Chapter Eight

A Big, Huge Assumption

Valentina

The clicking of keyboards and hushed voices filled the office. Swallowing the giggle stuck in my throat, I took a sip of my latte and sat on my desk chair. My new-employee orientation was done. All I had to do was get through the rest of the day without making a fool of myself.

My assigned cube was at the far end on the third floor, in one of the many clusters of low-walled cubical offices in the massive warehouse-style building. Sixty-inch flat screens hung from the ceiling over the bobbing heads of the operations team in the middle of the room.

According to my tour guy from this morning, everyone had access to playrooms, napping quarters, and free breakfast and lunch on the second floor. For anyone staying past seven at night, the kitchen had lunch leftovers wrapped in individual servings. Coffee, pastries, and fruit were available all day in the various break rooms. Cole’s priority was to take care of his people. His passion for the company touched every corner, and I found that I wanted to be part of all this more than I’d first thought.

Without meaning to, Cole now played a big role in my life. Because of him, I had a home and a job—a means to give Max the life he deserved. I touched my lips, feeling warm and tingly all over. No. I shook my head and ran a hand through my hair. If I wanted to thank the guy, I could bake him some cookies. More kissing was certainly not the answer, even if that was the only thing I could think of lately.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the flicker in my belly. When the moment passed, I turned my attention to the high pile of contracts I had to read. Grinning like a four-year-old in a candy shop, I grabbed the first three-inch binder and got started. On top of all the legal jargon, there were specific formulas to calculate and determine the level of our success. Just what I needed to get Cole out of my head. I wrote it all down in my notebook and worked out the examples provided in the text.

Hours later, my laptop screen flickered a couple of times before it went blank. Not the blue screen of death, but a black screen with a cursor that scurried across the bottom of the screen, leaving a text from a “DC” in its trail.

—How’s your first day going?—

My head shot up toward the operations gallery, and my heart pumped hard. No one looked in my direction. I checked behind me. Nothing. For some reason, I thought of Cole. He was the owner and probably had all kinds of access and security clearance. I grinned at my screen as I typed a response.

—Is this where you tell me the answer is out there?—

—I could, but you already know that. Just curious how your day was going, is all.—

That sounded innocent enough, but I looked behind me again anyway. I covered my mouth to stifle a giggle. An actual giggle. How did he do that? Two lines of text was all it took for him to chip away at my resolve to stay away from him.

—Cole?—

—I went by the coffee shop this morning. You weren’t there. I miss seeing your face.—

—I have a real job now. Can’t afford to sit around in coffee shops, waiting on you.—

—Is that what you were doing before?—

Shit. Did I just confess I went to Cafe Triste to see him?

—Heads up!—

My fingers touched the keyboard, but the screen cleared and Windows came back up. I sat back on my chair, brows furrowed. He was gone. I understood how he’d found me in the network. What I didn’t understand was why.

“Hi, I’m Christopher.” A man with big curly hair and a goatee came up from behind me.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” I stood to shake his hand. According to the paperwork I was given this morning, this was my new boss.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stop by earlier. It’s been a crazy day.”

“No worries. I’ve been keeping busy.” I patted the tottering stack of contracts on my desk.

“Well, you can finish those later. Come on.” He waved for me to follow.

I had no idea where we were going, but I grabbed my notebook and pen just in case. We strode to the opposite end of the building, where a glass-paneled office took up the entire width of the floor. Through the first door, we reached the receptionist area, where a woman my age sat and manned the phone.

“Is she ready for us?” Christopher asked, turning to me when the woman picked up the phone. “Bridget Cole is the president of the company. She likes to meet all new employees. She asked to see you. It’ll be quick.” He gave me a reassuring wink.

I nodded, surveying the office. Something about it screamed Cole. Why was he not here? Now that I thought about it, he spent most of his time at home.

“Go ahead.” The receptionist led us into Bridget’s office and closed the door behind us.

Christopher stopped fidgeting long enough to introduce me.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I shook her cold and bony hand with my clammy one.

Bridget responded with a formal, curt nod. For someone who liked to meet her employees, she certainly didn’t seem too interested in me. She leaned on her desk and hit the pager button on her phone.

“Still waiting on that coffee.” She released the button and smoothed out her dark pantsuit before she faced Christopher. “Did you get those new usage reports squared away?” Her large, deep blue eyes trained on him so intently I shuffled closer to my boss. When he didn’t answer right away, she pursed her lips into a thin line and blinked slowly, which accentuated the hollow of her cheekbones. She pushed a crispy blond ringlet away from her face, where it stayed suspended near her ear. Similar curls covered her entire head. All neatly pressed and hair-sprayed. Her makeup was in the same style, with perfectly penciled eyebrows and glossy dark-cherry lips.

“You got your body,” she said. “Don’t tell me you still can’t do it.”

Christopher peeked at me, his eyebrows pinched together. I figured I was the body she was referring to. He hadn’t had time to walk me through the old reports, let alone the new ones. I understood his hesitation—the woman was terrifying.

“I should have the additional ten reports configured by the end of the week.”

Shaking her head, she tightened her grip on the edge of the desk and gave him another slow blink. Her hair didn’t move an inch except for the one ringlet, which she put away from her face again. “We’ve talked about this multiple times.”

He did several quick, sharp nods. “We will have those configured by Friday.”

“Oh good, you’re back,” she said over our heads. “I can’t get this ridiculous machine to work.”

The receptionist rushed to the espresso machine in the corner of the office where a butler’s pantry was set up. She knocked a couple of shot glasses over as she rummaged through the cupboards. With every door she opened, she glanced our way, cheeks blotchy and shiny. I stepped toward her, but Christopher put out his hand at waist level to cut me off.

“Make it a quad,” Bridget said.

A quad americano. Cole’s coffee drink. My stomach did a quick somersault. Bridget Cole. Was she family or—

“Anything else?” Bridget asked Christopher, bringing me back.

“No, we’re good.” He hugged his binder to his chest. A smile touched his lips for a second.

“It was nice meeting you,” I said.

She didn’t look away from the computer as she typed. “Stay.”

I turned to Christopher. Did she mean him or me?

He gave me a one-shoulder shrug and stepped forward. “You have—”

“Not you. Her.” She kept her eyes on her screen.

“Okay. Come find me when you’re done.” Good luck, he mouthed before he spun and scurried out with the receptionist on his heels.

When he closed the door, Bridget looked away from her computer. My ears turned hot under her gaze. Yeah, no one could say no to this woman. In a screwed-up way, a part of me wanted to be like her.

“I was going through your employee profile this morning.”

I nodded, gripping the back of the chair.

“When did you move into my cottage?”

“I’m sorry?” Holy shit. Her cottage? She built the cottage? Her eyes bored into mine. I couldn’t stand it, so I focused on my shoes instead. My heart did pirouettes somewhere by my feet. Something big had happened in that house—the hole in the wall, the broken shower. Did she have anything to do with that? “Um. Cole leased the place to me last week.”

“Cole? Well, that didn’t take him long, did it?” She raised an eyebrow, gritting her teeth. “Are you sleeping with him?”

“No.” My voice went up an octave. This wasn’t how I wanted my first day on the job to go. I swallowed and hid a trembling hand behind my skirt. “I promise. This is a strictly professional arrangement.”

She smiled at me, the hard lines around her mouth gone. “You have nothing to be worry about. You probably didn’t know Derek had no authority to lease the property. Not until our divorce has been settled and ownership of the property has been determined. Am I right?”

I gave her three quick nods. Holy shit, Cole’s married.

“I like to take care of my employees. Don’t worry. I won’t kick you out onto the street.” She laughed as if she’d told a really funny joke, and I wanted to crawl under the carpet and never come out. “I’d like to ask you for a small favor, though.”

I exhaled. “Of course. Anything.”

“I need you to sleep with my husband.” She paused, and our gazes locked.

My stomach rolled before it dropped to the floor. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come out. Holy shit. What?

“That’s just a suggestion, of course. Feel free to improvise. I figured you’d be a good distraction. I need you to convince Derek to sign the divorce papers before the end of the month.”

My throat ached, thick and raw. “I’m sorry, but Cole…Mr. Cole and I are not. We’re not. I mean, I don’t think…” I swallowed and cleared my throat. “I mean, why would he listen to me?”

She let out a shrill laugh. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” She pursed her lips and dropped her gaze to my chest. “I’d hate to have to void your lease.”

I crossed my arms, shuffling away from her. “We haven’t…done anything.” But that wasn’t entirely true. This was insane, a joke.

“Let me know when it’s done.” She turned her attention to the monitor.

What the hell was I supposed to do with this? I had no idea what was going on between Cole and Bridget. And I sure as hell had no right to meddle in Cole’s private life. If he hadn’t signed the divorce papers, there had to be a good reason for it. He helped me when I needed it most. I couldn’t betray his trust. Of course, that would be assuming Bridget was right and I had the ability to convince Cole to sign his divorce papers before the end of the month, in two weeks to be exact. That was a big, no, a colossal assumption on her part.

This much was clear to me—Bridget Cole wasn’t one for making empty threats. And she’d threatened to take away everything I’d worked so hard for. Max was coming home in three days. I couldn’t lose it all before he got here. Shit.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” she asked, typing fast on her keyboard.

My body jerked at her words. “No. I’m sorry. I’ll go now.” By some miracle, my stiff legs carried me out of her office.

When I got back to my desk, Christopher was there. “What did she want? She’s so intense, isn’t she?”

“Just wanted to welcome me. That’s all.” I gave him a nervous laugh. “I thought you said I had nothing to worry about. She’s scary.” Or more like freaking insane.

“I didn’t want to spook you.” He sat on my desk, patting his forehead with the back of his hand. “But now that the worst part is over, we can get to work.”

“Sure.” I plastered a smile on. “If you show me the reports, I can start the programming for them.”

“You just made my day.” He jumped to his feet. “I’ll be right back with both, the old and new. I’m warning you, though. The new ones are all screwy. God, I miss Cole. He never would’ve agreed to any of this. It’s like she wants us to fail,” he mumbled as he stomped away.

I sat on my chair, heart pumping so hard all other noises around me were muted. What just happened? I ran both hands through my hair and swallowed my tears. The black screen appeared again. I think it was safe to assume that Cole could not only direct message me but also see me.

—You haven’t run out the door. Good.—

—I met our esteemed president. Any relation?—

—Sort of. Wife. Ex-wife, really.—

I crossed my arms, back muscles painfully tight. I’d hoped he’d say she was lying about being married to him. I couldn’t picture someone like Bridget with Cole. An odd arrangement for sure. Did he love her? Is that why he punched a hole through the wall?

—You still there?—

—You know I am.—

—I gave that one away too soon, didn’t I?—

—I have to get back to work.—

—Sure. I’ll see you tonight.—

The Windows screen came back on after his seemingly harmless good-bye. I stared at my computer, my mouth hanging open. Did he want to see me tonight? What did that mean? Shaking my head to chase the thoughts away, I grabbed a binder and placed it on my lap. How in the world was I supposed to convince Cole to sign his divorce papers?

He’s going to hate me.