8. Hugo

8

HUGO

A s I watch Zoey drive away, my chest feels heavy. I’ve had the best day in as long as I can remember hanging out with that woman. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, but something has scared her away.

My mind thinks back on the last few hours. She disappeared as soon as we arrived, and then Dad whisked me away to talk to various people who are important to the business.

There were a lot of familiar faces, old work contacts who it was good to catch up with. But I kept scanning the room looking for Zoey.

I tried to go and look for her a few times, but I kept running into people who wanted to chat.

Then Dad did his speech. I had planned to tell him tonight that I didn’t want to run the company. But he’d gathered all these people together, and he’d already told half of them. I respect my father too much to embarrass him so publicly.

A thought occurs to me. Maybe that’s why Zoey was so dismissive. I told her I was going to set my dad straight, and I didn’t. She must think I’m a coward or a liar.

Relief floods over me. If that’s all it is, I’ll easily be able to explain it to her. I’ll give her the weekend to cool down, and I’ll speak to her on Monday.

Feeling a lot better about the situation, I climb the stairs to the house and head back to the party.

I spend Monday morning walking the factory floor. It’s good to see familiar faces, and some of the workers I remember from my childhood are still here.

As always, I get a tingly feeling when I walk into the design lab.

Blueprints are pinned to the walls, and there’s a banging noise coming from the workshop.

I spend a few hours checking out what they’re working on and pouring over plans with the head designer.

Finally, in the afternoon, I head across the parking lot to the office building. I know Zoey will be in there, and I feel a shiver of anticipation at seeing her.

The office is decked out in tinsel and fairy lights. Staff are standing around talking at each other’s desks. With four days to Christmas, I get the feeling there’s not a lot of work going on.

She’s sitting behind a desk right outside my father’s office. She’s looking at a computer screen, her hair pulled back tight with a look of concentration on her face, like some prim gatekeeper.

I saunter over. “I’d like to see Mr. Walker.”

She glances up and a smile flickers across her face before it’s quickly replaced by a hard expression.

“He’s not available right now.”

My heart beats faster at the sight of her. Damn, I’d forgotten how good-looking she is, especially when she’s being so infuriatingly stern.

“Then he won’t mind if you come for a coffee break with me.” I flash her my cheekiest smile, but her expression remains hard.

“I’ve got a report to finish typing.”

I lean on the side of her desk. “The report can wait. I’d like to speak to you.”

Her eyes go wide with indignation. “You’re not my boss yet.” The last is said pointedly, which confirms my suspicions of why she’s angry at me.

“No, and I won’t be.”

“That’s not what your dad thinks,” she says quietly. “Or all those people at the party on Friday.”

“I’d like to explain.” I glance around the office. “But not here.”

She nods. “We can go into Mr. Walker’s office.”

She stands up and I notice she’s wearing the butt-hugging black skirt again, which does nothing to help get my heart rate under control.

“You have five minutes.”

I can’t help but grin; she may think I’m the next CEO, but she’s the one bossing me around.

I follow her into the office, and she shuts the door behind us. There’s a thick mahogany desk and a big leather chair behind it.

It’s been a few years since I’ve been in Dad’s office, but it still looks and smells the same: like leather and cigars.

She’s got her arms folded across her chest waiting for me to speak.

“Look, Zoey, I know why you’re angry.”

She taps her foot impatiently, and I go on.

“I don’t blame you. I was going to tell my father, but he’d gathered all those people and he’d already told most of them. I may argue with my father sometimes, but I respect him. I couldn’t have embarrassed him like that.”

Her foot stops tapping, but she keeps her arms folded. “When will you tell him?”

I run my hands through my hair. “I was going to tell him today.”

“He’s with a supplier this afternoon,” she says. “He won’t be coming back to the office.”

“It will have to be tomorrow then.”

“Good.” She nods at me curtly. “If that’s all, then I need to get back to this report.”

I cross the room and put my hands on her shoulders. She gasps in surprise. “No, that’s not all, Zoey.”

My eyes search hers looking for the connection we shared on Friday.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. About that kiss...”

She pulls away from me, and I drop my arms instantly.

“You’re unbelievable.” She’s got a look of disgust on her face which I don’t understand. It’s at odds with the time we shared on Friday.

“What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head. “If you have to ask, you’re even more privileged than I thought.”

She turns on her heel and marches out of the room.

I lean on Dad’s desk, breathing heavily. My heart feels heavy in my chest. I don’t know what I’ve done to make her so angry with me.

I’m sure she felt the same connection on Friday, and now she’s treating me like I’m some kind of scumbag.

For a moment there, I thought I might have a future in this town. I was going to present Dad with a business proposition. That instead of taking over I establish a new branch of the business designing modern furniture entirely from reclaimed wood, environmental as well as stylish pieces.

And with Zoey by my side, I thought just maybe there might be a place for me in this town.

Now I know I’m better off far away from here. It’s time to pack up my bag and head back to Mexico.