Into You Series: The Complete Collection

24. Grace

CHAPTER 24

GRACE

“ T his is missing something, and we all know it,” Cameron says, tapping his pencil in the palm of his hand in irritation.

He paces the front of the conference room, and nobody speaks. If they do, it’s just mumbling. We’ve come so far, and yet we’re still not close to the solution.

“What if we moved that element slightly to the left?” I suggest without raising my hand.

He doesn’t make eye contact with me, but instead paces to the laptop and clicks to adjust it. The change is projected on the screen. The design looks worse.

I don’t even know what I’m saying. I just want an excuse to talk to him, but we haven’t spoken since last Thursday, and I’m dying inside. It doesn’t help that he’s getting more serious, which is totally hot and driving me insane. I’m just a helpless fool trying my best to focus on the project at hand.

I don’t know why I’m nervous.

Nothing happened last week. We leaned in, he accidentally touched my neck, we were mean to each other … pretty much the usual.

So why did it feel so wrong?

I thought about it every waking—and sleeping—moment this weekend.

Our touch, the feeling, the rush … the knowledge that if I wanted to ruin my life, he would be the way to go. That sobers me up real quick.

“I like it,” Mr. Feldman says from the corner, looking up from his laptop before shooting his eyes back down.

He never comes into the office, but it’s getting close to crunch time, and everyone can feel it. I almost wonder if he’s supervising us. It makes me uneasy; sometimes Mr. Feldman looks at me then types faster.

Once the meeting’s over, I return to my desk and work in the corner for the rest of the day. I get up once to retrieve Hank and come back, but I’m so zoned in to work that I don’t even consider taking more breaks. I feel like a zombie and trying not to glance at Cameron in his office is taking more brain power than I’d like.

I’ve been coasting for a while when a paper ball hits me on my head, bouncing off my haphazard bun.

I lean to the side to look around my monitor—which I’d purposefully placed in front of me to resist looking toward Cameron’s office—and find the man himself walking down the aisle, a steaming mug in each hand.

He takes a sip from one and places the other on my desk.

“For you.”

“Well aren’t you nice,” I say.

I can feel the electricity running between us. It’s almost palpable, and I’m unsure if coffee is something I should even be touching at this point. I take a sip and instantly know I’m right. That caffeine is no laughing matter.

“Wow,” I laugh, smacking my lips and taking in the bitter taste. “Expecting me to stay even later?”

What an unfortunate question; he smirks when I say it.

“Why, are you planning on leaving soon?” he asks, gesturing toward my desk with his mug.

I need to stay late at work again just as much as I need a nail in the head.

“Don’t you know I live here, Cameron?”

Cameron hops up on the empty desk across from me, cupping both hands around his mug and smiling. The cuffs of his black pants rise to expose socks I haven’t seen before.

Orange with giraffes.

“Hey, my favorite,” I say, pointing to them. I try to remain casual about it, but I wonder if he wore them for me. He knows they’re my favorite animal. “Those are the best socks so far.”

Cameron looks down and chuckles. “Last week you said the toucans were your favorites.”

“I think I was just craving fruity cereal then,” I say, staring up at the ceiling to give off the impression of wistful daydreaming. “Oh, sugary cereal … wherefore art thou, sugary cereal?”

Hank settles his head on my lap with a small whine. I look up at Cameron and let out an exhausted sigh. “I might go for a walk. Hank seems restless.”

Cameron smiles. “I’ll go with you.”

He lets out a swift whistle and around the corner comes Buddy, his nails tapping on the concrete as he bowls into Cameron’s legs and almost knocks him off balance.

“Oof! Watch it, Bud!” he says, scratching the dog’s ears and shuffling past him to grab the leash from his office.

I catch a glance of him walking away and, holy cannoli, those pants fit snug against his toned butt and … I need to pull it together.

I clip Hank’s leash on his collar and walk him through the back door while Cameron tries to get Buddy to calm down long enough to clip his.

“Sit, Buddy!” The dog’s entire behind continues to wag until Cameron says again, “Sit!”

This time it’s got some force behind it, and the dog’s butt slams on the ground faster than Cameron can even finish the word.

Bow wow.

I open the door and feel a rush of the wind.

Good lord, yes, please bring on the fresh air.

Cameron catches up and Buddy attempts to take the lead. Cameron runs his free hand across his chin, combing out his small beard.

“Is it getting too long?” he asks.

“The beard? Nah—but are you going for the Sasquatch look?”

“Haha. Funny,” he deadpans, knocking into me with his arm.

He’s only teasing, and it barely nudges my shoulder, but with biceps like his, I know he’s capable of pushing much harder.

Nope. Stop the intrusive thoughts, lady.

The dogs guide us around the building to the open sidewalks that form a circuit around the office space.

“So, how’s the hotel going?” I ask.

“What hotel?”

“Come on, the hotel!” I say, emphasizing the term as if it’s the only hotel that could possibly exist in this world. “The sketches in your apartment? With the parking lot and the lobby and all that?” I wave my hands around motioning to an invisible building, pointing at each part. “Please tell me you’re working on it. I’d love to see it.”

He winces. “I can’t just make a hotel pop out of thin air.”

“You can do whatever you want to do,” I say with a definitive nod. Hank gallops to me with a stick in his mouth for me to throw. “See? Hank is eleven, and if he can get up and start the day with a stick in his mouth, then why can’t you?”

“I don’t want to wake up with anything long in my mouth.”

“That’s not the point,” I say, “You could do it if you want to. We work for a marketing firm. With clients. And connections.”

“Yeah, that’s called breaking the non-compete agreement we all signed on our first day,” he says, his arm tightening up to hold Buddy back once he eyes a squirrel on the opposite sidewalk.

“No, it’s not,” I say. I may not know much, but I was given nothing but the new hire paperwork for my first two days, and I didn’t have much else to do. “You haven’t read it in years. I read it two months ago. You’re not selling marketing secrets or starting your own marketing firm.” I nudge him on the arm. “You’re an architect.”

“I’m a designer,” he emphasizes, nudging me back.

“A designer of buildings,” I say.

Cameron just rolls his eyes with a smile and keeps walking.

“It’s just not happening for me. I partied my last year of college, lost my connections I’d built, so I transitioned into graphic design instead. I gave up and I know it.” He shrugs. “I can’t go back.”

I didn’t know he lost connections. Is that what’s holding him back? He’s embarrassed about his old days?

“If I’ve learned anything these couple months,” I say. “It’s that we can’t keep living in the past. The future is all we have.”

He stiffens.

“Yeah, well, maybe all of it just kinda seems useless.”

After a moment of silence, he turns his attention to Buddy and runs, making sure to distract the dog with some play. And no doubt avoid this conversation.

“You’re literally running from the past, Cameron!” I yell over to him.

They both fall on a grassy knoll nearby. I click my tongue toward Hank and we settle down beside the two of them.

The sun is setting, and the sky is full of pinks and purples. The wispy clouds are stretched thin and transparent, allowing what’s left of the sun to shine through. We sit there long enough to watch the star disappear behind the building, prompting the parking lot’s lamps to buzz on.

The whole moment is romantic, and it has no right to be.

I stand and brush off my dress, getting the last of the grass off my behind and the back of my legs. When I finish, I look over and Cameron’s watching me with a grin.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he says.

I take a deep breath and secretly let out an exhale.

If he keeps looking at me like that, then I’m a goner.

We make our way back to the office, and I let Hank off the leash as soon as we’re back inside. He trots back to the comfort of his bed under my desk and Buddy joins him, tuckered out from the walk.

“Oh!” Cameron says, making me jump.

“Yes?” I laugh.

“I need to show you something,” he exclaims. He walks to his office, and I follow.

He’s at his desk, sifting through the papers before finally showing me what he was looking for.

It’s my design, but slightly improved: Completely vectorized with striking colors I had yet to add and a couple additional features that make it pop more. I take the paper from him slowly.

He’d put in the extra work to make it stand out, and it’s even more beautiful than I could have done on my own; it’s a combination of both our talents.

“This is wonderful,” I breathe.

He walks around the desk and stands beside me. I look up at him, our noses inches apart. His deep brown eyes stare back at me. My gaze darts down to his lips.

My heart flutters.

They’re nice butterflies.

Not moths like Joe.

It’s sweet.

Beautiful.

They lift me up and away and into his sweet presence.

I want to lean closer, so I find that I do. I can feel the heat from Cameron’s chest, the energy between us. I can see it in the way his hooded eyes glance over me. I turn my head to the side, our faces only inches apart.

His eyes start to close.

Mine do too.

We’re going to do this.

I’m going to kiss Cameron Kaufman.

But then we hear a bark. Two barks.

Oh no.

Our eyes open and we both jerk away.

I grab a stack of papers on the desk and start to shuffle.

Cameron walks out of his office.

“Hello?” he calls. It’s a few seconds before he speaks once more and I hear him say, “Oh, hi, I’m so sorry.”

Then there’s another voice, much shakier and older. I can’t hear what he’s saying, so I exit the office as well and turn the corner to find a hunched, elderly man in a navy jumpsuit holding a vacuum. I’m fairly sure it’s the only thing keeping him standing.

“Not a problem, Mr. Kaufman. Not a problem,” he says, getting the words out with a struggle. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you this late.”

He seems good-natured enough. Not the kind of man to suspect anything. At least, I hope not.

“Oh!” he says, finally noticing me.

I’m praying he doesn’t see how obviously flustered I am.

Come on, man. Why now? I think, but I should probably be thanking him.

We almost crossed a line.

A very hard line.

“This is one of our designers, Grace. We’re working on a big project,” Cameron says, his tone unwavering. “ A lot of people are staying later. I guess we just lost track of time.”

I look down to my watch and my eyes widen. Nine o’clock. It makes sense that the cleaning crew would come once they were sure everyone was gone. I notice the man now eyeing Hank and Buddy, who are standing in the doorway behind me, their tails wagging.

“That explains the chewed desk legs,” the old man chortles and Cameron good-naturedly laughs back. I even throw in a laugh for good measure. It’s high pitched and awkward.

Probably a bit too much.

“Well, we’ll get out of your hair. We were just heading out,” Cameron says.

The man nods. He must know Cameron well because the boyish smile satisfies his curiosity just fine. He walks into the accounting department, and we start gathering our things, packing our bags, putting the dogs on leashes, all while not saying a single word to each other.

The tension is still there, but it’s waning. I can feel my own heartbeat start to steady, and I can think straight once again. We head out into the parking lot and stop for a moment to look at each other.

What do we even say? He’s looking just as flustered as I am.

He begins walking toward me. I want nothing else than to continue what we started, but …

One time a year ago, I came home from work, exhausted from delivering one cold call after another. All I wanted was to lay next to Joe, exchange massages, and end the night with our clothes off and me yelling passionate profanities. But Joe wasn’t having it. He said he’d had an even busier day than I could even begin to understand, so the last thing he wanted was sex.

I wonder if he ever regrets that day, considering it was the last time we even discussed sex. It was our last chance.

And I wonder if I’ll regret making the same decision now.

“I should go,” I say, and Cameron almost skids to a halt right in front of me.

I’m making the right choice, so why does it feel so wrong?

Cameron stares at me for a moment, looks to the ground and nods, then smiles at me. “That’s a good call. I’ll see you tomorrow, Holmes.”

I get into my car, and Hank settles in the back. He lays down to fall back asleep, and I stare out at the parking lot and watch Cameron drive off. My heart is pounding and my legs feel like spaghetti. Just noodly limbs attached to meat.

I almost kissed my boss tonight.

What was I thinking?

Hank and I make it back to the apartment after I took way too much time to find a parking spot in the back of my complex’s lot so my bright yellow bug wouldn’t be noticeable.

My mind won’t stop racing, and the only thing that distracts me is Hank, looking miserable while he tries to settle in again. He’s an old dog, but he’s not normally this morose. I bend down to pet him.

We had a long day. But why do I feel like the days are only about to get longer?