Sleet Sugar by S.J. Tilly

CHAPTER EIGHT

IZZY

“I

sabelle, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Dad is, rightfully, worried about me - and possibly my sanity - due to my little outburst.

So I say the first thing I can think of. “There was a bug. On me. A bee. I think.”

Gods of Humiliation and Horror, please come save me.

Dad - now standing - is heading my way, but looking around at the ceiling to see if he can find the nonexistent bee. Like it’s not bad enough to see Zach here, I have to embarrass myself in front of him too. Perfect.

Shit, Zach!

I look down in time to see Zach scoop up the last of my flung folders.

Rising, he steps towards me with a stupidly huge grin on his face. This jackass thinks this is funny?!

“Glad you only threw your folders at me and not your steaming hot coffee.” Zach’s voice is just as gravelly, and sexy, and wonderful, as I remember.

“It’s a latte.”

Wow, Izzy, you moron. It’s a latte. That’s the first thing you say? He doesn’t care.

“What kind?”

Oh? Well. Would you look at that.

“Caramel,” I say, then I bite my lip, knowing he’s thinking the exact same thing I am.

Sugar.

“Hmm… sweet.” Zach smirks, and I don’t know if I want to jump him or punch him.

“I think you must have scared the bee straight out of the office," Dad says, finally giving up on his flying pollinator search.

Zach’s cough sounds suspiciously like a laugh, and - before he can blow our cover - I stick out my hand in an offer to shake.

“It’s great to meet you, Zachary. Sorry again for the… throwing of the folders.” I give him my best innocent smile.

Zach takes my hand in his. “The pleasure’s all mine, Isabelle Thorpe.”

And then he winks. Bastard.

Snatching my folders back from Zach, I turn to my dad. “Sorry, but I gotta run. I have a meeting to prep for.” I feel terrible for lying, but I need to extricate myself from this situation immediately.

“No worries, Peanut.”

Ohmygod, will my embarrassment ever end!

Then my dad pulls me in for a hug, even though both my hands are full, and he kisses the top of my head. The answer is no. No - the embarrassment will not end, and the limit to my mortification does not exist.

“We’re still on for lunch today, right?” Dad’s all smiles and I keep my eyes on him, pretending Zach has disappeared.

“Of course, Daddy. See you later!” I say before spinning around and rushing to the door.

As I’m stepping through the threshold, I hear Zach’s chuckle.