Page 15 of The Game Changer
“Which is why I was thinking of having Gabe handle the press that day.” Luca leans back in his chair as I blink rapidly, trying to get my brain to catch up to whatever he was talking about while I was daydreaming.
“Right. Yes. I mean, that makes sense,” I say, hoping fervently that whatever I’m agreeing to actually makes sense.
“That way, neither one of us are tied up showing them around,” Luca continues.
Oh.That’s what he’s referring to, the stadium tour we’re arranging for next week when the renovations are complete. Not tying me up. Or us being tied up together. In bed. Oh my God. Nope. Renovations, not bedroom kink.
I clear my throat. “And we’re certain the crews are still on track to finish on time?” My gaze dips, skimming my list of notes in front of me, hoping it distracts my brain from other things. “Last time I was there, it looked like there was quite a bit left to do.”
Luca’s deep chuckle hits my ears. “Yes. I had to convince Dom to let me throw some more money at them, but they assure me next Thursday is their last day. The paint will be dry Friday morning, just in time for us to open the doors to the media. With no more elevator malfunctions.”
I bite my cheek to stop from smiling. “Great.” I glance up and see his storm-grey eyes focused on me. His stare is intense. He looks away the second our gaze meets, butI flush, nonetheless. This isn’t the first time I’ve caught him looking at me like that. It’s never anything more than a look, nothing I would say is disrespectful at all. But every time I catch him, a wave of heat passes over me.
Mentally shaking my head, I reach for the carafe of hot water in the center of the table to refill my cup of tea. I’ve got one of my slightly more expensive tea bags in my mug, which means I can squeeze out a second cup.
Except, instead of the handle of the carafe, my hand brushes against warm, slightly rough skin.
“Oh. Sorry. You first,” I say, snatching my hand away.
His lips quirk up slightly as he hands me the small package in his hand. “I just wanted to offer this instead of what you have there. Gotta keep you caffeinated,” he continues in a teasing tone. “Last thing I want is a repeat of Monday.”
I ignore his outstretched hand and give him a haughty look. “First of all, it was not because I hadn’t drank my tea that I dropped that box of files.”
“Oh, I remember, it was the smooth tile floor that tripped you,” he says, openly laughing now. And I guess I can’t blame him. It wasn’t my best moment, tripping over absolutely nothing and spilling the box of trading card mock-ups I had made. Mock-ups he’ll never see, since Dom insisted they were out of budget.
“Still, making sure my marketing expert has her tea isn’t a bad idea.” He grins, sitting back in his chair, looking every bit the sexy silver fox Juni named him.
“I’m glad you recognize that,” I say with a smile of my own, settling back in my own chair. “Besides, if youremember our very first meeting, it was your fault I dumped tea all over you. You’re the one who tripped over nothing that time.”
I’m expecting him to laugh along with me, not clam up and drop his gaze to the table. An uneasy silence falls, and suddenly I panic that I’ve crossed the professional line and am getting way too comfortable around my boss. I clear my throat and try to redirect the conversation back to where it should be. On work.
“Anyway, let’s circle back to the fundraiser gala.”
“What about your tea?”
I look up to see him still holding out the paper-wrapped packet, an intense expression on his face. I take it, and when I bring it closer, the unmistakable aroma of bergamot fills my nostrils.
“Is this…” I trail off as I unwrap the paper. “Luca.”
“It’s a local tea company that uses all organic and sustainably sourced ingredients. I’ve got a bigger order on hold, if you like it, so there’s enough at the office for you.”
He remembered my rose. My luxury indulgence. More than that, he went to the effort of finding some and getting it for me?
I’m speechless. And confused. Is this a simple, kind gesture, or more? I mentally give my head a shake. This is not the time or place to swoon over tea.
“Thank you. That’s very kind. I hope Dom didn’t give you a hard time about the cost.”
“It didn’t come out of the budget.”
Oh God.He paid for it himself. My cheeks start to heat. I don’t know what to say.
Luca takes the package back from me and opens it. Inside are individual tea bags, and as soon as he takes one out, the bergamot aroma grows deeper. I watch as he places one in my cup and pours hot water over the top before sliding it back toward me.
“Let me know what you think.”
I manage to lift my gaze to meet his and again say a simple yet heartfelt “thank you.”
My head is still spinning as I try to compose myself, shuffling the papers in front of me. I scan my notes, not really reading them. “Did you give any more thought to the charity collaboration I suggested?”
