I bring my cup to my lips and take a slow sip, buying some time.
Zane takes that as confirmation. "Damn, man, you made her miss the KO. Don't you know not everyone works 24/7?"
"I told you not to reply," Crew says, his voice softer. Almost apologetic.
"It wasn't a big deal. I know some of the fighters from living with Barry." Crew's jaw ticks at this. "But I'm not a hard-core, 'have to watch every minute' fan or anything." I point to Zane. "He's the one who insisted we rewind it so I could see."
"It was an epic KO, B, and you missed it!" Zane exclaims.
"We've got work to do," Crew snaps.
I immediately clamp my mouth shut. It's obvious he's pissed off, and I don't want to poke an angry bear.
Zane, on the other hand. . . .
"Chill out, man. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" He smirks.
I can tell from the look on Zane's face that he's baiting his friend. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that Crew's not impressed.
Crew ignores him and turns his attention toward me. I hold my breath, waiting for the wrath and possibly the words "You're fired." They never come.
"Berklee, I have a list of things that need to be taken care of, much like the manual we talked about."
Releasing the breath I was holding, I reply, "Great. I brought my laptop, just let me run out to the car to get it."
"No need, I bought you both one." He points to the two white Apple boxes sitting on the bar. "The furniture is also being delivered for the offices today." He looks down at his watch. "Should be here any minute."
"Great." I don't really know what else to say. He's clearly pissed, yet trying to contain it by getting down to business.
The sound of the door opening has the three of us turning to look. "Delivery for Crew Ledger," the guy says.
"This way." Crew points up the stairs. "Berklee, why don't you set up your laptop. Zane and I are going to make sure they don't need any help."
I nod my agreement and watch as they walk upstairs to check that the furniture is placed correctly. I make my way to the bar and grab one of the boxes. There are no chairs yet, so I look around, making sure I'm not about to flash anyone, then hike up my skirt and lift myself onto the bar. I wiggle to get my skirt to a decent length before grabbing the box and getting to work on setting up my new laptop.
I STOMP UP the stairs, Zane on my heels. I'm pissed the fuck off. I know I have no right, but that doesn't matter. Once we clear the landing in the small lounge area, I turn to face my best friend. One look at me and he's throwing his head back in laughter.
"What the fuck?" I ask angrily. His laughter isn't helping my mood.
"How long have we known each other?"
"You know the answer to that question."
He nods. "It's safe to say we know each other better than we know ourselves, right?"
"What the fuck are you spouting on about?"
"You're jealous." He smirks.
"Jealous? What the hell are you talking about?" Shit. He's on to me. And hell fucking yes, I'm jealous.
"Berklee. You want her."
"She's my employee."
"You want her," he says again.
"You're delusional." I can't admit it to him. I have to tamp this down, this . . . want that I have for my new employee. My only saving grace is that I never told Zane about the sexy girl at Coffee House. I kept her just for me.
"Keep telling yourself that, buddy." He laughs and pats me on the shoulder.
Before I can try to convince him that he's wrong, the movers appear with the first of many pieces of furniture. It's probably better; one who protests too much looks guilty, right? Better to let the subject drop and work on my poker face.
Finally, the lead guy seeks me out. "There are only a few more pieces. You want to come down and sign the invoice?"
"Zane, you got this?" I ask.
"Yeah." He's already directing which office gets the next piece.
I follow the lead guy downstairs and review the packing slip he hands me. "Thanks," I say, signing and handing it back to him. He nods and heads back out to his truck.
Realizing we've been at it for over an hour, I decide to check on Berklee. That's what a good boss would do, right?
What I find has me biting back a curse. Berklee is perched up on the bar, her feet bare, those sexy heels thrown haphazardly on the floor. Her skirt's hiked up, showing the creamy skin of her thighs, and her curls hang over her shoulder. I walk toward her hesitantly when all I really want is to rush her and pull her into my arms.
She hears me and looks up from her laptop. "Hey." She smiles. "All set?"