Page 40 of Trust Me
“I know Waterson’s people are nervous,” Barry mentions. “I’ve gotten a few emails about overlapping positions already. Some are thinking their roles will become obsolete.”
“That’s typical thinking when it comes to these types of things. But we all know you could never become obsolete, Barry.”
That garners a few laughs from everyone. Among the serious back and forth, there are jokes here and there.
“What the hell is going on?” Kyle’s deep voice breaks up the rhythm of the conversation.
Barry clears his throat and looks like a school kid who’s been thoroughly scolded by his teacher instead of a man twice Kyle’s age. The atmosphere turns frigid upon Kyle’s approach. More than one of the employees I was joking with makes up a lame reason to excuse themselves.
Kyle’s unwavering gaze remains on me until we’re the final two in the hallway.
“This is a place of business, not a nightclub, Ms. Martin.”
I blink. “Ms. Martin?”
“Is there a problem?” His voice is devoid of any real emotion. I wouldn't say I like this version of Kyle. It’s the attitudinal equivalent of the stiff arm. No matter how inappropriate these feelings are, a piece of me yearns for the Kyle I got to enjoy on the beach in Miami. The one that showed me a glimpse of his lighter side.
I shrug casually. “I mean, you sleep in a guy’s bed one night and suddenly becomeMs. Martin.”
His lips form a thin line, and he moves directly in front of me, getting within an inch of my face. “Blame that night on the alcohol. Nothing more.” His words are betrayed by the way he eyes my lips.
My skin warms from the way he lets his gaze meander my body.
“If you say so …” I trail off and step back to hold up the bags of food. “I thought today might be a great time for you and me to have lunch together. I’ve gone over the poll I took of your previous department—”
His scowl deepens. “What poll?”
“The poll you would know about if you responded to my meeting requests.”
“I’m busy and don’t have time for your meetings.”
“Not even if I think I’ve figured out a way you could cut costs by twenty percent?”
He wants to call bullshit. I can see it. But Kyle is a businessman at heart. And that number I spat out is too tempting for anyone to turn down.
“Let’s do lunch.” I wave the bag in the air. “I’ve already booked boardroom three,” I say as I saunter toward the boardroom.
Kyle follows.
I take time to unpack dishes of sushi rolls, seaweed salad, and bottles of water that I purchased for our meal. Kyle sits on the opposite side of the table from me, facing the door.
“You must be busy,” I say as I hand Kyle a plate with a salmon roll. Mike told me it was one of his go-to's. “It’s been a week, and I have barely seen you.”
He peers up at me, his expression muted. “Did you think the COO has time to laugh around the water cooler all day?”
“Ouch,” I mock, sounding unbothered. I place my plate down in front of me and fold my arms. “Kyle, I’m not your enemy here.”
“You’re not my friend either.”
“Fine. I’m not that either. But I am your colleague. For now. You could at least try to make this work.”
He uses the wooden chopsticks to feed himself a portion of the salmon roll. I watch the movement of his jaw as he chews, noting how the sunlight hitting the hairs of his beard shows their blond coloring. From this angle, the freckles that dot the ridge of this nose and upper cheeks also stand out.
“Tell me about this twenty percent expense decrease,” he says.
I sit up and remove my tablet out of my bag. Then, I pull up the spreadsheets and the poll data I took over the past week.
“Before you were promoted to director of operations, you were head of finance and accounting.”