Into You Series: The Complete Collection

17. Grace

CHAPTER 17

GRACE

C ameron and I finish up with lunch and return to the office building. Although he flashes me a knowing smirk before heading off to his closed off office, I’m still reeling from my cleverness.

However, it’s when I get to my desk that every detail from lunch sinks in. I whip out my phone, busting out texts to my mom faster than I thought my fingers were capable of.

Grace: I think I’m friends with my boss.

Grace: The hot one.

Grace: I also think I just blackmailed him. Whoops.

I lock my phone and toss it into my purse, not even wanting to confront the shame that is waiting for me once it rings, which it does in less than five seconds. I flip it over to see my mom calling and I send it to voicemail.

A few minutes later, I’m too curious to not listen to it. I regret this immediately because she pulls every mom card she can muster.

‘Are you nuts?!’

‘How could you risk your job like this?! ’

‘You are being far too cavalier about this role!’

Before she can get more worked up, the voicemail service cuts her off. The last thing I hear is something about our pact to not get involved with boys.

She didn’t need to say that. It’s not like I’m going to hop on Cameron’s desk and pull up my skirt for him.

I shift in my chair, feeling guilty as the image crosses my head. And not because I wouldn’t want to do that.

No, it’s because I do .

The next morning, I’m only there ten minutes before getting called into Cameron’s office.

That must be some kind of record.

His email was titled, “I need to see you at 8:30.”

That was the subject line.

No body to the email at all.

I knew I shouldn’t have blackmailed him.

Oh god, I’m gonna be fired.

I try to shake out my nerves by distracting myself with coffee in the breakroom. I pass by a passive note taped to the fridge asking employees to not eat meals that are not theirs (“ Jerks! Love, Saria ”) before arriving at Cameron’s open office door.

I knock on the door frame. He’s scribbling across a notepad, but looks up and waves me in with— is that a smile ?

“Mr. Feldman’s coming back on site a bit earlier than we anticipated,” Cameron says. “I was hoping the rest of the team would get here early too for a quick brainstorm, but it’s not like they can read my mind.”

“Or maybe they overlooked your early email,” I say, taking a seat on the couch and sipping at my coffee.

“Nah, that one was just for you, early bird. I just felt like bothering you,” he says, smirking.

I feel my face flush. I immediately sip my coffee again. Maybe I can pass it off as the steam from the drink rather than the steam between my thighs.

“You’re doing really well with this whole ‘kindness’ thing,” I say. “You know nobody is watching, right?”

“Don’t push your luck,” he chuckles.

“So, if nobody else is here, why did you call me in?”

“I saw you walk in and took advantage.”

I let out a snort of laughter, spitting into my coffee. “Too early for that kind of talk.”

His smile widens, then fades. He clears his throat and shuffles papers around on his desk. The air in the room changes and I wonder if maybe the vents turned on, but mostly I have a sinking feeling he isn’t in a joking mood this morning.

Even though he was two seconds ago.

“I think we need some rules for being at work,” he says, and I feel like I’m getting reprimanded by a teacher, but I follow along anyway. “I just don’t think that …”

“No, I get it,” I interrupt, hoping to end this awkward conversation as soon as I can. “Amendment number one to our agreement: No inappropriate jokes.”

He gives me a lopsided smile and nods. “You got it.”

I stick out my pinky.

“What?” He raises one eyebrow.

“I’m gonna need some solid evidence of this amendment,” I say, shifting my eyes from his face down to my pinky and back up a couple times. If someone breaks a pinky promise, I’m not sure I’d ever trust them again. I trust these more than handshakes any day. “I promise I’ll be only your employee during working hours. No inappropriate jokes. Let’s go, Kaufman, bring it on in.”

He stands from behind his desk, walks to me, and wraps his pinky around mine.

“Is this the moment when we spit?” he asks.

“Ew, what?”

“In classic movies,” he says, blinking at me. “Come on, they always spit in secret handshakes.”

“I’m gonna have to pass on that suggestion.”

“Your loss,” he says.

It’s then that I notice our pinkies are still entwined, so I break it off. He smiles at me for a moment, then heads back behind his desk.

“Lesson number one for being a good manager,” I say. “Don’t tell your employee you want to spit on her.”

He laughs. “Lesson number one for being a superstar employee: Maybe don’t accuse your boss of wanting to spit on you when it was just a movie reference.”

I grin and he returns the gesture.

“Lesson number two for wonderful managers,” I continue. “Be in a better mood first thing in the morning.”

“Lesson number two for stellar employees: Pick your battles wisely.”

We stare at each other, exchanging glances. Even though there’s a small silence, it’s filled with this … electricity. We’re like fire and ice; with each interaction, more steam erupts.

“Cam, Cam, the man!” Ian busts in the room full-on sitcom style, pushing the door wide open with his foot as he claps his hands together. I jump in my seat. “I have the perfect plan for?—”

“Ian!” Cameron says, his hand to his chest. “Good lord!”

Ian laughs.

“Oh, whoops. Did I interrupt a meeting or something?” he asks, pointing between the two of us.

“No, absolutely not,” Cameron says, a fake optimistic ring to his voice makes me giggle behind my mug. “We were just counting our blessings that our favorite star Ian showed up.”

“Perfect! Here I am!” Ian says, grabbing the chair on the other side of Cameron’s desk and stepping over the side to straddle the seat, letting his arms hang over the back. “So, I’m thinking about Nia, right? And I think maybe for Easter I could get her cat a little bunny headband or?—”

“Sorry,” I interrupt, holding my hand up to stop him mid-sentence. “Should I be hearing this?”

Ian’s eyes pass from mine to Cameron’s and then back and he shrugs. “Why, do you have something against bunny headbands or human resources?” he asks.

“I … well, no. To neither,” I say.

“Ian, I was just telling Grace here that professionalism is key in the office,” Cameron says, his eyes just wide enough that I can see the clear signal for Ian to stop acting like this in front of me. But Ian’s casual nature and the way he shrugs again makes it seem like this is old hat for him.

“Who’s going to sue the lawyer?” he asks, grinning.

“Nia would,” Cameron says. A smirk teases at the edge of his lips, sending a shiver through me that I try to conceal behind my mug.

Ian points his finger accusingly.

Cameron gives the most boyish grin, straightening his back proud and tall. His shirt tightens against his chest when he stretches, accentuating his broad shoulders.

I blow on my coffee to mask my swoon. It’s fun watching him joke around with Ian. I’ve only seen his sense of humor a handful of times, and I revel in seeing it more.

“Okay, fine, Holmes, you know nothing leaves this room, right?” Cameron says, smirking to me.

I swear he gives me a barely noticeable wink as well, but maybe it’s just me being hopeful. Or maybe he had something in his eye.

“Sure thing,” I say.

If this information does leave the room due to my own negligence, and I guarantee it won’t, maybe I’ll get another reprimand from Cameron. We’ll settle this in a duel of words and petty insults.

Is it weird that he’s a little hot when he gets irritated by my big mouth?

Shame on me for wanting to see just how irritated he can be.

And shame on me again for wishing he would take it out on me. Preferably on top of a desk.