Page 8 of One Little Favor
It’s hard to tell if he’s in his typical grump mode where he barely acknowledges your presence, or if he’s trying to avoid looking at my high-waisted leggings and a cropped tank top.
“Sure, boss,” I say and he stiffens for a moment, then cracks the lid of the primer open and starts to pour it in the paint tray. His T-shirt rides up over his lower back and my eyes meet the smooth expanse of skin along his lower spine.Look away, Avery, I tell myself.
Being here with him, alone, on a weekend, was definitely a bad idea.
CHAPTER4
TOM
“This is the couch that I think would fit perfectly along that wall,” Avery says as she holds her phone up in one hand and points to a wall with her free hand.
The couch she’s chosen is low with modern lines and a sort of midcentury feel. “I like the color.”
“But not the couch?” she asks.
“No, I like the couch too.”
She looks over from where she sits next to me in the middle of the floor. We have our takeout lunch spread around us, and as usual, I ordered way too much. There are open containers of a variety of Chinese food spread everywhere.
“You don’t sound sure.”
“I trust your judgment. Furniture,” I say, gesturing to my very empty office, “is not exactly a priority for me. So whatever you think I need, great.”
“I think that when your brother and sister-in-law are here, it would be nice to have a place for them to sit.” She swipes to the next photo. “What do you think of this coffee table?”
It’s some sort of non-shiny brass or bronze table with a glass top. Whatever. “Looks like a coffee table,” I shrug. “Why do I need a coffee table in my office?”
She rolls her eyes. “As a place to set drinks if you’re chatting with clients or just relaxing in your office. Don’t you ever want to just sit on the couch and work instead of sitting at your desk?” She eyes me. “Or are you like some sort of automated work robot?”
I crack a small smile. “Automated work robot, for sure. You didn’t already know that?”
“I was holding out hope I was wrong.” She smirks, then she swipes on her phone to a picture of some wooden wall shelves with metal brackets that match the coffee table. “We’ll move that cabinet you’re using as a bar to the other side of the door, and hang these above it for glasses and maybe a decoration or two.”
“Sounds great. When did you have time to pick out all of this?”
She gives me the side-eye. “Last night.”
“You shouldn’t be working on this stuff on a Friday night.”
“Your brother is coming in two days. We need time to order everything and get it all delivered. And don’t even ask me about the express delivery fees you’re paying. When did you think it was all going to happen?”
“I should be the one doing this, since I asked for your help.”
She doesn’t even bother to hold back the eye roll. “Not your skillset.”
“Oh yeah? What is my skillset?” The question comes out more flirtatious than I intend it to, and she registers that fact with the way her eyes widen in surprise.
“It’s going to look great, especially with the deep blue walls.”
I don’t miss the subtle change of subject. I need to get my shit together. I can’t be flirting with my executive assistant. It would be way too much of a classic Shepherd dick move, and I strive to not be that person.
The sun is shining through the windows today, and her skin is practically glowing in the natural light. She nods toward the windows. “And I want to hang wall-to-wall curtain rods above the windows on both walls. I think floor-to-ceiling curtains on each side of the windows will really soften the space.”
“Do I want the space ‘softened’?” I didn’t know this was a thing.
“The curtains will frame the windows and make the view even more beautiful. We’ll do a dark gray to match the fabric of the couch.”
“Okay,” I say as she swipes to a photo of the curtains she has in mind and hands her phone to me to take a look. I glance at the photo, but then a text from her mom pops up on the screen.
