Chapter 12: Daring Declarations

AVA

We arrived back at the office and walked in together. We’d barely passed the threshold before we were swarmed by Martha and Tobias.

“You’re back!” Tobias walked straight up to me, stuck his arm out invitingly, and ushered me toward my office with his hand on my lower back.

Mr. Brentstone held me back by my arm. “Go on ahead, Mr. Wilson.”

Tobias’s shoulders slumped as he walked away.

Martha took his place, moving right up to Mr. Brentstone. “I tried calling you several times!” she squeaked, clearly trying to keep her composure but failing to do so. “You had a sales meeting at three!”

Mr. Brentstone raised one eyebrow. “I had a lunch meeting with Ralls. You didn’t know?”

Martha turned bright red. “Of—of course I did. I just expected you back sooner. But I had the sales meeting moved to tomorrow afternoon. I’ve updated your calendar.”

“Thanks, Ms. Hill.”

Martha looked as if she was on the verge of a mental breakdown. “Didn’t you need me to take notes at the meeting with Mr. Ralls?”

Mr. Brentstone nodded toward me. “Ms. Mayweather took care of that.”

Martha’s eye twitched. “Ms. Mayweather came to your lunch meeting?”

“Something wrong, Ms. Hill?”

“No, Mr. Brentstone.”

“Good.” Mr. Brentstone turned to me. “Ava, email me your notes please,” he said before walking off.

“~Right away, Mr. Brentstone~,” I called out in a singsong voice, enjoying Martha’s fuming expression.

“Did he just call you ~Ava?~” she hissed under her breath.

“Huh… I guess he did. I mean, that ~is~ my name.”

By then Martha was fighting back tears. It almost made me feel bad for her. Almost.

“Look, Martha—I’m sorry: ~Ms. Hill~—this wasn’t my idea either, okay?” I tried to sound consoling.

“I’d much rather be doing my own job, instead of trying to take notes at a tiny table while also eating my food before it gets cold.”

Martha scowled at me. I shrugged and walked to my office, where I typed out my notes and sent them over to Mr. Brentstone and Mr. Ralls. Mr. Brentstone replied immediately. I opened it.

Mr. Brentstone

Thanks, Ava. Hope this meeting wasn’t too much of an ‘inconvenience’ for you.

I could practically hear him say it, his words dripping with sarcasm. I quickly sent him an email back.

Ava

I’m sorry if I came across as ungrateful. Thank you very much for lunch, and dessert. I’ve sent Mr. Ralls the notes, as well as the details for your next meeting.

Mr. Brentstone

Good.

I tried to shake off the embarrassed feeling that the email conversation had left me with.

I grabbed my tumbler and walked over to the water coolers. I filled it to the brim with raspberry-lemon water, popped the lid on, and took several long sips.

“Look at you in that lipstick.”

I whipped my head around and found Tobias standing next to me. I slapped my hand over my mouth.

“I totally forgot I was wearing it! It must look awful by now. I had lunch and didn’t even reapply.”

Tobias looked at my lips. “Looks great to me.” His eyes lingered, and I blushed. “How was lunch?” he said.

“The food was amazing. Definitely the most luxurious meal I’ve ever eaten.”

Tobias threw his head back, faking a pained expression. “I’m not jealous at all,” he groaned. “Maybe I should wear a skirt like that. Perhaps then Mr. Brentstone will take me to Cleopatra’s next.”

I giggled. “Oh no, Tobias. If you’d wear a skirt, us girls would never stand a chance anymore.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “I know, I have great legs. I should flaunt them more.”

He pulled up the hem of his slacks, showing me his ankle. I pretended to faint. We shared a laugh.

“Anyway, about last Friday.” Tobias looked suddenly serious. “I kind of got interrupted while asking you out.”

I averted my eyes. Tobias cleared his throat.

“It wouldn’t be Cleopatra’s,” he said. “I could never afford that. But if you’d still consider a bum like me, I’d love to try and win you over.”

I met his eyes, and he was looking at me so hopefully it made me smile.

“It will be hard to get me to revert back to normal-people food. But since I’m going to have to anyway—considering I’d go bankrupt after about three days—I would love to go out with you, Tobias.”

Tobias looked like an excited puppy. “Is tonight too soon?”

I scrunched up my nose. “I’m honestly so full I doubt I’ll be able to eat again until tomorrow evening. But I’m free then if that works for you.”

We talked through the specifics and decided on going straight from work. Suddenly, a loud voice behind me made me jump.

“Are you guys planning on getting any work done today, or should I let HR know you just stand around chatting all day?” Mr. Brentstone boomed.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, looking at my feet, my face flushed.

Tobias, however, was apparently set on challenging him. “We can stretch our legs and grab a drink every once in a while, right?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Mr. Brentstone narrowed his eyes. “Don’t think I don’t notice you guys meeting up here and giggling like middle schoolers. That’s not what I’m paying you to do.

“Or is ~that~ included in your job description, Ms. Mayweather?”

He turned to me, his eyes piercing into mine. I averted my eyes once more.

“I thought so. Now get back to work.”

I grabbed my tumbler, sent Tobias a look, and walked to my office. I passed a smugly grinning Martha on the way there.

***

The next day crept by slowly, but it was finally time to go home. As usual, Ella, August, Tobias, and now even James were waiting outside of my office, talking casually among themselves.

When I exited my office, they all grabbed their stuff, and we started walking toward the elevators.

“Ms. Mayweather, a word,” Mr. Brentstone called out of his office when we passed by.

I sent Tobias a helpless look as I went inside.

Mr. Brentstone was holding two mock-up book covers when I entered. “As an ex-designer, which of these would you choose?” he asked and slid the covers my way.

I glanced at them and squared my shoulders. “Shouldn’t your design team be making these decisions? August is right outside. I could get him for you.”

“It’s for Ralls. You know him. They don’t. Now answer the question.”

I sighed and picked up the designs and scanned over them. “I would have said the one on the right, but for Ralls I’m going to go with the one on the left,” I said, handing them back.

Mr. Brentstone turned them back to face him and then looked up at me. “Why?”

I pointed to the title on the page. “The font. It’s sexier, more daring. I think Ralls would appreciate a little more edge.”

“Interesting… What would you say makes a font ‘sexy’?”

I held his gaze as I replied. “Boldness, hard lines, and sharp edges, I guess. The serif would have made it more feminine. ~Classier.~”

Mr. Brentstone leaned back in his chair and looked at me for a second, remaining silent. “Would you say that applies to things other than type as well?”

I shuffled around, unsure what to do with myself. “What do you mean?”

“Is boldness sexy to you in general?” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the edge of his desk. He absentmindedly bit the top of his thumb.

I felt my cheeks heat up and swallowed thickly.

“Answer me, Ava,” he coaxed, sending shivers down my spine.

“I suppose…,” I breathed out.

“That will be all.” He grabbed the designs and chucked the one with the more feminine font in the recycling bin.

I stood there, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

“You’re dismissed,” Mr. Brentstone clarified, already typing on his computer again.

I turned and walked back out toward the guys.

“What was that about?” Tobias asked suspiciously.

“Eh… It was a design consultation.”

Tobias narrowed his eyes at me and then looked at August, one of the ~actual~ graphic designers.

“You do those?” he asked.

“Not usually,” I admitted.

“He’s got a crush on you,” Tobias spat out. “That outburst yesterday was jealousy-based.”

I raised my eyebrows and then frowned. “Are you kidding me?! That guy hates me. There isn’t a single warm feeling there whatsoever.”

Tobias didn’t seem fully convinced, but he accepted my answer. “Well, good. I don’t need the competition. Are you ready to get out of here?”

We all made our way to our cars together, but instead of walking to my own car, I followed Tobias to his.

We entered the vehicle, and to my surprise, it was clean. Tobias’s workspace was usually very messy.

“I cleaned up for you,” he said, as if he’d read my mind.

I applauded him mockingly, and he took a dramatic bow. It felt good to be joking. The evening needed a little levity.