Holly versus Mr. Ivy by Amanda P. Jones
Chapter 10
Holly
I’d seen him the day before, and he’d seemed fine. I was worried. Not in a I like him and want to see him, so I wonder why he’s not here sort of way. More of a we’re coworkers who may possibly be starting a friendship, so is he going to be okay kind of way.
All right, that was a lie. I was starting to like Rhett, and the fact that I wouldn’t get to see him bummed me out. The arrogant, sexy man was right. Work was better when friends were around, though I loathed admitting it. I wanted to call Rhett friend and coworker. Which was absolutely crazy because he annoyed me to death.
Before work, I called and left him a voicemail asking him if he was doing better and if we were still on for tomorrow’s movie morning. I even offered to drop off chicken noodle soup if he wanted.
He texted an hour later saying he felt much better and that I’d better not use his illness as an excuse to cancel on him. When he’d suggested we get together outside of a work function, I’d immediately panicked for multiple reasons:
- The no-dating policy at work made me worry that if anyone found out about our movie-watching activity, they’d think we’d gone out on a date.
- I wasn’t ready for Rhett to see Mom and ask a million questions about her disease.
- I hadn’t spent time with anyone in a fun, casual way in months. Could I act normal? Would I be scared? Too excited?
- What would I wear? Sweats? Jeans and a nice shirt?
- What if Mom had a bad day? How did I take care of her without Rhett getting in the way—or worse, what if I completely ignored him?
- I honestly could not remember the last time I’d dated or spent time alone with a man I wasn’t related to. What were we supposed to talk about?
See, this was why it was better to keep personal and professional boundaries. Tomorrow, Rhett would find out a whole lot about me, including how pathetic my life was as a caregiver. Already today, I’d cleaned the entire main floor of the house, including vacuuming underneath the couch cushions. Why?
What if Rhett saw that we had crumbs (like normal people) hiding beneath the seats? I’d even wiped down the flat screen tv to ensure optimum viewing without any dust particles getting in the way. I’d organized Mom’s medicine, gone through the pile of junk mail that had sat in the center of the table for the last two months, and opened all the windows (except in Mom’s room) to air out the house.
Basically, I’d stress cleaned because my coworker was coming to my house, which had not seen a guest besides family in months. Really, I should be thanking Rhett for being the catalyst for this chaotic tidying up.
Satisfied all the surfaces were spotless and Rhett wouldn’t think we lived in a barn, I showered and got ready for work. I really hoped Rhett was back today. Bubbles were bouncing around my stomach at the thought of seeing him again. The physical giddiness was foreign in my body. When was the last time I had even thought of a man besides the dreamy ones I read about?
Rhett’s truck was in the restaurant’s back lot when I pulled in. I parked next to him, excited that he had come in today. It was stupid. As a grown woman, I shouldn’t be so giddy about a coworker doing his job. I needed to focus on my own—not him.
Once inside the restaurant, I dropped my purse and jacket off in my office before going to say hello to Rhett. We had gotten in the habit of alerting each other when we arrived.
I rapped my knuckles on Rhett’s doorframe. “Hey. Good to see you back. Are you feeling better?”
He stopped typing and faced me. Immediately, I noticed his red, bloodshot eyes and the tightness around his mouth. He forced a smile, the one he’d been using all too often lately. “Much better. I’m sure I’ll be one-hundred-percent by tomorrow.”
Rhett just lied. To my face. I blinked as I battled my old self—the version who would have taken his word for it and gone back to my office. But I was a new woman, and I legitimately cared about this man. My feet decided for me and walked me to the leather chair across from Rhett. I sat, tilting my head as I continued to study his face.
Rhett’s gaze stayed on me. He’d followed my movements as I’d come into his office, making myself comfortable.
“What?” he asked as I just stared at him, trying to figure out what ailed Rhett.
“Would you answer a few questions for me?”
His brows furrowed for a moment. “Possibly. What’s your question?”
I circled a finger over my face, then pointed to Rhett. “What’s going on with you? I know we haven’t known one another long, but I can sense something is off. Your eyes are red too.” I wasn’t great at reading emotions, but for how often I’d stolen glances at Rhett over the last month we’d worked together, I was starting to be able to read his.
Rhett frowned. “I thought you liked to keep work and home life separate.”
I did. Until Rhett came along. I just hoped as we became friends, the staff wouldn’t think something else was going on between us—and that I wouldn’t lose Rhett’s respect. “With my employees, I do. But I think you’re on to something about us opening up to one another. Working with friends is…nice.”
Rhett tucked his lips in between his teeth, no doubt keeping a gleeful I told you so grin in check. “You’re officially asking me to be your friend, then?”
I sighed dramatically. “You kind of wormed your way in. Which is what you had planned all along”—I pointed at his face—“so stop smiling like that, because this is the only chance I’m offering.”
He rubbed his palm over his mouth. “May I call you Holly now?”
He really didn’t like saying Chef. “When we’re around employees, I’d prefer you still use Chef. But otherwise, yes, you may call me Holly.”
He eyed me. “And you’ll call me Rhett?”
I worried I’d like the way his name sounded on my tongue, but I’d concede to his wishes anyway. “Only when no one else is around. I want to maintain that boundary.” I pointed at the door. “I know our new plan makes things a little less formal, but I’d feel better keeping that line in place.” I’d worked on being more complimentary with my staff, but I wouldn’t repeat my mistakes from the past. Happy Holly, who didn’t know how to lead, was gone forever. I was trying to figure out a balance between friendly and authoritative.
He nodded. “You’ve got a deal.”
“So, my question?” I quirked a brow.
He rubbed the side of his neck. A shadow passed over his features, darkening his brown eyes from mocha to black coffee. “This is a bad time of year for me.”
That was vague…“Why is it a bad time?”
He harrumphed. “You know, maybe being friends with you isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
I wagged a finger at him. “Too late. Spill it.”
He leaned his elbows on his desk, placing his head in his hands. I barely heard him speak. “My grandpa died two years ago in October, so I usually miss him more around this time of year. And then yesterday my best friend, Jack, shared some devastating news with me. I wasn’t quite physically ill. I needed more of a mental break. Did everything run okay without me here?”
Whoa. That was not what I’d expected. Woman troubles, or maybe some family dispute, sure, but not this. I walked around his desk and placed my hand on his shoulder. His firm shoulder. Warmth seeped into my palm where it touched him. “There were a few minor hiccups, but it was fine,” I said. “I’m sorry to hear about your grandpa and your friend. How can I help?”
He lifted his head and peered at me. “I’m not sure. Our movie marathon tomorrow will take my mind off things for a bit.”
Was that why Rhett had pushed it so much the other day? Because he needed this? Well, if I hadn’t already been starting to like Rhett, this moment right here just sealed the deal. My heart tugged in sympathy. And I found Rhett more attractive because he not only understood his own feelings, but spoke about them. He didn’t hide behind them or bury them under some half-baked excuse. Ugh. Why did he have to be so amazing? It was annoying that someone could be so attractive and have such a soft side. No wonder women fawned over him like he was Aquaman.
I steeled myself to admit, “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. The pain never goes away; you just learn to live with it.” I removed my hand, which lingered a ridiculously long time on his wide shoulder, and moved to the side of his desk. “I’m glad our time tomorrow will help. Anything I can do right now? I can whip up some hot chocolate or a batch of cookies.” Any time I had a bad day at school or issues with female problems, Mom’s solution had been to offer chocolate in one form or another. I was happy to pass along the tradition to help a friendin need.
Rhett glanced at the clock hanging on the wall to his left. “You’d risk cooking for me this close to everyone else arriving? What happened to those boundaries?”
I fisted my hands, placing them on my narrow hips. “Do you want anything or not?”
He smiled. “Of course I want something you made. Have you met yourself? You’re a master in the kitchen. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with possibly being caught, then having to explain yourself to your staff.”
His compliment warmed my core. I held up a finger. “Ah. But no one has to know I made them especially for you. Who’s to say I wasn’t also craving something sweet? Hmm? Anthony may own this building, but that is my kitchen. If I want to make something before we have to start on dinner prep, it’s my call.”
“Going rogue after one conversation.” His smile hinted at pride. “I like it.”
Dang it. So did I. If only because of that look Rhett was giving me. The way his eyes gleamed, his lips pulled up into a slight smolder. My stomach swirled like someone was spinning cotton candy around in there. “Pick your poison, Rhett. Cookies or hot chocolate?”
“If I do what you tell me to, can we work together to make both?”
I grinned. Boss Rhett around? Abso-freakin-lutely. “I won’t treat you any differently than one of my employees,” I warned. “Do you understand?” Could I be nicer to Rhett? Sure. I didn’t even know if he could bake—and, admittedly, I cooked way better than I baked—but if he wanted both treats, we had to hurry, which meant all work and no play until the time came to make ourselves sick with a sugar overdose.
Rhett stood and saluted me. “Yes, Chef.”
“Music to my ears.” I walked out of his office, motioning for him to follow me. “Let’s go.”