CHAPTER TEN

AVERY

Dominic texted to let me know he's going to pick me up tomorrow morning for our first shopping excursion. I debated telling him to not bother but stop myself.

Why ruin an opportunity to spread my creative wings? This could be just what my resume needs to land a new job after leaving Design Time for good. Especially since my current applications keep netting me zero responses.

A job isn't a requirement for me to leave Design Time, since I'm working on saving a sizable nest egg, then quitting once the safety net is in place. But fast tracking my plans by accepting a position elsewhere would be amazing.

With that in mind, I agreed to the time and sent Dominic my address, but if he tried to pick up where we left off, I"d shut him down.

This was a business arrangement only.

The next morning, I waited outside on my porch step for Dominic to show up. It's 7 AM, and I don"t want him banging on the door and waking up Elsie. The nearest shopping center is in Everton—almost an hour away—but leaving this early still feels like overkill.

I'm barely awake when his sleek car parks by the curb. The door pops open from the inside, and I accept the unspoken invitation, sinking into the leather seat. Cozy heat wards off the chill of the morning that will soon burn off as the day continues, and my gaze finds the seat warmer button on the dash lit up.

Was it intentional? Or did Dominic accidentally bump the button while turning on his own seat warmer?

"Good morning. This is for you." He hands me a large, iced coffee with the Crossing's Cups Cakes label. The sticker on the side lists hazelnut and butter pecan shots along with cream and sugar.

This is uncharacteristically nice of him. And how does he know my order? Last time he bought me coffee, it was hot and sugar free.

I eyed him suspiciously.

"What? The caffeine will wake you up, and don't pretend not to like it. I remember seeing you with one at work." He shifts the car into ‘DRIVE' and heads toward the interstate. My brain tries to think back to when he would have seen me with an iced drink from Crossing's Cups Cakes but quickly gives up.

Too much thinking. Too early.

"Thanks." After taking a drink, I set it back in the cup holder, then lean my head against the window and close my eyes as a talk show plays in the background.

Of course, he listens to talk radio...

"Avery. Time to wake up, firebrand. We"re here." Dominic gently shakes my shoulder as the hazy filaments of a dream fade away.

Straightening in my seat, I realize we're parked in front of a shopping mall. Covering a yawn, I ask, "I fell asleep?"

"Yeah, you"ve been knocked out for the past hour. Missed the entire drive to Everton."

"That"s weird. I can"t sleep in cars."

"Guess you felt safe," he murmurs as he unbuckles our seat belts and gets out.

I"m pretty sure I was just exhausted, but whatever.

Red block letters hang above the automatic doors of a popular office supplies store as we cross the parking lot and step inside. It's been a while since I've been to a store like this—not since college. The smell of paper and ink is nice. Nostalgic. Makes me miss the fun of school supplies shopping and checking items off the list.

"You know, you snore a little when you sleep." Dominic bumps his shoulder against mine, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. If he was anyone else, I"d be embarrassed, but I figure it serves him right after dragging me out of bed so early on a Saturday.

"Good."

He chuckles. "You"ve got a mean streak."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't." My thumb and forefinger slide across my lips like I'm zipping away a secret. "So, where do you want to start? Do you have a list?"

"See? This is why I brought you. You know what you"re doing."

My eyes roll up to the fluorescent-lighted ceiling. Guess that means there's no list. "Alright, well, I have a general idea for things, but let"s write down what you think you need and go from there."

Taking a seat at one of the office displays set up in the back of the store, I remove a notebook and pen from my purse. Stealing a chair from another office example, Dominic sits by me.

"Do you always carry pen and paper around?"

"It's handy, isn't it?" I write ‘Stone Precision Office' across the top of the page. "Sometimes, I use the notes app on my phone, but I like having the old-fashioned option. It makes crossing things off a list more satisfying."

Nodding his head in understanding, he moves on to rattling off items. "We"ll need new desktop computers, desks, and chairs. A filing cabinet. There are three offices, one for me, one for Matt, and one that might work for storage. Then there's a conference room and the small lobby slash waiting area for clients."

My pen flies over the page as I scribble down each room then look up at him expectantly, waiting for more details.

"That"s all," he says.

"Now, I know why you needed me. Do you have any preferences? Mac or Windows? Do you want your desk to have a lot of drawers for storage or do you prefer a simpler design, no clutter?" As I throw out these questions, Dominic shrugs his shoulders noncommittally.

"I don"t really care. As long as it functions, it works for me."

Trying a different tack, I ask, "What about your home? Do you have a particular style there that you want to emulate?"

"Nope. I wouldn"t say it has any specific theme."

"You"re killing me, smalls!" He's acting like a blank slate when I know he's a man with strong views. Carte blanche sounds amazing in theory, but it also sounds too easy because I'm working with Dominic Stone.

"That's why you're here. I'm just the guy with the credit card. I have no opinions."

We'll see about that…

After pulling up my Pinterest board of inspiration, we started walking through all of the office displays. Today is more of an expedition trip, where we see what's available and at what price before committing to any purchases. Dominic snaps pictures of items we both like for a vision board I plan on creating to help us decide what fits and what doesn"t.

It's fun browsing and dreaming of what the Stone Precision office can become. I haven't had the opportunity to exercise this part of myself in a while, and a part of me recognizes that I owe Dominic a bit of gratitude. He didn't have to ask me for help. He could've hired any number of qualified designers.

Heck, Mike probably has a list he could've shared. One that includes Luna Fielding, a Suitor's Crossing legend, despite her young age, because she was the mastermind behind renovating Buttercream Dreams and Brewed into Crossing's Cups Cakes. The local newspaper did a whole story about her.

Yet Dominic chose me.

I'm grateful for his trust, even if I was suspicious at first.

Four hours later, Dominic and I stared at paint sample cards, trying to decide which color to paint the office walls. After catching me stashing stacks of different colors in my purse, Dominic reprimands me. "That"s stealing, you know. Why do you even need that many? We"re not painting the walls anything other than a neutral tone."

"I use these for different crafts. Trust me, they come in handy," I explain, stuffing more into my purse pockets. Dominic looks at me like I'm a crazy craft lady, and I guess I am.

"I need to get you out of here before you"re arrested." He locks his hand around my arm and drags me away from the aisle, but not before I pluck a couple of pretty blue sample cards from the end cap. "While there"d be some pleasure in seeing your saintly self behind bars, the risks far outweigh the gains. We don"t know who could be in the cell with you."

"Ruffians, thugs?" I quip. He gives me a blank look. "Tangled?"

"Never heard of it."

Unfortunately, I'm not shocked. "Have you been living under a rock? It's only one of the best Disney movies ever!"

"No, just working my ass off to get my business off the ground," he grumbles.

Touchy!But I guess he has a point. While I watched Disney movies and lamented my career prospects, Dominic had been out doing whatever he needed to do to make his dreams come true.

An admirable quality.

Once we're settled in his car, my purse overflowing with paint sample cards, Dominic turns to me. "What do you want for lunch? There are a ton of options around here."

"I don"t care." He suggests a Mexican restaurant nearby. "Except for that." My face scrunches up in disapproval. I love chips and salsa and yummy margaritas, but I'm in the mood for something lighter.

"So, you do care." Dominic huffs as he starts driving around.

"I don"t care means you don"t know what you want but you know what you don"t want." It's simple girl math.

"Thanks for clearing that up, but we still need a place to eat."

I point to a place on our right. "That looks good."

"You and sandwiches…" he mutters before parking the car, and we walk inside. It's a cute shop, obviously locally owned. Handmade trinkets stock the front of the store while the rest of the decor is very homey and rustic. The chalkboard menu hangs over a rural scene.

It reminds me a lot of Pickle Rye back in Suitor's Crossing.

Dominic gestures in front of him. "Ladies first."

"You"re no gentleman," I taunted but stepped in front of him and ordered. After refusing to let me pay for lunch—again—Dominic hands the empty cups to me. "I"ll wait here. Go get our drinks and a table. I want Pepsi."

I playfully salute him and click my heels together. "Sir, yes, sir."

"Smart ass." A reluctant smile transforms his stern features, and it's a shame he doesn't smile more.

Why do you care?

Right, I don't.

Chastising my wayward thoughts, I scurry over to the drinks machine, reinforcing the walls I've built up between me and Dominic. We've done so well with keeping things professional. The hours spent with him today weren't filled with our usual tension because he'd been fairly easygoing, which has lulled me into lowering my defenses. A tactical error on my part.

I can't mess up now by fixating on how nice his smile is.

No matter how endearing I find it.