"While I'd prefer to jump out of planes and fire blanks into stuntmen, my company won't run itself," Jacob said coolly still wearing a tight smile.
I saw the anger flicker over Cade's face and I let out a weak chuckle and vaulted away from both of them.
Missy and her assistant, Portia, were watching the whole thing with interest. I didn't need super hearing to pick up on the gist of what they were whispering because it was splashed all over their shocked faces. They didn't get what all the fuss was about.
I swatted away that tiny voice that agreed. After all, both men had been photographed with beautiful women with modelesque frames and ridiculously perfect bone structure; women that I looked nothing like. But then I saw Jacob, staring intensely at a document. I knew that gaze. Those eyes held the same power I'd seen when he looked at me and told me that I was beautiful. His certainty was contagious and it reminded me of the indisputable truth I knew with every fiber: other women's attractiveness didn't make me any less so.
I gripped two coffees from the Keurig and sat down beside Jacob, handing him one. He glanced up and said thank you. When I squeezed his thigh beneath the table, I saw one side of his mouth tug upward.
The meeting was a brief one, with Missy doing most of the talking. While in town they'd set him up at the Today Show and the late night circuit, being interviewed about the film. Once we received any pertinent talking points from the studio, we'd include it in a press docket for him to review before he went live. Missy and Cade's assistant met for a moment, calling Jacob over for a question. Even several seats away I could feel Cade watching me. I pulled out my cell and tried to pretend I was the busiest person on the planet, keeping my eyes on the screen.
"Leila, wait up!"
I was a few feet from the door so I decided to pretend I didn't hear him and pushed into the hall. Unluckily for me, he followed.
"Leila!"
I stopped moving, my heart tap dancing in my chest as I slowly turned around. "Mr. Wallace! S-sorry, I just have a lot of things I have-"
The man had tree trunk for legs and spanned the feet between us in two strides. He was close enough that I could see that all those muscles weren't photoshopped. I couldn't escape the alluring scent of soap and sweat and sandalwood and god, he was all man. I wasn't brave enough to look at him eye to eye and I still felt more vulnerable than I liked.
I took a few steps in the opposite direction as goose bumps race up and down my arms. "If you have any questions, Missy would probably be a lot more helpful than me."
"My question is for you."
"Me?" My eyes snapped upward and I regretted it instantly because I couldn't look away from his olive gaze.
"Yeah." He ran a hand through his sandy hair. "You wanna grab a cup of coffee sometime?"
"A cup of coffee?" I parroted back, dread clinging to every word.
"Or tea or ice cream or something else if that's not your thing." He scanned my face. "Are you ok? You look kind of green."
I tried to smile and reassure him, but I was sick with worry and guilt. I still didn't know for sure if he was coming on to me and if I dropped the BF bomb and he wasn't, then I risked looking silly and possibly insulting him. But if I said yes, I had Jacob to deal with.
So I lied.
"We're not allowed to uh, fraternize with clients..."
"I wasn't offering a moonlit walk on the beach," he joked. "I just..." His face went serious and he shut down, just like he had when talking about his history in the military. "Nevermind. I'll see you later."
He walked around me and I watched him stalk toward the exit. He looked like a man marching to execution.
My heels clacked on the floor as I raced to catch him. He was just as surprised as I was when I asked him a question.
"Just a cup of coffee as friends?"
****
I slipped out of the office a little early, being as vague as possible about my departure when Natasha grilled me like a warden. Jacob had been a meeting so I didn't have to face his questions, thank God. I had a feeling he wouldn’t be a fan of me grabbing a coffee with Cade, even if we’d both agreed it was strictly platonic. It would be easier to ask forgiveness than permission, right?
That's what I kept repeating over and over like a mantra as I stepped into The Roast. As soon as I smelled the fragrant aroma of coffee beans, it was like pulling on my favorite old t-shirt. The Roast was in a touch and go part of town and definitely qualified as 'hole in the wall'. Somehow they made it work, the peeling wall paint mixing with works of local artists and scuffed tables and armchairs barely holding onto their threads. I'd pretty much lived in the tiny shop during the months before I got the job at Whitmore and Creighton since they had free refills on large coffees and I could drain the well dry and use the wifi.
I saw Cade tucked at a table near the back. Even though he was clearly packing in the muscle department, his slightly wrinkled chambray shirt and shaggy blond hair blended in with the surroundings. With gold strands of hair spilling into his eyes as he leafed through a paperback book, he looked like a bodybuilding hipster. I was the one that looked out of place in my silk blouse, couture slacks, and blood red pumps. It was only magnified by my slicked, bobby pinned hair. I debated ducking back to the bathroom near the door and at least taking my hair down. But Cade glanced up when he took a sip from his coffee mug and spotted me.
I clutched my latte and walked over, trying to smooth out the nerves that had me close to spilling the contents all over the floor. I managed to sit down without making a mess or a fool of myself and swiped a hand over my forehead. "Hi! How are you?"
"Glad that you showed up," he said, a teasing smirk on his lips. When I gaped at him with surprise he added, "I know you're dating Jacob. And even if I didn't know you were the 'secretary turned Cinderella' all over the rags, Jacob's territorial glares did the trick."
I sat back in the seat, suddenly feeling a little less like Judas. "For the record, I'm a personal assistant, not a secretary."
"My bad,” he said with a grin that said he was anything but. He gestured at my cup. "What's your poison?"
"Mocha," I answered, bringing the rim to my nose and inhaling deep. "Extra shot."
"White chocolate mocha here," he said, nodding with approval. "Two extra shots." He took a long sip of his coffee, swallowing hard before speaking. "You'll be a double shot-er before you know it."
"Is that right?" I said, highly doubting it. My extra shot was pushing it--I’d be bouncing off the walls all night.