CHAPTER TWELVE: CHLOE

Lake Buckley was a true vision of peace. The water was still, allowing birds to dive down out of trees and skirt across the top of the surface to drink. Reeds and other water plants billowed in the gentle breeze that swept through the trees surrounding the cottages, and I turned my head into it, tucking my head behind my ear.

If this was place was so peaceful, why did I feel so unsettled?

Ever since I’d pulled the car over half an hour ago to fix Theodore’s tie for him, it’d felt like I had an itch I couldn’t scratch—like when you get one on the awkward part of your back that you can’t reach no matter how you contort yourself.

All I’d done was fix his tie.

I’d done that tons of times and never felt a bloody thing, so why was I restless now? Sure, okay, our faces had been closer than usual because we were in the car, but I didn’t really like his face.

I regularly fantasised about smacking it with something solid, after all.

It wasn’t even as though his expression had been any different, either. His face had been as cool and calm as it always was during work hours, and there hadn’t been the slightest hint of acknowledgement of our closeness in his eyes.

Maybe that was it.

It was his eyes.

Those stupid grey-blue eyes that seemed to shimmer with silver when the light hit them exactly right. I didn’t make a habit of looking too closely into my boss’ eyes, so in that tight space with the early morning rays of sun creeping through the window to glint off his eyes, it’d shaken me a bit.

Yeah.

That had to be it.

I was a sucker for a pretty face, after all, and Theodore Black did have one of the prettiest faces around.

Even if it irritated the crap out of me when he opened his mouth.

It was just the moment and the cramped space in the front of the car. I refused to believe it was anything else, because I couldn’t take the idea that my heart could pitter-patter for that bastard.

Just because he was being nice to me now didn’t erase months of cold, demanding bullshit. It certainly didn’t erase the fact that he’d held me and my resignation hostage for the last month.

I’d seen different sides to him already in just one weekend. Living with someone would do that, especially when your roommate was someone you’d known for a long time. I was already quickly realising that while I knew Theodore Black, I didn’t actually know him.

I knew Vice-President of Black Ink Corporation and heir to the dukedom of Ruxleigh, Theodore Black.

I didn’t know just Theodore.

Was he having the same thoughts about me? He didn’t know me like that, either. He knew executive assistant Chloe St. James, not just Chloe. That’d been evident when he’d been surprised at my snack choices.

For a man who could recite the lunch orders of his entire secretarial team, I was surprised he hadn’t realised that I never ate anything overly sweet.

Of course, this all posed the issue of wanting to get to know him or not. Embarking on such a journey seemed like a dangerous thing to do—but did I even have a choice? It wasn’t as though I could hole up away from him for the next six weeks and not speak to him outside of work at all.

Maybe I should have asked to stay somewhere else. Sure, living together was more efficient, but if my heart was going to do a little jig every time this git asked me to do his tie for him, I wasn’t sure I could cope.

It wasn’t like I had any control over who I was attracted to.

It was easier being out here by the lake. Right now, he was the version of him I knew best—the one in the office who was cold and calculating, who didn’t let a single thing pass him by. We’d only been here forty minutes and he’d already noticed two issues in the plan that needed immediate revisions.

The unrelenting, bossy side of him was what I was used to.

If only this uneasiness inside me would settle down.

Maybe going back to London for Aunt Fizz’s birthday party would be a good idea after all, even if it meant flying down rather than driving. It wouldn’t be too expensive, either. If I was this weirded out after only a few days, God only knew how I’d feel after a few weeks.

I followed a few steps behind the group consisting of Theodore; Pete Andrews, the owner; and his eldest son, Ryan. I didn’t know anything about building or renovating, so all I did was take notes of their conversation on my tablet and enjoy the scenery.

The cottages really were something else. Even though they needed renovation, it was mostly inside, and mostly to bring them up to regulation to save having to redo it all a few years down the line.

I’d seen endless pictures of this all, of course, but it didn’t compare to seeing it in person. It was easy to see why Black Ink Corp had wanted to buy this, especially since they’d also been able to get hold of the land.

This was exactly the kind of place people would pay a premium to escape to.

Everything made so much sense now.

We walked up to the second to last cottage, the one dubbed ‘Cottage One’ on the map I had, and my eyes widened. It had slightly more privacy than the others with some trees providing a natural barrier from the gravel road, and where this section of the lake curved around a bit, it was also set out of view of the others.

This was the one I’d stay at, for sure.

“You look as though you like this one.”

I blinked, yanking myself out of my head, and smiled at Ryan. “Ah, I was just thinking it was the kind of place I’d stay in myself.”

“It’s the best of the lot, if you ask me,” he agreed, putting his hands in his pockets. “You can see the other cottages from most of the others, but this one is almost entirely secluded.”

“Indeed. It looks like you’d have to be right out on the lake to even glimpse it.” I glanced around. “It’s peaceful.”

He smiled. “It’s one of the first that’ll be finished. It’s in pretty good nick aside from some minor rewiring in the kitchen.”

“Is this the one that’ll be used as the show home?”

“That depends on what Mr Black says, but given that it’s the easiest to renovate, I think so.”

I checked the plan. “This is a three-bedroom, right?”

“You know a lot about it.”

“It’s my job.” I fought back a light laugh. “I wouldn’t be much of an assistant if I didn’t know what was going on here.”

“True.” His gaze lingered on me. “They’re going in. Should we follow?”

“Ah, yes.” Damn it. I was getting distracted.

I turned and headed towards the cottage, stepping up onto the deck. It was solid but in need of staining, and that was pretty much the only way to describe the flooring inside the cottage, too.

Otherwise, what Ryan had said seemed to be the truth. All this place needed was some tender loving care once the rewiring was done, and that was already underway. The electrician in the kitchen greeted us, and as Theodore engaged him in conversation, I peered around the space.

It was bigger than it looked outside, perhaps due to the open-plan nature of the living space. The kitchen was near the entrance, and the living room area overlooked the lake courtesy of giant windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling.

“They’re new,” Ryan said. “They were just installed on Friday, actually. There was a damp issue with the previous sliding glass doors, so they were changed out as a priority.”

“Oh, really?” I opened the document for this cottage and tapped that in. “Have there been any issues since?”

“No, and there shouldn’t be. The last set of doors were old, and the seals had gone.”

That made sense. “I’m sure the view from here when they’re clean is incredible.”

“It is. You’ll be able to see it before you go back, I’m sure.”

“I hope so. It’d be nice to see one completed before we’re done here.” I smiled up at him.

Ryan held my gaze for a moment, then opened his mouth. Before he could speak, there was a sharp, “Miss St. James?” from the other side of the room, and I quickly turned towards the kitchen.

“Yes, sir?” I walked over to where he was standing.

“You appear to be daydreaming,” Theodore said coolly, looking down at me.

“Not at all, sir. Ryan was telling me about the damp issue with the doors and how it’s been resolved, so I was making a note to check off against the survey when I’m in the office.”

“Mm. Pay a little more attention to what I’m doing, please.”

Wow.

He hadn’t said a word to me for half an hour, and now he had a stick up his arse.

I took a deep breath and smiled flatly at him. “Of course, sir.”

***

Me: How are things at the office?

Melody: It’s too quiet. It’s strange. I keep expecting Mr Black to pop out of his office and demand a cup of tea.

I chuckled and clicked the reply box on the group chat.

Me: Well, he just did that to me, if it helps. Although it was more him glaring at me across the room.

Daniel: You’re sharing an office???

Me: I take sympathy donations in size Sauvignon Blanc.

Melody: Perhaps you should take it in Gordon’s gin, instead.

Hm.

Gin was stronger than wine, and I did enjoy a gin and lemonade every now and then.

Me: You might be onto something there.

Me: There hasn’t been any trouble, has there?

Daniel: Well…

Melody: It was nothing.

Me: Daniel. Talk.

Daniel: Emily Goldstein came back. She didn’t get past reception, but she caused a huge fuss, and the President has banned her from the building. I think they’re looking at legal ways to keep her away.

Good grief.

That woman really did have a screw loose.

Actually, she had the whole toolbox loose.

Me: Hmm. What did she want this time?

Melody: She claimed that she and Mr Black went out in university, so it was unreasonable that he didn’t want to see her.

Emily Goldstein and I had vastly different definitions of the word ‘unreasonable.’

Me: Perhaps them going out in university is why he doesn’t want to see her.

Daniel: I’ve only met her twice and I don’t want to see her, so I understand that.

Ha.

Tell me how you really feel, Daniel.

“What are you laughing at over there?” Theodore peered at me around the side of his monitor screen. “Are you slacking off, Miss St. James?”

“I would never, sir,” I replied. “I was checking in with Melody and Daniel.”

“In that group chat of yours?”

“It would be inefficient to check in separately, don’t you think?”

He grunted. “I think I should be in there for efficiency’s sake.”

“Just like nobody wants their boss at a company dinner, nobody wants their boss in the group chat, sir.” I reached for my tea and sipped.

“Ridiculous. I’m a delight to have dinner with. You’re doing it every night.”

“Because we’re cohabitating. Don’t take this the wrong way, but if we weren’t, I wouldn’t have dinner with you. At all.” I paused. “Sir.”

“Again, adding ‘sir’ to the end doesn’t make it polite,” he grumbled. “How is everything at the office?”

“Quiet, apparently.”

“Is that because I’m not there?”

“I’d wager so, sir.” I fought back a laugh. “Emily Goldstein showed up in reception today, apparently.”

He jumped to his feet and glared across the room. “What did she want this time?”

“Your attention. Apparently, the two of you went out in university and it’s ‘unreasonable’ that you don’t want to see her now.”

“Does she know the meaning of the word?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What happened to her?”

“She was removed after causing a scene, banned from the building, and the President is seeking legal advice.”

“Mph.” Theodore sat back down and wheeled his chair slightly to the side, so he didn’t have to strain around the side of his monstrous monitor. “We didn’t go out, you know.”

I swung my gaze from my screen over to him. “It’s none of my business, sir.”

“Perhaps, but I was just making it clear that my taste doesn’t extend to the desperate.”

“I’m aware. All you’re interested in is her father’s business, and only if he’s going to sell it to you. Is that right?”

He nodded. “Something like that.”

My laptop pinged, and a little box popped up in the corner of the screen from the company messaging service. Cassidy’s name was front and centre, and I clicked on it to read her message.

“Sir, the President would like to talk to you,” I said.

Theodore groaned. “Is it about Emily?”

“I believe you already know the answer to that.”

“Fine. Will you be done with your work by four?”

I nodded.

“Have him call me then. We’ve had a long day, so finish then.”

It was my turn to scoot my chair across and stare across the room. “Finish at… four? Are you ill, sir?”

“Would you like to work later, Miss St. James? I’m sure I can find you something to do.”

“That’s quite all right. Four sounds like an excellent time to get off work.” I quickly wheeled myself back to behind my laptop. “I’ll let Cassidy know.”