with my girls is exactly what I need.

“Why did I let you drag me to this?” I pout, all the blood rushing to my pounding head.

Summer gracefully slides from downward dog into cobra. I, on the other hand, nearly face plant. She’s has always been into yoga—me and Kyra, not so much. I’m more of a runner than a group exercise sort of person, which is evident by how my body currently resembles a human pretzel.