3. Emily

3

EMILY

I juggled the two bags of takeout in my hands. For the second day in a row, Mr. Jacobs had ordered food to be brought in. At least this time I wasn’t asked to go out and get it. The DoorDash driver brought it right to the building, though he refused to bring it up to the offices. So, I’d taken the elevator down to get it and rode back up to our floor with the scent of Mexican food filling my nostrils. My stomach growled the entire way. I still had forty minutes until I could take lunch, and I was starving.

With my hands full, it was difficult to knock on Daniel’s office door, so I was glad to see it had been left ajar. As I approached, I could see him leaned back in his chair speaking to someone on the phone. I lingered there, not eavesdropping, as he finished, and when he hung up, I gently pushed the door open.

“Sorry, Mr. Jacobs, the door was open. I have your lunch.” I felt awkward just walking in, especially after Olivia had told me not to ever enter his office without being invited. He looked up at me and waved me over as he typed something on his computer. It looked like he was focusing, so I set the bags on the corner of his desk and hurried back toward the door, not wanting to disrupt him. I had my hand on the doorknob when he called out to me.

“Emily, please stay.”

I froze in place, feeling like I had done something wrong. It was only my fifth day on the job, and I just wanted to do a good job for everyone, but I had made a horrible mistake by not knocking.

“And close the door, please.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat as I shut the door quietly and turned to face him. The rebuke was warranted. I knew I hadn’t followed instructions, but my hands were full and the door was open, so I hadn’t thought it would be a big deal to slip in, set the food down, and slip out. I stayed by the door as he finished whatever it was he was doing and braced myself for an angry eruption, or at the very least, a lecture.

He moved some files off his desk and pulled the bags of food toward himself. “Come sit,” he ordered as he opened the first bag.

Confused, I hesitantly strolled to the chairs situated across from his desk and sat down. He unpacked the dishes, foil tins with paper lids on them. Steam rose from the aromatic food as he uncovered the tins and made my mouth water.

“Uh, sir…”

“Shh,” he interrupted. “Just getting lunch ready.”

My stomach growled loudly. I had a few things to get done before I could leave and get my own lunch, and the longer I sat watching him unveil this veritable feast in front of me, torturing my tastebuds, the less time I’d have to finish those tasks and get my own food. I didn’t want to seem impatient, however, and Olivia told me how stern Mr. Jacobs was, so I folded my hands in my lap and tried not to be bothered by the delicious scents wafting my way.

“Chorizo or chicken?” he asked, looking up at me.

“Uh, I’m not sure I know what you’re asking.”

“I ordered enough for two. Would you like chorizo or chicken?” He tilted the dishes toward me so I could see how delectable they looked. I could tell straight away which one was chicken, slathered in queso and pico, a dollop of sour cream and guacamole topping the salad next to the meat.

“I’m confused.” I wondered if this was normal, for the head partner and CEO of the firm to entertain new employees, or if perhaps I was getting special treatment. I’d seen the way he looked at me, and I wasn’t shy about returning the not so subtle gazes of attraction.

“I am inviting you to eat with me. If you don’t want Mexican, we can go out and get whatever you want.”

I was flattered. “Uh, no, sir. I love Mexican food. I think the chicken looks good.”

“Here,” he said, pushing the tin in my direction. He slid a cutlery pack across the table toward me and pulled the chorizo dish back to his side of the desk. “I’m glad you like it because Mexican is my favorite. I eat it a couple times a week.”

Reaching for the plasticware, I couldn’t help but look back at the door and wonder if one of the partners or staff members would walk in and interrupt us. They’d see me dining with him and wonder what was going on. I didn’t want to be painted as the woman who paid extra attention to the boss in order to get special treatment. Nor did I want to brush off the advances of a very handsome man whom I took a real interest in. The confusion made my appetite wane slightly.

“Don’t worry. No one enters this office without being invited.”

“Except me,” I grumbled, thinking I’d said it quietly enough that he couldn’t hear me, but he chuckled.

“True.” He unwrapped his cutlery and continued, “But I knew you were coming and I left the door ajar on purpose.”

His good humor put me at ease. “Why are you like that?” It was an honest question. I had bosses before who were too strict, guys who liked to hold their power over others to keep them in line. Mr. Jacobs didn’t seem that way. At least not to me.

“We handle a lot of very confidential and sensitive information. No one enters my office at any time without being invited because at any given time, I could be on a call or have private documents out.”

“So you left the door open for me knowing you wouldn’t be handling confidential information?” I peeled the wrapper off the cutlery and unrolled it. I could almost taste the food already.

“Something like that.” He winked at me as he took a bite. I was beginning to sense, based on his body language and how friendly he was, that this was more of a social lunch than a business lunch. I didn’t mind. He was very handsome and was the first man who’d looked my way since getting to the city.

“Uh, well you know my lunch isn’t for about forty minutes.” I plunged the fork into the salad and scooped up some sour cream too.

“Your lunch is when the boss says your lunch is. Let me deal with Olivia.” After he took a bite, he wiped his mouth then reached beneath his desk and produced two bottles of water. “Here, I almost forgot drinks.”

“Oh, thank you.” Everything about this lunch felt awkward but somehow right. Like we were on a first date just getting to know each other, not across from his desk during work hours.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” He put his fork down as he opened his bottle of water, and I felt my cheeks burning.

“No, honestly.”

“Well, you are. And I want to get to know you better—as a person, not as your boss.” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “So, tell me, why UC Berkeley, and why Chicago?”

“Well, I did online school during the pandemic, and UC offered the entire course online. And Chicago always seemed like the place to be. Growing up, I hated being a country girl. I like the hustle and bustle of the city.” I ate a bite of the chicken and groaned at how delicious it was. “So good.”

“I know, right!” He snickered and continued his friendly interrogation. “You miss your family?”

“Just have my parents and one sister, who lives in Chicago too. And I sort of miss home, but not the way small town life goes. You know?” I liked that he was interested in me as a person. It made me more comfortable with having lunch with him, like he wasn’t just after sex the way Mom and Evelyn warned me men were.

“Ah, yes. I grew up in Springfield. Not necessarily a major city, but not a small town. I prefer Chicago too…” He took another bite and chewed, and I took the opportunity to ask a question.

“You have any siblings?”

“One brother.” He coughed, choking on his bite of food. “Sorry…” He sipped his water. “It’s just me and my brother, but he’s married, so I have a sister-in-law.”

“That’s nice. My sister is married, but I don’t know much about her husband.” The conversation lulled for a moment as we ate. The food was so good, and I was grateful that he had invited me.

“What about hobbies? Do you do sports? Art?”

Mr. Jacobs truly seemed interested in me, and I liked that we had some things in common. Growing up with only one sibling, I had at times wished we’d had a bigger family and at other times wished I were an only child. I wondered if he also encountered that. “Uh, yes. I played basketball in high school and ran track. I love reading.”

“Wow, me too.” He nodded appreciatively as he took another bite then chased it with a drink again. “I was the point guard.”

“Small forward.” I shrugged and grinned.

“I’ll have to take you out for some one-on-one.” He leaned over his dish and had another large bite. I was starting to feel really comfortable with him. He ate like any other man, huge bites, messy lips. At least he had the decency to not talk with his mouth full, but he was no different from any other guy I’d met. Not intimidating at all.

“So, you like reading too?” I sipped my water and waited as he finished his bite before answering.

“Yes, I actually love classics. Dostoyevsky is my favorite, but I also like Dumas, Lewis, and I’ve dabbled in some Dickens.”

The list of authors he liked made my heart swoon. We had so many things in common. “Have you read The Count of Monte Cristo ?” I didn’t want to take another bite and break up the flow of the conversation. My mind was hungrier to learn more about him than my stomach was for food.

“I have. One of my favorites, actually. I love how complex the subplots are.” I couldn’t get over his smile and the way his eyes lit up. “I can’t believe how much we have in common. You know, I’m really glad I invited you to have lunch with me. We need to do this more often.”

“Yeah, I think so too.” If the man hadn’t been as attractive to me as he was, this would have sealed the deal. He was cultured but down to earth, honest and bold, and he was interested in me. “If you don't mind my saying so, sir, I think you are probably the most attractive man I’ve ever met.”

He laughed so loud, I thought the entire floor would hear him. When he calmed down, he said, “I think you’re pretty gorgeous too, and I think we will be spending a lot more time together in the future, you know, see how well we fit, if we connect…” He offered a seductive look over the fork poised to enter his mouth.

The sudden rush of arousal flooding my groin sent another burst of warmth to my cheeks. “I definitely want to know if we fit together.” I wasn’t sure if he meant the comment as a double entendre, but I certainly did. And I was positive that I wanted him to fit.