Into You Series: The Complete Collection

30. Nia

CHAPTER 30

NIA

Three years ago

“ S o, we just left.”

“You left?”

If I had to pick one thing I dislike the most about Ian—which includes various things—I would say his stupid I was a total badass in my twenties stories take the cake.

“At least you’re a better person now,” Cameron says with a chuckle, scribbling on his tablet as he leans back in his chair.

“Maybe. But, yeah, no tip,” he says, as if dining and dashing isn’t one of cruelest things you can do to someone in the service industry. “Nothing.”

“Okay, I’m done with your ridiculous showboating today.” I exhale and go back to typing. Ian sits across from me, his laptop resting on his thigh with his ankle crossed over his other knee. Cameron is in the chair next to him, engrossed in his design work. The chairs are the white standard ones awarded to the staff members with an office. I tried to decorate my space by hanging some canvas paintings of oceans. They’re supposedly meant to calm people, though with the number of irate employees who storm into my office, I’m realizing their effect is more for me than the people complaining about the food on snack Fridays.

“Why do you hate me so?” Ian asks, adjusting his posture and grinning. It’s that same charming grin that puts his gorgeously straight teeth on display. I’d be lying if I said my chest didn’t flutter at the sight of it. After years of enduring his smiles, you would think the emotions would fly away just as quickly as they appeared, but nope, not a chance.

“Because you’re infuriating,” I say.

“Was,” Cameron says without looking up. “He was a horrible person.” He blindly reaches to pinch Ian’s cheeks, and the grin widens. Cameron twirls his pen between his fingers and clicks the lock button on his tablet. “So, are we in detention? Because it sure feels like it.”

The two men have been in my office for approximately an hour and have accomplished nothing. I hadn’t even noticed until Ian’s stories became more and more ridiculous as time rolled on.

“I wanted your opinion on the new company handbook considering you’re fairly tenured employees. Plus”—I point my finger at Ian—“the lawyer is nice to have.”

“Oh, so now I’m nice to have?” Ian settles into his chair and closes his laptop. I swear, this man is testing my patience.

“Is that why we’ve gotten nothing done?” Cameron says. He’s smiling at me. In the course of only a couple years, I’m already suspicious of Cameron Kaufman. He’s starting to learn how to push my buttons almost as well as Ian. But, despite his cocky nature, he’s supposedly a talented junior designer, so at least he’s adding value. His potential promotion to become creative director has come down the pipeline more than once.

“You and I can sit down alone,” Ian suggests, and even though he appears indifferent, I can tell he’s trying to conceal a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.

I can’t count on one hand, two hands, or even all ten of my toes how many times he’s tried to conceal his challenge of authority. He knows he’s defying every employee handbook published since his arrival, as this would surely qualify as workplace harassment if I wanted to twist it as such . I wrote that damn handbook.

Even so, it’s hard for me to give him a write-up because, if I’m being honest with myself, those twisted smirks improve my afternoons more than I’d like to admit. Ian makes me feel wanted—something I never feel in my life outside of work—and it’s harmless enough for me to pretend no lines are being crossed.

Sometimes, I’m a bit ashamed I let this kind of thing slide, but then I see his grin and my guilt very discreetly melts away. Nothing will ever happen. I can banter with him if I like, right?

“I like employee input,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “That’s why it’s necessary for Cameron to be here.”

In fact, employee input has zero effect on the creation of this document. There is absolutely nothing Cameron could say that would change my dress code policies or the laws impacting employee termination and due process, but I’m logical enough to know there needs to be a buffer between Ian and me.

Cameron lifts his wrist to check the time and pats his knee. “Well, would you look at that, it’s quittin’ time. This was a fun waste of an afternoon. See you tomorrow, bud.” He claps Ian on the shoulder and throws me a wave over his arm.

Ian blows out a low whistle, and I shrug because I can’t think of anything else to do.

“Then there were two,” he says. The statement should be casual, but it sucks the air right out of the room.

I look down to my screen and type out words for an email I will undoubtedly trash later.

After a moment or two of silence, he clears his throat. “We paid, you know.”

“What?” I say, glancing up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“That story—we went back to the restaurant. My friends wanted to experience the whole dine and dash thing, but we definitely went back and paid. I wouldn’t do that.”

The confession drops my stomach and I gulp. He could have touched me and I’m not sure it would have had the same effect. Call me weird, but honesty is more attractive than any other factor. I find myself inhaling slowly and continuing to type.

Harry always says I should be more open, and I know it would make me a much more effective human resources professional. I like to think I roam around the office striking up conversation with enough employees to be relatable, but with Ian, it’s never been as easy for me. I almost want to hate him at this point. It’s comfortable, familiar, and knowing he’s a good guy doesn’t help me accomplish that.

“Why tell lies then?” I ask.

His ice blue eyes stare back at me. They’re shifting down to my lips then up again. I lean back in my chair to put extra distance between us.

He shrugs. “It’s not as much fun when people know I’m actually a decent person.”

“You are the most difficult person I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing,” I say.

“I accept the compliment.”

He grins, and I smile back without my consent.