Page 38 of When the Walls Come Down
I was in a mood, but it was hard to deny how sexy she looked in her pencil skirt and white button-up blouse, and fuck if I couldn’t see her heels peeking out from under her desk. I was well aware of proper office etiquette and appropriate behavior, yet I was already fantasizing about throwing everything off one of our desks and—
I interrupted that thought.
Now isn’t the time, Shane.
Casey walked through my door, and luckily, he shut it without me asking him to. Then, in true Casey fashion, he leisurely took a seat in the chair across from me and reclined in it, crossing his legs.
“So, what’s up?” The man acted like nothing was new. Nothing was changing. As if my life weren’t being dicked with in every possible way. Then again, he didn’t know about Maggie and me, only that I’d had a date.
That was a good place to start. I knew him well enough. He was dying to know how my date on Saturday had gone, and I’d bet a shit-ton of money that was the exact reason he’d closed my door.
I was about to test out how good I was at playing him a little.
“I have to admit you were right.”
“God, I never get sick of hearing that from you Warrens. What was I right about this time?” His crooked, goofy smile was almost as big as his inflated head.
“A few things, actually. I needed to get out more. Get a life. Go on a date.”
He wagged his eyebrows. “And how’d that go?”
I wasn’t a greasy slimeball, so I’d spare him the details, but I wanted to give him the gist of the scope of how in-fucking-credible my weekend had been.
“You were right, and I owe Blake for helping me with dinner. The date went great and the rest of the night was—” Careful, Shane. “Memorable.”
“Memorable is good,” he replied. “And?”
“And that’s all I’m saying, but hopefully—pending a few curveballs—I can see things going in a good direction with her.” There. That was vague but all true.
“I know it’s just been one date, but you know your sister. She’s dying to meet her, and from that satisfied grin on your face, I think I’d like to meet the woman who put it there too.”
I’m not sure if it was irony or just the ridiculousness of it all, but I laughed.
“That all said, I have to admit I was in a rut again. But I feel that is changing already. So, if giving me the boot was a fly-or-fall approach to getting me out there, you accomplished that.”
He tipped his curly head. “You’re welcome.”
“And I was even inspired last night and this morning about the new campaign strategy for the cider line.”
“My baby,” he whispered.
“Yeah, I think we market it like we do all the new brews, but with a new more female-focused twist.” It would be perfect, and Vic was already working on a few mockups for the possible packaging I’d given him that morning. “I think I’ll have something to show you in a few days.”
“Good,” he said, truly pleased I was already taking the initiative on his new pet project. His phone chimed and he read the message. “Is that all you need from me right now?”
The fact was I didn’t have a plan yet. What I did know was that I wasn’t leaving, and I wasn’t even considering breaking things off with Maggie. Not after the time we’d shared that weekend. I just had to figure out a way where everyone would come out on top.
One thing at a time though.
Mostly, I wanted Casey to know I was on top of my game—now more than ever—and whatever he and my sister were trying to do for me, they’d already succeeded.
“I just want to say thanks.”
He stood and straightened the chair he’d used. “No problem.”
Oh, there were problems, but I was going to fix them myself.Of all the ways I’d hypothesized how my first day at Bay Brewing would go, running into the man I was kinda-sorta dating, absolutely sleeping with, and maybe-possibly copping some feelings for was never one of those ways.
I’d giggled all three blocks to work after reading Shane’s texts, but I’d decided not to reply until lunch, just to make him sweat.
Little had I known, I’d run into him my first hour on the job.
He’d shaved the scruff and donned yet another pair of tailored slacks, a white shirt, and a thin black tie. I assumed this was the Shane Warren work uniform. If I hadn’t been so utterly shocked to see him walk into the conference room, I would have taken a minute to appraise the goods.
But as it stood, I was awestruck—and beyond confused.
The day had been a whirlwind of introductions, tours, and paperwork overload, so I hadn’t had a chance to really harp on all things Shane. With his office just across the hall, I saw him through the glass windows countless times, but our paths had never crossed again.
