8. Wade

While clapping my hands together to fling the excess white chalk from them, I didn't notice the door open and close behind me. I was too focused on getting on the wall, working through the pent-up energy coursing through me, and using the pain to zero in on the things I needed to do.

Like cleaning up my act to get a goddamn investor.

"What… is this?"

Ray stood behind me in neatly pressed black slacks and a black blouse that hugged her frame. She was absolutely going to be covered in chalk by the end of this. "My bouldering gym," I answered, studying the starting holds. If I hold that one with my left hand and this one with my right, put my feet there, and lean right, I could hoist myself up to the next one. "I have it changed out once a week so it's always a new puzzle."

"O… kay," she said slowly. She kicked my clothes out of the way with one heeled foot. "Better question, then. Why am I here?"

"Because I need to go over some things with you and I figured it would be easier to do while I have the spare time." I placed my hands on the holds, lifting my feet to the only place that made sense. Three swings to the left shifted my momentum, and I was able to throw myself to the next hold, grasping onto the edge with two fingers.

"Are you some kind of adrenaline junky?" she deadpanned. I chuckled. "Skiing, climbing, and now you want to open up some kind of mountain biking park. What else do you do that could possibly get you killed?"

"I've jumped out of a plane or two." I shot her a grin over my shoulder as I lifted myself to the next hold.

"Don't tell me you're going to the top without a rope."

"Oh, I absolutely am, Raylene."

"It's Ray."

Why does she hate her name so much? "Anyway, Ray, I need you to shift some plans around for me," I bit out. I lifted my feet to the next hold, my arms screaming, and rose up high enough that I could lean on the wall for support instead. "All those meetings I have with the bunnies… cancel them. Effective immediately."

She stiffened, her gaze locked on me. "What?"

"Cancel them. I need to clean my act up in order to get an investor for the land." Another hold, another lift, and I could feel the sweat start to bloom across my bare chest and palms. I shoved my hands into the bag of chalk again for good measure. "Here's where you being so uptight and responsible comes in. I need you to pick out whichever one of them you think will work best, will be the most believable date for my sister"s wedding."

She snorted. "From the ones I've met, I don't think that's any of them."

I took the jab in stride. "I've sent you my compendium of potentials over email. Have a look through that and whoever stands out will be the one I take."

I glanced over my shoulder, taking note of the hand she held over her mouth, the way her shoulders moved as she laughed as silently as she could. Her eyes were glued to me, though. Focused and set on the exposed parts of my body. "I'm sorry, you have a compendium?"

"Well, how else am I supposed to keep track of who each one is, what they do, and what they like?" Holding the wall with one hand, I leaned out, stretching my muscles and getting a good look at Ray. I wiped the dampness off my hand on my shorts, covering them in chalk, and stuffed it back in the bag to recoat it. "You think I have room in my brain to remember all of that?"

"In truth, I don't think you have much room in your brain to begin with."

"Ha, ha, very funny." I breathed and looked up the wall to the next hold, formulating a plan to get to it. "Can you do that for me?"

"I suppose."

"Perfect." I looked back at her, watching as she turned, clearly considering herself dismissed. "Oh, Ray?"

She stopped. I watched her back heave as she lifted her chin to the ceiling, sighing dramatically. "Yes?"

I shot her a little grin from where I hung ten feet off the ground. "Try not to be so obvious when you stare at me."

Her mouth opened and closed, searching for words to say before she decided it wasn't worth it and slammed her way through the door. It was far too easy and enjoyable to mess with her. I didn't allow myself to stop and think about the why.

————

Ray stood in front of my desk, her sleeves over her palms, her hands wringing together. Her arms were tucked close to her body, pushing her breasts together, and I wondered if that was a learned behavior for getting what she wanted or if she was doing it without realizing it. "I need to ask you for a favor."

"If you need to leave, that's fine," I said, tearing my gaze from what she was practically giving me on a silver platter. Don't ogle her. I focused instead on my computer, opening up the software I needed for my meeting at three.

"It's not that." She took a deep inhale, letting it simmer in her lungs before she blew it out. "I need to ask you for an advance."

My brows rose as I turned my attention back to her and the way her arms folded in. "Well, that's unexpected."

"I know you have no reason to say yes," she started, taking one step toward my desk before stopping herself. "And I know that's a lot to ask since I'm new. I'm sorry to have to put you in this kind of position."

I fiddled with my lip, using my thumb and forefinger to roll it as I thought about it. "Your contract states that you have no access to advance pay before the end of your probation period?—"

"I know what my contract states." She gulped, her chin bobbing. "I just really need the money as soon as possible."

Under any other circumstance, the answer would have been a hard no. She'd only been working for me for three weeks. She wasn't due her first paycheck for another week, and someone so new was a flight risk. Who's to say she wouldn't take the money she hadn't earned yet and run?

"Please," she breathed.

"Can you tell me why I should bend the contract for you?" I asked. Every part of me wanted to say yes, and I didn't know if that was because she presented as an inherently trustworthy person or just because my cock twitched when I saw her.

Another gulp, another sigh while she tried to find the words she needed. "The home health team needs me to make a payment by tomorrow for my mom's care. If I don't, then she won't have anyone to watch her next week."

Fuck. How on earth was I supposed to say no to that?

"If you don't mind, Ray, can I ask why your mother needs such intensive care?"

The way she looked at me made something snap in my chest. Wide, glassy eyes, locked onto mine, hopeless and helpless. "She was diagnosed with early-onset dementia about five years ago."

I didn't know what to say, didn't know if there was anything I couldsay to that. It wasn't the time for jokes or snide remarks or making her squirm. She was showing me her vulnerable side, her desperate side, and it clocked then why she was the way she was. Why she was so uptight, so serious, so busy. I knew she had to look after her mother, but not to that extent.

"If you can't?—"

"I can," I interrupted, pulling up my emails and starting a new one. "I'll let payroll know. It should hit your account by the time you finish work."

I didn't look at her. Couldn't. I heard the little sniffle she made, heard the clicking of her heels as she turned to the door. "Thank you," she said, her voice small, almost unbearable.

And then she was gone, back on the other side of the impenetrable glass, and the gears and cogs in my mind turned and turned. She had her own problems, her own issues that made her who she was. Serious, beautiful, controlling. Feisty in a way that made my blood boil. Strong, hardworking. A perfect candidate for not just her job, but for a date to Chloe's wedding.

She was going to fucking hate me for it.