7. Billie

CHAPTER 7

BILLIE

" I t's time to put your shoes on, sweetie."

"No!" Quinn sits on the living room floor, arms crossed. "I don't want to."

I sigh, catching sight of the clock on the wall. Damn it. We should have left for school drop-off ten minutes ago.

I kneel down in front of her, trying to coax her into getting ready. "Come on, Quinn. You don't want to be late for school, do you?"

"I'm not going today."

"What do you mean you're not going?" I ask, my patience wearing thin. "You can't just skip school whenever you want."

"I don't feel good," she whines, rubbing a hand over her stomach.

I reach out to feel her forehead, checking for a fever. "You don't feel warm. Are you sure you're not just trying to get out of going to school?"

She shakes her head adamantly. "No, Mommy. I really don't feel good."

I let out a long sigh. In the past, when I was working for myself, I could afford this kind of delay.

But I can't today. Not on the first day of my big project with James.

Quinn pouts, but eventually relents and gets up to put her shoes on. As she does, I look around our tiny apartment and try to ignore the gnawing feeling of dread in my gut.

Things have been tough lately. Money is tight, and I feel like I'm constantly running on fumes. The only thing keeping me going is the thought of the project I'm working on with James.

James. The thought of him sends a shiver down my spine. I can't deny that I'm drawn to him in a way that I shouldn't be. He's smart, successful, and incredibly attractive. But he's also my boss, and I can't afford to let my feelings get in the way of my work. This job is the in I need.

Taking a deep breath, I bring my attention back to Quinn. "Are you nervous about going to the pumpkin patch?"

She shakes her head, apparently having forgotten all about today's field trip. "No, I'm excited. We get to pick our own pumpkins!"

"That sounds like fun," I say, forcing a smile. "I'll pick you up from school and we can carve the pumpkin together, okay?"

Quinn grins, her eyes lighting up. "Really? Can we make pumpkin pie, too?"

I chuckle. "Maybe we can save that for another day. We should hurry, though, so you don't miss your class leaving."

As we drive to school, Quinn chatters on about the pumpkin patch and the different pumpkins she hopes to find. I try to stay present in the moment, enjoying her excitement, but my mind keeps drifting to James. I wonder if he's as nervous as I am about working together. I wonder if he's thinking about me, too.

When we arrive at the school, I give Quinn a tight hug before she disappears into the crowd of kids. I watch her go, feeling a pang of guilt for not being able to spend more time with her. It would have been great to be able to chaperone today's field trip.

But I can't afford to let that guilt consume me. I need to focus on this project. Need to remember I'm doing this for her.

Pulling out of the school parking lot, I glance again at the time. There's no way around it. I'll be at least twenty minutes late to work.

And based on everything I've learned about James so far, he won't like that. Not one bit.

I try to push the thought out of my mind as I speed towards work, but it's no use. My mind keeps conjuring images of James, his piercing blue eyes and chiseled jawline. I can't help the way I feel, but I know it's dangerous to let my guard down around him. One wrong move, and everything I've worked for will go up in smoke.

Finally, I arrive at the office, heart racing and palms sweating. I rush to the elevator, hoping I'm not too late. As soon as the doors open, I'm face-to-face with James. He looks up from his phone and narrows his eyes.

"You're late," he says, his voice cold and clipped.

"I know, I'm sorry," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. "My…"

I trail off, not wanting to tell him about Quinn. That feels way too personal and exposing. Even if he doesn't know that she's his daughter.

"My cat got sick," I finish. "I had to drop her off at the vet."

James eyes me for a moment, and I feel like he's seeing right through me. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait for his response. Finally, he nods curtly.

"Fine. Just make sure it doesn't happen again."

I nod, relieved, and follow him into his office. We sit down at the table where the project materials are laid out. James starts to explain what he wants me to do, but I can't focus on his words. All I can think about is his proximity, his cologne filling my senses.

It's dangerous, I know. But I can't help myself. My body reacts to him even as my mind screams at me to stay away.

As he goes over the details of the project, I feel his eyes on me. I glance up, and our eyes meet for a brief moment before I look away.

"So." He straightens up and folds his arms. "What designs do you have drawn up for this?"

I feel my eyebrows rise. He expects me to already have some designs? We just started ten minutes ago!

Apparently, the implied expectation was that I would work on them last night.

I mentally curse myself for not realizing this earlier.

"I have a few ideas," I lie, grabbing my notebook and flipping through the pages. "But I'll need some more time to develop them."

He nods once. "I'll take a look anyway."

Something glints in his eye. Is he calling me on my bluff? Waiting for me to admit that I don't have any rough designs down?

And then I remember them: the doodles I drew months ago when I was designing graphics for an app for a client. They loved the ideas but eventually went with a different template.

Those old sketches will be perfect to show James now.

I swallow hard, trying to maintain my composure as I hand him my notebook. He flips through the pages, nodding occasionally. I can feel his gaze burning into me, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"Interesting," he finally says, setting the notebook down. "But I think we can do better."

My heart sinks. I knew I should have worked on those designs last night. These are good, but they're not a perfect match for what we need now.

"I can come up with something better," I say, trying to hide my disappointment.

"I'm sure you can," James says, standing up and walking over to me. He leans down, his face inches from mine. "But I need you to do it now. We have a deadline to meet, remember?"

I nod, feeling a flush spread across my cheeks. His proximity is overwhelming, and I can't think straight.

"I'll get right on it," I say, standing up.

"You don't need to go to your desk." He starts clearing space at his. "I need you right here so we can bounce ideas off one another."

My stomach flips, and I can't tell if I'm more excited or terrified.

As I sit down, I can feel his body heat radiating off of him. The scent of his cologne is intoxicating, and I can't help but take a deep breath in. He notices my reaction, and a small smirk appears on his lips.

I ignore him. The man is probably used to every woman he sees fawning over him.

Well, not me. Even if he is insanely attractive, I'm not going to fall for it.

I brush a piece of hair out of my face. "So, what specifically are you looking for in these designs?" I ask, trying to focus on the task at hand.

He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. "I want something sleek and modern, but not too cluttered. It needs to be user-friendly."

I nod, jotting down notes in my notebook. "Got it. What about the color scheme? Any preferences?"

"That's where I see you coming in. You had quite the opinion on colors in our meeting yesterday. What do you think?"

He asks the question like it's a challenge, like he wants me to prove myself to him.

Fine. Challenge accepted.

I take a moment to gather my thoughts before diving in. "I think we should go with a monochromatic color scheme," I say, keeping my tone confident. "Maybe with some pops of a brighter color for accents. It'll give it a clean, modern look while still being visually interesting. Yes, it needs color but it will be too distracting from the content if we go big with the green tones. That's also something people would expect from this app, and we want to stand out while supporting and driving where we want the user's focus to go."

James considers this for a moment before nodding in agreement. "I like it. Let's start with a base of black and white and work from there."

I nod, feeling a sense of satisfaction that he's taking my ideas seriously.

As we start brainstorming, I can feel the energy between us building. Our ideas start to flow freely, and we bounce off each other effortlessly. I can't remember the last time I worked with someone so in sync with me.

I can see where Quinn gets her intelligence and creativity from.

But not her empathy. This man doesn't have a shred of that, and I need to remember who I'm dealing with.

"What about a lighter shade of this?" James reaches over and taps my tablet, and his hand brushes mine. It's a small gesture, but it sends a jolt of electricity through me. I can feel my face flush as I quickly pull my hand away, trying to ignore the way my heart is racing.

"Y-yeah," I stammer. "That's great."

He goes around the desk and picks up his coffee from earlier. "Good. Let's see how that looks."

I can't help but notice that he's not looking directly at me. Did he notice my reaction when he touched me?

Did he feel what I did?

It doesn't matter. James Garris is the kind of man who chews women up and spits them out. Just look at what he did to Quinn's birth mom.

"I'll make the change." I focus on the screen again.

"It's almost lunch. I'll have something ordered in so we can keep going."

Of course he doesn't leave his office for lunch. Does the man do anything other than work?

Other than hitting gym, that is. Even through his suit, it's clear he's perfectly toned.

I bite my lip. What's wrong with me? I'm here on a mission!

"How does salad sound?" James picks up his phone to call his assistant.

My heart beats a little faster as I nod. I've found an in, and I'm gonna go for it before I lose my nerve.

I wait until he's placed the order and hung up. "Salad is perfect," I say. "High blood pressure runs in the family, and I just want to do what I can, you know?"

My cheeks warm. Will this work?

"Hmm." He nods and picks up his phone.

I swallow hard. "What about you? What sort of things run in your family? Allergies, say… or asthma?"

My voice squeaks at the end, and James looks at me like I've grown a second head.

He sets his phone down on the desk and crosses his arms, studying me for a moment. "Why do you ask?"

I shift in my chair, feeling suddenly exposed. "Just curious, I guess. It's always good to know your coworkers' medical history, in case of emergencies or anything like that."

James raises an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

I nod, desperately trying to maintain eye contact. "Yes, it's just a precaution. I mean, you never know when something might happen and you need to know if someone has a history of heart disease or something like that."

He leans back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on me. "I see. Well, fortunately for me, I have a clean bill of health."

I bit the inside of my cheek. O-kay, so that's good…

But what about the rest of his family?

"Do you have any siblings?" I ask, then smile big. "I'm an only child."

Hopefully, that was a smooth-as-butter transition, and it just looks like I'm trying to get to know him better.

"Lunch should be here soon." He stretches his arms above his head. "It's a good time to take a break if you want one."

I try not to look defeated. "Oh. Right. Sure."

Feeling like I've failed horribly, I grab my purse and head for the door. As I'm opening it, I see James's reflection in the glass. He's looking right at me, a puzzled expression on.

I take a deep breath and push the door open before stepping out into the hallway. Damn it, I need to get my act together. I can't let him get the best of me like this.

Time is running out. I don't have the cutthroat attitude to stay at this job forever, and if I don't get the information I need before I leave then my chance will be over.

James is clearly a hard nut to crack, but I'm also determined. When it comes to Quinn, there's very little I won't do.