Page 2 of All of Him
“I have your assignments for the week, and you can pass this packet to Penny too.”
He handed me two manila folders—one with my name and one with Penny’s. He did this so that he didn’t have to talk to her. It was probably a safe bet too. Claude was a cool enough boss to be told the cucumber hernia story, though I knew he wouldn’twantto hear it.
“Big assignment?” I asked. “You never make me sit.”
Claude shrugged and sat back in his chair. I gave him a minute to take a breath, then let it out, his hope for an easy week deflating along with his chest.
“We have a new guy coming in under me today. I need you to show him the ropes.”
The hottie,I thought but just smiled and nodded in reply.
Whether he was a nonchalant boss or not, I needed toactprofessional. Claude saw right through it.
“Penny told you.”
“Penny says a lot.” I deflected.
Claude raised an eyebrow.
“Take your files and meetNoahin HR after lunch.”
I tapped the folders against my palm, looking for any sign that Claude would stop worrying about what Penny had told me. He wouldn’t—the possibilities were endless.
“Got it,” I answered, standing to leave before he said anything else. One of the wheels fell off the chair, and I accidentally kicked it to the other side of Claude’s office—well, under an old desk. “Sorry about that. But I can handle the new guy.”
“Good.” He smirked, watching me carefully as I headed toward his door. “And, Amanda?” He stopped me.
I turned to look back at him, his amusement at my pink cheeks regarding the new guy evident.
“Just a reminder that we have no rule against dating coworkers here.”
“Awesome,” I sighed under my breath, shutting his door behind me.
Even my boss knew I was perpetually alone.
I got the call from HR immediately after lunch to go pick up Noah. He’d had to do some training during the morning, so I had been able to get ahead on my work to make time for him. After going through the training myself two years before, I knew he’d only be semi-present mentally and probably have a lot of questions. Mostly theshould I just leave nowquestion. While I wished someone had told me yes back then, I had to fake a positive attitude.
The training involved about fifty signatures of selling away your soul and a very vivid sexual harassment seminar. Word on the street was that we had to watch it after a manager had gotten caught banging the CEO’s husband on a conference table. But what did I know?
While we were a casual work environment, I fully anticipated the new guy to be decked out in unnecessary khakis and a tie. He’d probably have a strong handshake and a briefcase, jarred from training but still slightly determined to be something in this godforsaken hellhole.
I wassowrong.
As I approached the lounge area of HR, a slender and casually dressed guy stood there, looking at his shoes anxiously. He would fit in better than I’d thought.
“Hi. I’m Amanda Bette,” I said, walking over to him and waving.
He looked up at me, and time froze, like in one of those awful early 2000s romcoms. He stood there wearing a faded black T-shirt and slightly worn jeans. His gray Converses looked like they’d been to so many places, and his eyes…holy…
Something within me stirred—an unfamiliar part of myself, a curious part. And that part was drawn to those eyes, those beautiful mossy-green eyes. They were framed by thick, dark lashes. But that wasn’t what got me. What got me was the sadness in them, an emptiness I’d never known. I suddenly felt the urge to know everything about this guy. Those eyes hid a story, one I hoped to have the privilege of hearing someday.
And as for someone who could always find humor, I didn’t have a clue how to feel in that moment. Just the way he looked at me pried into the most well-hidden parts of my core.
“I’m Noah,” he said softly, apprehensive. “Noah Murphy.” He ran his fingers through his shaggy brown hair, as if not sure what else to do with them, then tucked his hands into his pockets.
I tried not to notice how loosely his jeans fit over his slender hips. It wasn’t as if he’d bought them too loose, but that he’d been able to fill them out at one point in time. Again, everything in me ached to get to know him, this guy I’d just barely met.
We looked at each other awkwardly—me trying not to drool and him staring back at me, as if to convey that I was supposed to be saying something.
