Professional Boundaries (12 page)

Just as I was feeling fabulous and the full effects of the endorphins, I was reminded why I had so desperately needed them. As I was walking out of the Y, he was walking in. I just shook my head and thought,
Of course he is
. He’s already invaded every other place in my life, why not here, my happy endorphin place. We both stopped on the sidewalk near the entrance. He was smiling mischievously as he looked me over. I was in a very form fitting tank top and exercise pants. Not something I really wanted him to see me in, but what the heck. At least he couldn’t tell me it was unbecoming of an executive.

“Mr. Greyson, let me guess, you have a membership at the Y too.”

“I have to work out somewhere.” He smiled.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, well, enjoy your workout.”

I walked away without another word, but turned back to catch another glimpse of him in his tight fitting tee and shorts. He was definitely easy on the eyes, but unfortunately he was watching me. He smirked at me, and I quickly turned around and hurried my pace. Stupid man.

When I walked in through my door, Charlie looked up at me lazily as if to say,
You silly woman
. I walked to him and scratched his head. “You’re right Charlie, I am a silly woman.”  He purred in agreement. I showered quickly, threw on some sweat pants and a tee and then warmed up some of the stew I had made the previous night for dinner. I sat cross-legged on my couch, turned on some mindless T.V., and enjoyed my dinner. Then my sister called and we chatted about my fun day. I had feeling she was just calling me now for pure entertainment purposes, and honestly, I as I recounted my day to her, I sounded ridiculous, moving furniture to block doors. What was I thinking?

Just as I was saying goodnight to my nieces, there was a knock on my door. I figured it was my neighbor, Faith, who I liked, but she used me as her second pantry. She probably needed an egg or something. I quickly finished my kissing sounds and told Court and Sam I loved them, then I made my way to my door. I opened it to find I should have just ignored it. There stood Mr. Greyson, with a pint of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream in hand along with two spoons, grinning like a fool in well-fitting dark jeans and a handsome button-up shirt.

“Mr. Greyson, do I dare even ask what are you doing here?”

“Kelli, please call me Ian.”

“At the office too?”

He thought for a moment with a disconcerted look, but he didn’t answer.

“Mr. Greyson it is then.”

He sighed and held up the ice cream, which just happened to be my favorite ice cream ever. “I brought a peace offering.”

He looked at me hopefully, and I bit my lip and carefully weighed my decision on whether I should let him in or not. “How about the ice cream just stays?”

He shook his head at me, but he smiled. “No deal.”

“Fine, come in.”

I could use a chocolate binge after the day I had.

I motioned toward my couch. “Have a seat, I’ll get some bowls.”

In response he held up the two spoons. “Bowls aren’t necessary.”

“Are you sure you want to share ice cream with me? That seems a little too unsanitary for you.” He had worried about those types of things when I previously knew him.

He surprised me and winked at me. “I’ve already been inoculated against you.”

I think I may have blushed; I felt a little heat in my cheeks. What a thing to say. Not that it wasn’t true; we had swapped plenty of germs in our day, but that was ages ago. Sharing food still didn’t bother me, so I joined him on my cocoa-colored chenille couch. I sat close, but not too close, with my legs crossed-legged, facing him.

He smiled as he handed me a spoon and opened up the carton. “Ladies first, or is it beauty before age?”

I took the spoon and scooped up a large spoonful as I eyed him warily. “Either works,” I responded before I indulged in heaven.

He watched me as I ate the first bite. He had a sweet and gentle look on his face, but he kept grinning at me.

I nervously ran my fingers through still damp hair. “What?”

“I was just thinking about the last time we had ice cream together. You were in a similar outfit, but we were sitting outside.”

I wish he would quit talking about the past. It both bothered and delighted me that he remembered such details. I decided to ignore the memory part. “Do you have something against this attire too?”

He smiled. “Not at all.”

“Hmm … then maybe I’ll wear something similar to the office tomorrow,” I said with a very wicked grin.

He rolled his eyes at me, but then he looked at me thoughtfully. “I didn’t mean to offend you or demoralize you today.”

“Wow, you weren’t even trying. You’re good.”

He let out a big breath and gave me his
what am I going to do with you
look. I had seen it before. “Kelli, I just want this company to succeed.”

“You realize we want the same thing then, right?” I took another large bite of ice cream.

He still hadn’t eaten any.

“I do realize that,” he responded.

I pointed with my spoon toward the carton. “I hope you realize too, that I may eat this whole pint.”

He smiled at me and took a large spoonful.

While he was eating, I took advantage of his silence. “You know, you really need to lighten up. First of all, you’re taking over an already-successful company with good, hardworking people. Secondly, you’re in the south, and we like friendly people down here. And lastly, life is too short to be so serious all the time, even at work.”

He stuck his spoon in the ice cream and scooted a tad closer. I almost scooted back, but I held firm. “That sounds like a speech I’ve heard a few times before.” 

“And did you listen to it?” I asked quietly.

“I don’t know, did I, Kelli?”

I nervously ran my fingers through my hair. That was Ian talking; Mr. Greyson was in front of me, but boy did he look like Ian, and boy did I like it.
He’s your boss, Kelli, and remember he left you with no thought at all
. “Um, well, the question is if you are listening to it now.”

His handsome, chiseled-jawline face dropped, and he sighed.

“Someday Kelli … we’re going to talk about the past.”

I shrugged my shoulders and then took another large bite of ice cream. That was a dangerous and painful road, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to take that road with him, now or ever.

“Kelli, I understand what you’re telling me now, but believe me, it’s not that simple. I had to learn the hard way not to mix my professional life with my personal life.”

 “But you ended up with a very successful company,” I countered.

“After lots of mistakes and at great cost.”

I hesitated to ask, but I was so curious. “Is that why you’re divorced?”

He was just about to take another bite of ice cream, but he slowly lowered it and placed it back in the carton gazing into my eyes the whole time. I got the feeling he didn’t like me mentioning he was divorced.

“I’m sorry, your personal life is none of my business.”

“Let’s just say I married for all the wrong reasons, business being one of them.”

I slightly cocked my head. What an odd reason, but I left it at that. I honestly didn’t like to think of him married. It reminded me that he rejected me.

“So … Kelli, can we call a truce at the office?”

I moved my head back and forth as I thought about his request. “I guess so, Mr. Greyson, but I hold out my right to reserve a break in said truce when I feel it necessary.”

His eyes sparkled in all their rich deliciousness. “I would expect nothing less of you.”

Chapter 9

The rest of the week had considerably fewer fireworks and blow-ups. I didn’t move the credenza, which I could tell irked him, but I wasn’t ready to completely give in to him—maybe after a few months if things went well. I even wore jeans to work on Thursday just to test the waters.

He raised his eyebrow at me. “Please don’t wear those to our meeting tomorrow.”

I politely, or maybe not so politely, told him he didn’t need to tell me that.

I was actually a little taken aback that he wanted me to attend this particular meeting. It was with the largest health insurance provider in the state of Tennessee. They were interested in doing a pilot program using our ad software. Boss usually handled clients this large, so I was pleased that Mr. Greyson asked me to join him; in fact, he insisted I do the presentation. Of course he gave me pointers, and he meticulously went through my PowerPoint and notes. He wanted me to script out everything I was going to say, but I told him I didn’t work that way. I always worked with an outline that gave me room to adjust depending on the mood and interaction of those in attendance. “I need to be organic when I present. Just trust me, I’m good at reading people,” I informed him. 

I could tell he didn’t like it, but he reluctantly gave in. I’m sure he had a backup plan in place, just in case I screwed up.

When I arrived on Friday, I was dressed to kill; I pulled out the red pumps and a black dress that said,
Hello
. Mr. Greyson’s red and irritated eyes said just that when he saw me. Yep, he did a double take.

“I know it isn’t jeans, but I hope this works for you.” I smiled wickedly.

He cleared his throat. “It’s very appropriate.”

“Remember when I said you need to work on your compliment skills?”

“To properly compliment how you look would be inappropriate for the office.”

His response totally caught me off guard. “Why thank you.”

He shook his head at me.

“What’s wrong with your eyes, you look terrible.”

“Thank you, Ms. Bryant, for that observation. I’m having a terrible time with allergies; I’ve never had problems before. I even had to take my contacts out.”

“Welcome to the south,” I replied.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

I shook my head yes. “Just let me get my laptop.”

He offered to drive. I gave in and decided I would relent and let him drive me to our meeting. It was kind of weird for me. It brought back a lot of memories. I didn’t have a car my freshman year, and he was my main source of transportation. I kept reminding myself that memory was Ian, and I tried to pretend Ian didn’t exist—only Mr. Greyson did now.

We walked down together and out to his car. Oddly, he followed me to the passenger side and opened the door for me.

“Um … this isn’t a date.”

“Sorry, old habit.”

Yeah. This is why I didn’t want to drive with him, but he opened my door anyway. When he opened his own door, he looked at his hands. “What in the world is all this yellow stuff on everything?”

I laughed at him as he got in, but he began to reach up and rub his eyes. I instantly grabbed his hand without a second thought. He looked at me not sure how to react.

I tried not to react other than to say, “Believe me, you don’t want to touch your eyes. That yellow stuff is pollen.”

Only southerners would understand. Back west, pollen didn’t manifest itself this way.

I let go of his hand and reached into my satchel to pull out some wet wipes. “Here, wipe your hands off,” I said as I handed them over.

He took the wipe from my hand and wiped his hands as he looked at me curiously. I then handed him an allergy tablet. “This will just dissolve in your mouth, and it should help with your itchy eyes.”

“Will this make me drowsy?” he asked.

“I think what you meant to say was ‘Thank you, Ms. Bryant.’ Because Ms. Bryant isn’t fool enough to give someone medication that would make them an unsafe driver, especially when she’s a passenger.”

“Thank you, Ms. Bryant.”

“You’re welcome Mr. Greyson.”

He reached up in his visor and pulled out a pair of glasses and put them on. I smiled at him. There was my Ian.

“I know, I hate them, but I can’t drive without them with my contacts out.”

“I like the glasses,” I said quietly. I probably shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it. He looked at me like perhaps I was being insincere.

“Really, I do.”

And unfortunately I really did. I turned and looked forward and put my sunglasses on. We hadn’t even gone anywhere and I was ready to be out of the car with him. I kept repeating,
This is Mr. Greyson, glasses or no glasses
. I also tried not to remember the marathon make-out sessions that had occurred in his old Toyota Corolla. Boy did I miss that car.

Thankfully, he brought me back to reality when he asked me to run through my notes with him again. I normally would have declined, but under the circumstances, I was grateful to think about something other than him. He threw in some last minute suggestions, but I assured him I had this.

 “You need to trust me. I have this. And you can always jump in if you need to. This isn’t just my show, we’re a team.” That sounded so weird to say. 

He briefly glanced my way. “I like the sound of that.”

I looked out the window. “Yeah,” I mumbled.

The ride was mostly quiet after that, which was fine with me. It confused me when he was nice to me.

He was super tense as we walked in.

I laughed at him quietly. “Is this your status quo?”

“It helps me stay focused.”

“Ok, but at least smile.”

He looked at me and smiled.

“See that wasn’t so hard. Remember you’re in the south now.” Then I inadvertently winked at him. Stupid Kelli. He would probably send me an email later telling me that was unprofessional, but he did smile a true warm smile in response, so maybe not.

“We’re here to see Lorelai Duchane,” Mr. Greyson informed the receptionist. Lorelai Duchane was the CEO and President.

“They’re ready for you in conference room one,” said the receptionist, who looked like she was just out of puberty.

We followed her back and down a long hall. I noticed she had a hard time keeping her eyes off my boss. I could hardly blame her.

We entered to find three others beside Lorelai. I scanned the room quickly to pick up any queues from my audience. I always tried to hone in on who I really had to sell because it wasn’t always the big boss, and it didn’t take long for me to see that was the case here. I needed to sell the hotshot in the corner, Nicholas Price. He was the Executive Vice President.