I arch my eyebrows. “Uh, no. I mean, I haven’t really noticed.”
Finn cocks his head to the side, studying me in a way that feels a little too assessing before shrugging. “Fine. Live in denial.”
Before I have time to decide how I want to react, Finn is a flurry of motion. He plops a chair down next to his, adjusting the computer monitors so we can both see the dual screens, and dramatically gestures toward the empty chair. I smile and take a seat.
His hands fly over the keyboard, my eyebrows shooting up at the impressive speed at which his brain seems to operate. Before I knowit, there is an array of design programs pulled up on the screen. “This is where most of the magic happens.”
He clicks around for a while, showing me the layout of their design program and the basic functions. I blink in awe, my mind reeling as he explains that not only does the company design book covers, but we also make an array of social media advertisements and promotional material for said books. From Facebook banners to Instagram reels, and even bookmarks.
“We also have a website designer, if the client is interested in those services,” he explains, jerking his thumb towards a cubicle where a blonde-haired woman sits. “And once the author has received all their files, don’t forget to remind them we also offer professional formatting.”
It's a lot of information to take in, and I’m grateful when Finn offers me a blank notebook and pen to jot down some notes. Before I know it, my stomach is gurgling and half the day has passed. Finn has just finished showing me the latest book cover he’s working on, some kind of romance series involving a hockey team, if the logo is anything to go by. Two males are embracing each other on the gray monotone cover, and I can’t help but study the way their firm, toned chests bump against each other.
After lunch, Finn lets me take the wheel, so to speak. He guides me through my first book cover. It’s not for a real customer, but it’s still exciting to see it come together. By the time I’m done, my cover has a shirtless man smoldering at the reader, a green background, and a mountain top logo. When Finn compliments it, something inside me wants to puff up with pride.
I wonder if Alek would like it?
I shake my head, trying to clear that thought away as I stand and stretch the stiffness out of my body. My back pops, and I release a relieved groan as I crack my neck, too.
“Jeez-us, not you, too,” Finn mumbles. I shoot him a quizzical look, and he flaps his arms in my general direction. “You’re not even trying, are you?”
“Trying what?”
He huffs. “I swear. You and Alek both. Completely unaware of how attractive you are.”
I avert my eyes. “I’m not…”
Finn waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, stop it with the modesty bullshit. Now, are you going to let me buy you a drink?”
My head whips up. “You want to buy me a drink?”
I like Finn, but I don’tlikeFinn. How do I let him down easily? Wait, is he asking me out or does he just want to getfriendlydrinks?
A steely, harsh voice interrupts my inner ramblings, and I squeak. “We’re not here to flirt with our coworkers, Mr. Parker.”
Finn giggles as I turn and come face-to-face with a very pissed off Alek. His jaw is clenched, his eyes hard as they bore into me. And I realize he must have walked up to us in time to catch the tail-end of that conversation and get the wrong impression.
“I’m not flirting with anybody,” I quickly deny. And for some reason, I really want him to believe me.
“I just heard you ask Finn to buy you a drink,” he drawls, clearly unimpressed.
“What? No!” I shoot Finn ahelp melook, but he cackles maniacally, saying something under his breath about “smoking hot tension”before giving some lame excuse and bounding away.
Traitor.
“It’s really not professional, Mr. Parker,” Alek continues.
Ugh. A ripple of annoyance makes itself known, and I frown. “I’m not flirting, and what’s with the Mr. Parker shit today?”
I can’t believe I’m talking to my boss this way. Why does he make me want to argue?
Alek scowls. “It’s your name.”
“You call everyone else by their first names,” I point out. “And you called me Luke the other day.” It was hot as fuck the first time he addressed me asMr. Parker, but now it feels like he’s using it as a way to put space between us.
“Some of us are professionals. You could give it a try.”
I cross my arms. “Well, I don’t like it. I want you to call me Luke again.”
