Picture This (Bryant Brothers Book 4) Page 7

  “Is it Elliot?”

  Amelia cleared her throat. Maybe she needed to be honest with the only person at the office she’d call friend. “Elliot is here, yes. He’s—”

  “Damn, that was fast. I knew he moved quick, but wow.”

  How did she know that? “Have you… and Elliot…?”

  Chelsea’s laugh was mirthless. “Not hardly. He dated my roommate in college. They were a hot mess together. He’s a terrible boyfriend. Hopefully, you’re just using him, because, trust me, you do not want to go down that road long term.”

  She was curious, but asking for information from a third party rarely resulted in the actual facts of a matter, so instead Amelia said, “We aren’t sleeping together. He’s helping me.”

  “How so?”

  She sighed. “I banged up my knee yesterday. Pretty bad. I can’t even walk right now. So he’s basically playing nursemaid.”

  “Seriously? Elliot?”

  She sounded shocked. Like this wasn’t something Elliot would normally do. Which was odd because it felt like he was a natural at this sort of thing.

  “Don’t tell anyone else at the office, please.”

  “Don’t want them to know you really are human?”

  Yes, exactly. “It’s Duane. I don’t want him to know. Or my father.”

  “Right. Of course. So what are you going to do?”

  “Work from home for a few days.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I need to reschedule the upcoming board meeting. I’m sure there are other meetings as well, although some I can probably do via conference call. And I need to speak to HR and get Elliot a laptop so he can start managing my calendar.”

  “You’re hiring him?” Again, Chelsea sounded incredulous, although truthfully, this time, Amelia understood. If she knew anything about his work history, of course she’d be shocked that Amelia would give him a chance. She wasn’t exactly known for being charitable.

  Which was sad, frankly.

  “I’m hiring him on a temporary basis. To see if he’ll be a good fit.”

  “I’m not sure HR will allow him to have a laptop if he’s a temp.”

  “I’m sure they will if I tell them to.”

  “Okay, that’s fair. Do you want me to run it over to you? I don’t mind.”

  That was a good idea. There would be less questions around the office that way. “Thank you, Chelsea. I appreciate that.”

  “All right, after you’ve cleared everything with HR, text me and I’ll head over.”

  With that settled, Amelia called the HR director and convinced her to expedite paperwork, email setup, oh, and a laptop assigned to the new employee who hadn’t actually officially been hired yet.

  That was a fun conversation.

  Was it inappropriate to drink before 8:00 a.m. on a Tuesday?

  Chapter Nine

  Elliot’s jog, while it certainly counted as exercise, hadn’t done what he’d hoped it would.

  Get his mind off Amelia.

  Specifically, off the various parts of her body he wanted to lick. And nibble. Maybe full on bite.

  She was beautiful. And, yes, he was enjoying the macho man act. Carrying her up and down the stairs, feeding her, rushing to tend to whatever needs she had—well, she hadn’t asked him to tend to those particular needs—he freely admitted he liked to do it. He felt important, necessary. Heady stuff.

  Who knew?

  But honestly, that wasn’t what had him all hot and bothered. It was the way she looked at him. Like she wanted to lick him.

  And wanted him to lick her back.

  Jesus, the images those eye fuckings were putting in his head.

  Was she doing it on purpose? More likely, she did not even realize what she was doing. She did not strike him as the type to hit on a guy just because he was available, and certainly not one she was considering hiring as her admin. How awkward would that relationship be when they returned to the office?

  Finally, his calves burning, sweat pouring off his body, Elliot looped back around to Amelia’s condo. A shower, a quick cuddle session between his hand and his dick, and he should be ready for whatever tasks she had on tap for him for the day.

  He slowed his pace to a walk to help cool off, and as he started up the path to the front door, a vehicle pulled into the driveway. He paused, anticipating Duane even though this was an Accord, not an Escalade, and excuses as to why the man couldn’t see his sister zipped through his head.

  It wasn’t Duane who climbed out of the car; it was Chelsea. Her hair was sleek and straight, and she wore a short, red, form-fitting dress and bright, matching lipstick.

  “Oh good,” she said by way of greeting. “You can carry in your stuff.”

  “My stuff?”

  She nodded and waved at her backseat. “Laptop, docking station, a second monitor, all the necessary cords and such.”

  He moved closer and peered through the window. “How did you…?”

  Lifting one shoulder, she said, “Talk to your new boss.”

  Holy shit, Amelia officially had hired him? Damn, he hadn’t expected to feel quite so…thrilled by that news. A day ago, the prospect of going to work for Gerard Glass had been more of a necessity in order to put cash in his pocket and get his family off his back. Today, he was looking forward to learning more about the place and, being perfectly transparent, his new boss.

  He snagged the box of computer equipment out of the back seat. When he straightened, Chelsea stood next to him, close enough to be in danger of invading his personal space.

  “Amelia’s a good person. And she’s especially good for this company. Don’t fuck this up, Elliot.” With the warning hanging in the air like a wisp of smoke on a windless day, Chelsea turned around and strutted toward the front door of Amelia’s condo.

  Shaking his head, he followed. Before she could knock, he shuffled the boxes so that he could reach the handle.

  “Honey, I’m home,” he called out purely to annoy Chelsea, fully aware of how childish it was and doing it anyway. “And, apparently, I brought company.”

  Having no idea where Amelia wanted him to set up his office, he placed the boxes on the floor in the foyer and kicked off his shoes before heading through to the sunroom.

  As he passed through the living room, Chelsea said, “What’s that?”

  He paused to see what she was asking about. “My bed.”

  “You’re spending the night? Here?”

  Did she mean here, as in the couch, or here, as in Amelia’s house?

  “I’m just helping out Amelia,” he said.

  “Yes, but—”

  He strode away. Frankly, whatever he and Amelia did—or didn’t do—was none of her damn business.

  When he entered the sunroom, Amelia was perched on the couch with a smile pasted on her face. A face that was made up with eyeshadow and mascara and lipstick. She wore what he guessed was a silk blouse, along with a pair of black slacks, and she’d twisted her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck.

  He glanced over his shoulder and then back at her. Had she struggled up those stairs without waiting for his help? Just to put on freaking makeup?

  At this rate, he really was going to have to take her to the emergency room.

  “Hi, Chelsea,” Amelia said. “Did you bring the equipment I requested?”

  “He left it by the front door,” Chelsea said with a nod in Elliot’s direction.

  “Oh, good. Thanks so much. It will be so much easier for us to get work done now.”

  Chelsea eyed her knee, but the injury was hidden by Amelia’s pantleg. Elliot narrowed his eyes and studied her leg too. Unless he was mistaken, she’d unwrapped the ice pack. The brackets around her mouth suggested she was in pain.

  “How long are you planning to work from home?” Chelsea asked.

  “I’m not sure. The doctor was pretty vague about how long it would take to recover. I’ve made a follow up appointment with my primary care physician for next Monday, so at least that lon
g.”

  “What about him?” Chelsea asked with a scowl tossed in Elliot’s direction. “How long is he staying?”

  “I have no idea; however, I’m not sure why that matters.”

  “So he isn’t coming into the office to work?”

  “It would be a little challenging to train my new admin if we aren’t working in the same vicinity. And as difficult as it is to admit, I can’t get around very well at the moment. So he’s helping with cooking and…stuff.”

  “That’s a hell of an admin.”

  Amelia canted her head. “Is there something the matter, Chelsea?”

  Chelsea shook her head. “No, nothing wrong. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Yes. You can help deter Duane. The last thing I need is for him or my father to know I’m incapacitated.”

  “But you’re planning to continue to do your job, so how are you incapacitated?”

  “I’m not, not really. But they won’t see it that way.”

  “Is that why you said you’re going to reschedule the board meeting?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, I’m to keep Duane and your father out of your hair. Anything else?”

  Amelia’s fake smile faded and was replaced by one that looked more genuine. The woman was breathtakingly gorgeous when she smiled. A real smile.

  “Thanks, Chelsea. I really appreciate your help. Elliot, would you mind seeing her out?”

  Damn, he’d hoped she would simply leave of her own accord. He didn’t relish listening to another warning not to screw this up. He could see why Maddy and Chelsea were such good friends; they had similar personalities.

  “Sure,” he said, and then he led her to the front door. He could practically feel her eyes boring into his back. He slammed his toe into the larger of the two boxes he’d placed on the floor in the foyer. “Son of a bitch.”

  Chelsea was by his side in an instant. “Are you okay?”

  He pushed her away. “I’m fine. Just go.” Limping to the door, he jerked it open and held it, a clear message for her to leave.

  She moved like she was about to do just that, but she paused and turned to face him. “You have a real opportunity here, you know.”

  He ground his teeth. “Yeah, I’m fully aware.”

  “I don’t think you are.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, he said, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

  “I’m not going to wait around. If I get even an inkling that you’re taking advantage of her goodwill, I will step in.”

  Did Amelia have any idea how overprotective her co-worker was? Under different circumstances, he’d probably be impressed by Chelsea’s loyalty. Except the inference was that he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t capable of doing the job he’d been hired to do.

  And that really pissed him off.

  “Go away, Chelsea.”

  She stepped over the threshold and paused, hand lifted, mouth slightly open, like she was about to give him another unsolicited bit of advice. He slammed the door in her face.

  He walked halfway into the living room and called out to Amelia, “Hey, I’m going to take a quick shower, and then we can figure out where to set up my equipment, okay?”

  “Sounds good,” she replied.

  He paused. “Do you need anything?”

  “I can wait until after your shower.”

  What a relief, because he was not exactly in good place at the moment, and he wasn’t sure he could put on a positive face for her. He needed a minute to compose himself.

  Once upon a time, when someone gave him warnings, he would inevitably prove them right, whether deliberately or accidentally. He’d been a giant fuck-up for a large portion of his life, and he’d not considered trying to impress the person who had so little faith in him because he hadn’t had to.

  He was still getting on in life, nothing truly bad was happening. He had a roof over his head, enough money in his bank account to go to the bar once in a while. He wasn’t like Maddy, who had her entire future planned out before she graduated high school. He’d been perfectly fine with figuring it out as he went along.

  Even when he and Maddy dated and she was constantly riding his ass about deciding what he was going to do with the rest of his life, he’d not taken her seriously. Which was a large part of the reason they’d fought so much and ultimately broke up. She needed someone more like his brother Kyle, who was actually a lot like her.

  But maybe Maddy was right. Maybe it was time for him to start thinking about his future. Problem was, he didn’t know where to start., other than to lash out at whomever pointed out his shortcomings.

  If he were being honest with himself, Chelsea’s warnings were entirely justified. But, damn it, a man could grow up, eventually. And just because history implied he’d screw up this situation with Amelia did not mean it would happen.

  He could change the trajectory of his own life.

  Chapter Ten

  When Elliot returned to the sunroom after his shower, he’d dressed in a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a basic white T-shirt. His hair was damp and combed off his forehead. He hadn’t shaved.

  Funny, Amelia had never thought of simple T-shirts as sexy before. But the way this one hugged his muscles and stretched across his shoulders…

  Yum.

  “Feel better?” she asked. He jerked like a bug had just flown in his face. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. So, computer equipment. Where would you like me to set up?”

  “It probably makes the most sense for you to be upstairs in the office. Although a lot of your initial training is going through a bunch of videos about benefits and compliance and other stuff, as well as an intro to the company. Even though you now have two monitors and a docking station, you really need only one screen for all that. Plus it will be helpful if I’m nearby for questions. So I’m thinking for the first few days, you stay down here with me. We can sit here or outside, depending on the weather.”

  He nodded. “Works for me. Although it sure sounds a lot more like a permanent position than a temporary one.”

  She felt her face heat. “Yes, well, HR was giving me a hard time about assigning you a computer and then letting you work offsite as a temp, so I decided to make it a permanent hire.”

  It hadn’t exactly been difficult for HR to convince her that was the best option. Elliot had more than proved himself as a person, and he seemed plenty smart enough to be able to quickly grasp the basic aspects of the job.

  “Thanks.” He sounded sincere, which she appreciated. She’d made the right decision.

  “Go ahead and grab the laptop and bring it in here, and we’ll get it set up. I have your login credentials in my email. As soon as you’re in, it will automatically make you create a new password.”

  A short time later, he was seated next to her on the couch, the laptop perched on his thighs, while his ankles were crossed and resting on her coffee table. He’d unearthed a pair of earbuds and plugged them into the computer so that the sound of the introductory videos wouldn’t disturb her while she worked.

  After he snorted several times, she glanced over and asked, “What are you watching?”

  He paused the video and popped out an earbud. “I’m learning how to write a work-appropriate email.”

  Her gaze dropped to the screen, where a perky-looking woman was frozen in the act of speaking. “How is that funny?”

  He flapped his hand at the laptop. “The fact that it’s even necessary. This robot-like woman is explaining to me the difference between ‘your’ and ‘you’re,’ like I’m in elementary school. It’s ironic that we’re in a professional setting…learning how to be professional.”

  She could feel her lips twitching. “You’d be surprised by how necessary that video actually is.”

  “Which is why I’m laughing. Otherwise I’d probably bang my head against the wall out of frustration.”

  “Don’t do that. Only one of us is allowed
to be injured at a time.”

  He chuckled and pointed at the screen. “I’m going to get back to it.”

  She nodded and returned to her own work.

  ***

  “Hungry?” he asked shortly before noon. He’d gone through countless videos, had set up his email, and was currently reviewing his options for medical coverage.

  “Starved,” she admitted.

  He placed his laptop on the coffee table and patted her good knee. “I’ll make us something.”

  “Can I come with you? Sit in there for a change of pace?” Or maybe because she enjoyed watching him prepare food.

  “Sure. I assume you can walk to the kitchen now?”

  That was a letdown. She had also hoped he would carry her. “Why do you say that?”

  He waved at her face. “Somehow, while I was jogging, you managed to put on makeup, do your hair, and change into office-appropriate clothes. And I’m willing to bet that your cosmetics and clothes are all upstairs in your bedroom.”

  She knew her face was flushing. No point in denying it, even though now, in retrospect, she greatly regretted the decision. Her knee hurt worse than ever at the moment, and she was still an hour away from being able to take another pain pill.

  “I shouldn’t have done it,” she admitted, which both surprised her and also felt…good. It was nice to be honest and not worry about being judged.

  “Why did you?”

  She briefly considered lying and telling him she wanted to have a professional atmosphere while they worked at home. Although if that were the case, wouldn’t she have demanded he dress more appropriately too?

  And didn’t she just think about how nice it was not to be judged?

  Sighing, she said, “I didn’t want Chelsea to see me in my…”

  “Natural state?”

  “Pajamas. Clean face. Frizzy hair.”

  “I’ll give you the pajamas—grudgingly, because I honestly don’t think she’d care—but you’re gorgeous without makeup, and your hair is hardly frizzy. I think the word you’re looking for is curly. Which is cute, by the way.”

  Holy crap. She had no idea how to react to that. Elated? Thrilled? Preen like a freaking peacock?