The sound of Rebecca’s voice, however, does the trick.
“Mr. Hart?”
I turn from Scarlett and force myself to look at Rebecca as she pops to her feet and hurries around to the front of her desk.
“Is there something I can do for you?”
“No, thank you.” Every time I give her something new to do, it ends up creating more work for me. It’s the damnedest thing. Which is why I’ve stopped delegating. Still, I don’t want to hurt her feelings. I gesture to Oreo, who’s shuffling impatiently from one foot to the other. “I’m just going to take Oreo for a quick walk.”
“Are you sure?” She looks up at me, her solemn brown eyes hopeful. “I’m all caught up. My reports are finished, and I’ve already sorted your emails.” She pauses and wrings her hands. “Oh, and I flagged the high priority ones.”
She flagged my emails? Instead of printing them out? That’s new.
“I also attached the agendas for today’s meetings to the calendar invites for easy reference.”
Well, I’ll be damned.
“There is one thing I could use help with.” I glance back at my office. Guilt nips at my gut, but I brush it off. “It’s a little thing, but I can work up a few others while I’m walking Oreo.”
“Anything to keep busy,” she says brightly, earning an eye roll from Jonathan, who quickly adjusts his monitor to ensure I can’t see what he’s doing.
Probably watching Netflix again. Why Beck keeps him on the payroll is beyond me.
“Someone rearranged all the books on my shelf so the spines are facing in. Would you mind fixing them?”
“Your books are…backward?” She peeks around me to peer at the shelves. “Huh. I thought only my kids did crap like that.”
I laugh, remembering the shit my brothers and I used to pull, and Rebecca joins in.
“There have been several things out of place in my office lately. At first, I thought it was the cleaning crew, but it would seem that’s not the case.”
“Would you like me to call security?” she asks. “Maybe they can identify the culprit?”
I consider. Nothing’s been taken. And more than likely it’s one of my brothers fucking with me. Probably Miles, despite his assurances, in which case there’s no need to waste the security team’s time.
Or give him the satisfaction of knowing he got under my skin.
“No need. If you can just set the books to rights, that would be a big help.”
It may have taken me days to notice someone had flipped them around, but now I can’t unsee it and it’s driving me nuts. Because, yes, maybe I am a control freak, but I’m working on it. The Valentine’s social is proof enough. Who knows? By this time next year, I might be fully recovered.
I steal one last look at Scarlett before leading Oreo out, but she doesn’t so much as glance my way.
Which is for the best.
I’ve got enough on my plate without rumors of sex eyes and an office romance floating around, and so does she.
Oreo and I do a quick lap around the campus, stretching our legs and soaking up the February sunshine. These mid-morning walks are becoming part of our routine and I have to admit it’s a pleasant break from staring at screens all day. She’s even learning the route, though try as she might, she can’t maintain the lead since my stride is so much longer.
We’re on the elevator heading back to the third floor when Oreo makes the executive decision to get off on two, strutting after a woman with a tray of coffee from the cart outside. I have no choice but to follow. It’s that or lose my dog and her leash when the door slides shut.
Who knew such a small body could contain so much attitude?
“One lap around the floor,” I tell her, tugging gently on the leash. “Then it’s back upstairs for us.”
The woman with the coffee laughs under her breath and says, “The only thing missing is her crown.”
“Tell me about it. I’m not sure if I’m walking her or if she’s walking me.”
