CHAPTER THREE:The Problem With Edward Carter
1292 Words
KASY
By Monday morning, I had already decided two things.
One, I hated Mondays.
Two, I hated Edward Carter slightly more.
The first one was reasonable.
The second one was entirely his fault.
I walked into the office at exactly 8:47 a.m., coffee in hand, laptop bag hanging from my shoulder.
I had barely taken three steps when someone called my name.
“Kasy.”
I stopped.
I knew that voice.
I slowly turned around.
Edward stood beside the reception desk, holding a file in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.
Of course.
I looked at the coffee.
Then at him.
Then back at the coffee.
He noticed.
A grin spread across his face.
“Relax. It's not for you.”
“I wasn't worried.”
“You looked worried.”
“I was wondering why you're carrying evidence.”
He laughed.
“Evidence?”
“Of your crimes.”
He looked at his cup.
“I'm innocent.”
“You spilled coffee on me.”
“Accidentally.”
“Still happened.”
He stepped closer.
“And you survived.”
“Barely.”
He laughed again.
I walked past him.
“Good morning to you too,” he called after me.
I raised one hand without turning around.
“Good morning.”
I heard him chuckle.
Annoying.
Very, very annoying.
I reached my desk and dropped my bag beside my chair.
My coworker, Maya, looked up from her computer.
“Why does the new manager look like he already knows you?”
I froze.
“We met.”
“Where?”
“At a café.”
Her eyes widened.
“A café?”
“Yes.”
“Romantically?”
“No.”
“Did he buy you coffee?”
“No.”
“Did you buy him coffee?”
“No.”
She leaned closer.
“Then what happened?”
I stared at her.
“He spilled his coffee on me.”
She burst out laughing.
“Wait. You're the girl he spilled coffee on?”
“How do you know?”
“Because he told Daniel this morning that he had the worst first impression of someone yesterday.”
My mouth dropped open.
“He said that?”
Maya nodded.
“What exactly did he say?”
She shrugged.
“Something about meeting the most terrifying woman he'd ever seen.”
I stared at her.
Then I slowly smiled.
“Good.”
Maya frowned.
“Good?”
“I'm glad I made an impression.”
Before she could answer, a familiar voice came from behind me.
“Actually, I said you were intimidating.”
I turned.
Edward was standing there.
I narrowed my eyes.
“You were listening?”
“You were talking loudly.”
“I wasn't talking to you.”
“But I was the subject.”
“Unfortunately.”
He placed a file on my desk.
“Mr. Anderson wants these reviewed before lunch.”
I picked up the file.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
I looked up.
“What?”
He smiled.
“You still owe me a chance to redeem myself.”
I laughed.
“You spilled coffee on me, Edward. You don't get redemption for that.”
“What if I buy you another one?”
“No.”
“Lunch?”
“No.”
“Dinner?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Breakfast?”
“Still no.”
He stared at me for a second.
“You really don't negotiate.”
“Not with men who attack innocent women with coffee.”
His lips twitched.
“I'm starting to think you enjoyed that argument.”
“I enjoyed watching you lose.”
He laughed.
“Fair enough.”
He turned to leave.
Then stopped.
“Oh, and Kasy?”
“What?”
“Don't forget the meeting at two.”
“I won't.”
“Good.”
He walked away.
Maya waited until he was out of earshot.
Then she whispered, “You two are going to be a problem.”
I looked at her.
“We are not.”
She smiled.
“That's what people say right before becoming a problem.”
I rolled my eyes and opened the file.
“I have work to do.”
But for some reason, I couldn't stop smiling.
And that annoyed me more than Edward did.
By 1:45 p.m., the conference room was already filling up.
I walked in with my notebook and took my usual seat.
Edward was at the front of the room, going through the project brief.
He looked different when he was working.
Less playful.
More serious.
His sleeves were rolled up, his tie slightly loosened, and his attention was completely on the presentation.
I hated that I noticed.
I looked down at my notebook.
Focus.
This was work.
Not a café.
Not a date.
Not anything remotely interesting.
Just work.
“Miss Kasy?”
I looked up.
Everyone was staring at me.
Edward raised an eyebrow.
“Yes?”
“I asked for your opinion.”
“Oh.”
I glanced at the presentation.
“I think the campaign needs something more personal.”
He nodded.
“Go on.”
I sat straighter.
“The concept is good, but it feels too polished. People don't connect with perfect. They connect with things that feel real.”
The room went quiet.
Edward studied me for a moment.
Then nodded.
“Exactly.”
He turned to the board.
“That is what we're changing.”
I blinked.
He agreed?
Just like that?
No argument?
No irritating comment?
Interesting.
For the next twenty minutes, we worked through the campaign.
And I had to admit something I absolutely did not want to admit.
Edward was good at his job.
Really good.
He listened.
He asked questions.
He didn't dismiss anyone's ideas simply because he was the manager.
And when I suggested a change, he actually considered it.
By the time the meeting ended, I had almost forgotten that I disliked him.
Almost.
I gathered my things.
“Kasy.”
I looked up.
Edward was still sitting at the table.
“What?”
“Can you stay for a minute?”
I immediately became suspicious.
“Why?”
“We need to discuss the campaign.”
I looked around the emptying room.
“That's it?”
He smiled.
“What did you think?”
“Nothing.”
“Sure.”
I sat back down.
He opened the file.
“I want you to lead the writing side of the campaign.”
I stared at him.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your idea was the strongest one in the room.”
I wasn't expecting that.
“Oh.”
He leaned back.
“You're surprised.”
“A little.”
“Why?”
I shrugged.
“Most managers don't exactly encourage opinions.”
“I'm not most managers.”
I gave him a look.
“Clearly.”
He smiled.
“There's that attitude again.”
“What attitude?”
“The one that makes you look like you're constantly preparing to fight someone.”
I closed my notebook.
“Maybe I am.”
He laughed softly.
“Noted.”
I stood up.
“I'll do the campaign.”
“Good.”
I walked toward the door.
“Kasy?”
I turned.
He was smiling again.
“What now?”
“Can I finally get your number?”
I stared at him.
Then smiled.
“No.”
His smile disappeared.
I walked out.
For the first time that day, I felt like I'd won.
What I didn't know was that Edward Carter wasn't the type of man who gave up easily.
And apparently, neither was I.
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