Grace (The ‘Hello’ series)

6. Chapter 6

six

W e eat our small carpaccio salads in silence. My mind is a mess. I wonder if Bash was right, if I’m only here because his dad has taken pity on me. Stacy clearly wants me gone, but Mr. Brooks was direct about my taking over her position, and that can’t be just because he feels bad for me. Not after what he said about needing professionalism in the office. And then we have his taste in porn…

“Have you found someone to help rent the apartment?” Mr. Brooks asks, catching me off guard.

My brows draw together as I take the last bite of my salad and move to the next bag. My stomach is still rumbling since I forgot to have breakfast this morning.

“Should we be talking about this?” I ask while opening the container. The scents of steak and sweet potato tickle my nose.

A dark chuckle lures my gaze up.

“Big lunch,” he jokes, and all that goes through my mind is ‘big guy’.

He is big. So much bigger than Bash, and the porn I’ve watched thanks to him teases my mind until I bite my tongue. “Too much?” I finally manage to ask.

He shakes his head as he grabs his steak and fries. “Food can never be too much.” As he bends down to take a bite, his eyes snap to mine. A grin tugs on his lips before they part, and heat rises to my cheeks. “Do you agree?”

I shift in my seat as my stomach tightens. “That’s true,” I say.“So, the apartment,” he continues, a slight lift in his eyebrow.

“I’ve found someone for the room. Her name is Ashley.”

He hums and takes another bite. “With your new pay, you wouldn’t have needed a roommate.”I swallow thickly as he pushes the boundaries on professionalism. I’m not sure what to think of it. Is it just because this is our lunch break and he’s curious or something else? The heat inside me won’t simmer. I think it’s fine, but I know better.

There are basic rules for living an easy life—don’t get too involved with the boss, don’t reconnect with exes in any way, hold on to close friends, leave work at work and home at home. This conversation feels like a violation to all but one of those rules.

“Nothing to worry about, Mr. Brooks,” I assure. “Ashley’s a good person, and having her will allow me to save more.”

“Daniel,” he says, and I pause with my sweet potato fry dipped in the truffle sauce.

“I–I… Why?” I ask, dumbfounded.

He shrugs. “Why not?”

“Because you’re my boss.” I pause as he stares at me, leaning back in his chair as he gently wipes the corners of his mouth with a paper napkin.

“And my ex’s dad.” I sigh, and my shoulders slump as I say it. But his gaze darkens and his jaw tenses until I wonder if I should’ve said it at all.

“You don’t have to remind me who you’ve been with.” His voice is dark and low, forcing goosebumps to rise on my freckled skin.

His leather chair rolls back as he pushes himself to his feet. His frame is large enough to tower over me, even with a desk between us.

My hand shakes as I stare at the wooden desk, following the grain with my eyes to distract myself from what’s to come. Now’s when he tells me to leave. I keep pushing too far. When will I learn to be silent and obey… or stand up for myself and force a boundary?

“Look at me,” he snaps, and my eyes flick to his. “Listen carefully, Grace,” he starts, and my heart races in my chest. “I know my son and I know I shouldn’t say this, but you never should’ve been with him.”

His words hit me, carving themselves inside me. When his eyebrow lifts, I realize he’s waiting for an answer. “You shouldn’t say that. You’re his dad.”

“Oh, darling,” he muses. “I can say whatever I want.”

I gape at him, unsure what my next words should be. He grazes his hands over his tailored suit and slowly sits down to take another bite of his steak.

Darling…

What does he mean by that? Or am I searching for something again?

I must be reaching. It’s just because I’m upset about everything with Bash. It’s just because of that stupid tab on Mr. Brooks’s computer, the one that must be a test to see if I’ll pry. I’m still in my probation period, after all. He’s being nice, and I’m reading too much into it… unless…

Blinking away my thought, I slide the sweet potato in my mouth. The taste of the truffe sauce tickles my tongue, and the sweetness of the fry adds to it perfectly.

“You have good taste in food,” Mr. Brooks says, finally cutting through the silence.

“If you want, I can make you something—for lunch,” I say and immediately wish I hadn’t said anything. But there’s a moment where I feel worthy, at peace with myself, and that’s when I cook.

“Make me something?” he parrots.

“Anything you like,” I say, a smile tugging on my lips as he stares at me.

His brows twitch as he tilts his head. “Why?”

“As a thank you.” I’m grateful for his help, because that’s what this is. He’s helping me out, because… well, he must know.

A playful glint fills his eyes, softening them, and this warmth spreads from the expression. “If I can choose anything , then…” He pauses, a soft breath falls from his lips, and it almost seems like he’s hesitant with his next words. “It’s something my mother used to make.”

“Okay, and what was it?”

“Nothing fancy. It’s Dutch sauerkraut and potatoes, with sauerkraut bacon and normal pieces of bacon, and sausage, of course. I’m probably saying it all wrong, but I do know that it took hours to make.”

The way he speaks, the little smiles with some of the words, draws me in closer. I can tell this isn’t something he shares easily. Sebastian always spoke about the restaurants he loved, always fancy food, never something like this.

“I can give it a try,” I say.

He sighs, his shoulders dropping slightly as he cuts another piece off his steak. “You don’t have to.”

“But I want to,” I say quickly.

His eyes flick up and I hold his stare. “Okay, but it has…”

I smile. “The sauerkraut and the bacon have to simmer together for hours?” I ask.

His gaze narrows. “Not the normal bacon, the other one,” he adds, and I giggle.

“I think I can handle all the bacon options,” I say lightly.

“I’m sure you can handle plenty,” he says in a lower, huskier voice, his eyes darkening, and a teasing shiver runs over my skin. “Such a shame I can’t be there to see it.”

Even though I’m not sure he’s talking about my cooking, that’s what I decide to go with. I shift in my seat. “I love cooking. Taking separate ingredients that are nothing on their own and bringing them together to create something entirely new feels like magic. I’ve loved cooking since I was a kid. My mom couldn’t do anything to keep me out of the kitchen.”

“You were that precocious?” Mr. Brooks asks with warm eyes.

“I’m still that determined, but back then, not even the threat of the wooden spoon was enough to keep me away. I can’t remember how many times I was swatted before my mom gave up and let me help.” I smile at the memory.

Mr. Brooks is silent as we stare at each other, then he takes a bite and I refocus on my own food, embarrassed that I shared so much. I don’t apologize this time, though. I just sit there, eating my food slowly.

“Grace…” he starts.

I gaze up at him and feel the breath leave my lungs. No one has ever looked at me with the intensity in his gaze. It’s like he’s about to destroy me or bring me back to life, and heat coils between my legs. My thighs squeeze together and my heart beats in overtime.

Is he going to put me on his desk like in the porn? Oh, damn, why is my mind going there?

“Did you see—” His words are interrupted by his phone ringing.

We both gaze at it, and he settles into his seat, the heat and desire in his eyes dropping down to something that lets me breathe.

I start gathering my things. “I think lunch is over.”

“For today. I’m looking forward to your take on my current favorite meal.”

“Any desert?” I ask quickly, avoiding his gaze as he holds his phone.

He makes a low sound, almost a grunt. “That’s a discussion for later. I have to take this.”

I nod as he takes the call, and I head to my desk with the remains of my meal. I’m not hungry anymore. Something zings through my body, something hot and needy, but it’s definitely not hunger. I can’t place it, and I’m not sure I want to.

As I take my seat, the sound of heals clicking heavily on the marble floor draws my gaze up. My face falls as I meet Stacy’s stare.

The corners of her lips are tugging down, and her stare sharpens. “You’re still sitting here?”

“Yes,” I say, then glance through the now open blinds to Mr. Brooks. “I have some things to take care of.”

She shakes her head. “Namely, the reports you didn’t send me this morning,” she hisses. “How many times do I have to cover your ass? If you can’t do the job, then just—”

My forehead creases. “I already sent them and had them approved this morning,” I say, before I realize I cut her off. I clear my throat. “Mr. Brooks has me working on something.”

She rests back with a huff. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she sneers. “He would never—”

The door behind her swings open and his large frame steps out. Mr. Brooks’s voice cuts through the air. “Ms. Castain, we need to have a talk.”

Her cheeks heat and she shoots me a glare, then she obediently walks into Mr. Brooks’s office. I slump into the safety of my chair and set up my computer to get back to work.

I have new forms to fill out for my promotion, an NDA to sign, and a whole packet to get through along with the work I was supposed to do earlier.

As the other employees filter back from their lunch, Ms. Castain sneaks out of Mr. Brook’s office, her head low as she walks past me without a single glance.

I lean forward as she has left the door open, and my eyes catch Mr. Brooks’s.

A soft smile plays on his lips and a quick wink follows. With a single blink, I’m tilting back in my chair as heat runs to my cheeks.

Maybe I can make this job work, after all.