Overlooked(2)(143)

“Did you dream about me, Grace?”

A startled gasp parts my lips as he looks on seemingly pleased with how easily he riles me.

“Of course not!” I sputter indignantly but the denial fools neither of us.

“You’re a horrible liar,” he teases without malice. “But it’s cute. You’re cute.”

I want to swoon at his assessment of me, but I know better. He’s probably baited countless women in the same way. It would do me well to remember that.

“What does a woman like you do for fun?” he continues his disarming line of questioning.

His relaxed posture in my guest chair is in stark contrast to my tightly wound nerves.

I decide to join in on his banter, hoping it will help me relax. If only a little bit.

“Why? What do you plan to do with that information?” I ask a few questions of my own.

“You’re a feisty one. I like it,” he says with an enchanting smile.

Before I can respond to his latest remarks, my stomach rumbles embarrassingly.

“Have you eaten, Grace?” he asks and I swear concern enters his tone.

“No,” I admit uncomfortable with this level of attention. The flirting was fine but now he actually sounds like he cares about my well-being.

Not possible, I remind myself.

“I’m sorry I made you work through lunch,” he says sincerely. The concern in his gaze is too much for me to process.

I wave away his concern, knowing that my face is probably crimson from all the attention.

“Let me make it up to you. Have lunch with me. I’m headed to grab a bite myself and I would love some company.”

His offer is more than tempting but I shake my head anyway.

“It’s fine, Jameson. I still have a ton of work to complete before I leave tonight. I’ll be fine,” I say assuredly.

“Work will be here when you get back, Grace. You shouldn’t be skipping meals,” he scolds unconvinced.

“I’ll have a big dinner. The workday is almost over, no need to leave now,” I reason.

He doesn’t look pleased with my answer, but thankfully decides to let it go. I suddenly miss the playful side he revealed earlier. It is a lot less intense than the man currently sitting across from me.

“Whatever you say,” he concedes, pushing himself to his feet. “Thanks for agreeing to see me at the last minute. You’re a lifesaver.”

I feel small as he towers over me so I stand to erase some of his advantage.

“It was my pleasure,” I say dutifully and the damp state of my panties taunts me with just how true those words are.

“Take care of yourself,” he says as an easy smile reclaims his lips. I breathe in relief at the welcome sight.

“I can walk you out,” I offer, not ready for our time to end.

But he declines with a firm shake of his head.

“Save your energy for work, gorgeous. I’ll see myself out.”

I watch helplessly as he walks to my door and turns the knob.

Before he leaves, he throws a teasing dare over his shoulder.

“Don’t forget to dream of me tonight.”

I fall back into my chair and sigh like a contented high school girl. There is no doubt in my mind that he’ll be the star of my dreams tonight and many nights to come.

Staring blankly at my computer screen I know there’s no way I will get any work done at the moment.

I reach up to touch my flushed cheeks and wonder how frazzled I must appear to others. Luckily, no one is in the vicinity of my office at the moment.

Retrieving my compact mirror, I flip it open and examine my face. My full, round cheeks are rosy just as I imagined. Focusing on my eyes, I notice even my pupils are dilated.

The effect this man has on me is unacceptable.

Trying to regain my composure, I run my manicured fingers through my auburn tresses, situating them on one side to flow over my right shoulder.

I’ve decided to get back to work when I receive a call from reception, telling me that I have a delivery waiting for me in the lobby.

Confused, I walk to the front of the credit union   and see a guy outfitted in a uniform from the deli across the street.

“This is for you, Ms. Chambers,” the lanky teenager says extending a paper bag in my direction.

“Wait, let me get you some cash for a tip—”

“Don’t worry about it, miss. It’s already been taken care of.” He turns and leaves the building.

Back in my office, I retrieve my phone from my desk’s surface and type out a speedy message to Jameson.

Again, you didn’t have to do this.

Thanks for lunch.

He doesn’t keep me waiting long for a reply.

It’s my pleasure, Grace.

Then a thought crosses my mind.

I wasn’t aware that the deli delivered.