Deflated, and a little embarrassed, I stood up, too, at the subtle rejection and hint for me to leave. “Oh, of course. I’ll see you next week.”
“Have a good weekend.” He held the door open but wouldn’t meet my gaze.
“Yeah, you too,” I muttered, hurrying to collect my things so I could get the hell out of there.
“You’re a sweet kid, Evan.”
Ugh.
Shot to the damn heart.
However, hours later, after the mortification left me, determination returned.
I didn’t imagine that moment on the couch between us.
And Reid’s response felt a little contrived. Like he was trying to put distance between us.
Maybe I was a nutter and completely wrong.
But I had hope that I wasn’t.
And I had time to prove to Reid that I was a woman. A mature woman.
The right woman.
Chapter Three
REID
Mid-November
I was distracted.
Evan was distracting me.
And the level of distraction was irritating.
We crowded around the small conference room table. Kerry, my events coordinator, my sales and marketing team, and George, my general manager.
At my side, of course, was Evan, my personal assistant.
That alone made Evan off-limits.
The fact that she was my best friend’s wee sister and twelve years my junior made her forbidden.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
It was the forbidden thing, I told myself.
That was what was making me hot.
Not the way her skirt molded to an arse that was surprisingly round and luscious. Or the way her curvy hips accentuated how tiny her waist was. I could probably span it with my hands. I’d watched her sashay ahead of me into the conference room, mesmerized by the exaggerated feminine shape of her. I’d heard Evan complain to her mum about her hips and thighs as if they were a bad thing.
“If God was going to give me curves, why couldn’t he give me boobs?” I’d overheard her moan to Jen, Pat and Evan’s mother.
The memory had me flicking a surreptitious look at my PA’s chest before glancing quickly away. Small but perfectly formed breasts strained against the tight fit of her black shirt.
Why had I never noticed how fucking gorgeously made Evan Munro was until last month?
Okay, not gonna lie, I’m a man—I noticed her arse around the year she turned eighteen.
But only in passing, as a man is wont to notice an exceptional arse.
Now her arse was an obsession.
Ever since we had that drink in my office, something had changed between us. This tension needed to evaporate because it was playing havoc with me.
“Haven’t you ever met a woman who made you lose your common sense? Who made your skin hot and your blood pump and everything else but kissing her, touching her, ceased to matter?”
Not until now.
It was like her question had created a monster between us.
Evan took a sip of coffee from the mug she’d brought from home. It had arrows pointing upward and beneath it the words, “This is what an Awesome Employee looks like.”
Fuck, she was adorable.
My eyes drifted to her mouth as she licked the coffee off her lips.
Everything about Evan, other than her hips and spectacular arse, was delicate and stunning. She had Jen’s doll-like features, large, beautiful, thickly lashed dark eyes, a button nose, and a small but very kissable mouth. Evan’s chin was a little pointed, giving her a mischievous quality that only made me think very bad thoughts.
“… Mr. Shaw?”
Realizing my name had been said, I looked blankly over at Kerry. “Sorry?”
She flicked Evan a strange look before turning back to me.
I tried not to squirm over my event coordinator’s suspicious gaze.
“I asked if you were happy for us to post a competition on Instagram for locals to enter to win a chance to watch the Christmas tree being piped in?”
The Christmas tree at Shaw’s was an event in itself. We had to remove the side door to the building, and a crew of men carried the forty-foot tree into the store’s atrium. It was then erected by the use of pulleys while people rappelled from the ceiling to decorate it in fairy lights. We had a bagpiper pipe in the tree, and I invited staff to watch.
“Aye, that’s fine,” I replied. “Only two winners and their plus-ones.”
Kerry opened her mouth to protest. I cut her off. “Part of the magic is customers asking how we get the tree into the store. They prefer the staff’s tall tales to reality.”
“Reality is pretty impressive, too, Mr. Shaw,” she argued.
“I said no.”
“Okay. Two winners and their plus-ones.”
“Now the sale,” I said, determined to focus on anything but the petite woman at my side who smelled bloody amazing. Three weeks ago, I’d caught Evan in the perfume department mooning over a perfume called Black Opium by YSL. It was one of the more expensive ones, and she bemoaned its price. It irritated me that Evan wouldn’t buy herself the perfume, even with her discount. I’d picked up a box and told Greta, one of the staff in the perfume department, to add it to my tab.
Evan had looked dumbfounded by the gift.
Not wanting her to read too much into it, I casually called it a bonus and walked away before she could question me.
Now she wore the perfume every day. It had a heady, musky scent that made a man want to chase it with his tongue.
Fuck.
Patrick would kill me if he ever guessed what ran through my mind when I thought about his wee sister.
And I’d deserve to die.
Slowly. Painfully.
Suddenly, the door to the conference room flew open and a red-faced boy in the store’s uniform stood panting in the doorway. I tried to remember his name and failed.
“Mr. Shaw.” His eyes were round with panic. “We’ve had to call for an ambulance. Customer down in the men’s department.”
Shit.
I stood up, pushing my chair away with force. “George, Evan, with me,” I demanded, hurrying out of the room with my manager and Evan at my back.
The whole time we stood in the elevator waiting for it to reach the men’s department floor, I wondered what the hell I was going to do. We’d had fainting spells in the store before, but never someone who required an ambulance.
As it turned out, I didn’t need to do anything.
Evan pushed past us, striding after the junior staff member who’d alerted us to the situation.
By the time George and I caught up, Evan was kneeling beside a man perhaps in his late fifties who was sitting on the floor, gray-faced and clammy. A woman of similar age stood to the side with Alan, the men’s department manager, looking ready to pass out with worry.
Evan placed a reassuring hand on the man’s chest. “What’s your name, sir?” she asked softly.
“Gerald,” he wheezed out.
“Hi, Gerald, I’m Evan. Are you experiencing chest pain?”
He nodded.
“And breathlessness?”
He nodded again, wincing.
“Are you allergic to aspirin?”
Gerald shook his head.
“Good.” Evan turned toward George. “Run to the pharmacy as quickly as you can and grab a packet of aspirin and some water. And make sure the side entrance isn’t blocked for the ambulance.”