Read Connectivity for Free Online Page B

thing for the room.”
    Cumberland turns and raises a brow. “And the first?”
    “Wait just a second,” I say, smiling. I go out to my desk and pick up the object. I hide it behind my back and walk over to him.
    “It just wouldn’t be British without this,” I say. Then I show him a bright red ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’ coffee mug.
    Cumberland stares at it, then at me, and a huge grin passes over his face.
    My heart jumps in response, as it is a genuine, beautiful smile that he is giving me right now.
    “Bloody hell, Ms. Grant,” he says, laughing deeply.
    I laugh with him, and he’s still smiling at me.
    “You Americans and your love of this slogan,” he says. “I do not understand it. Nor do I get the fact that you put mince turkey into everything either.”
    I furrow my brow. “What?”
    “Ground turkey, as you Americans call it,” he says, putting the mug on his desk. He walks around and sinks into his chair. “The woman next to me on the flight this morning was raving about how she uses it instead of beef. You put it into everything and it is horrible. I don’t understand that.”
    I put my hands on my hips. “This coming from the country that gave the world steak and kidney pie?”
    Cumberland grins at me. “ Touché , Ms. Grant. Touché .”
    Suddenly his phone rings and we are jolted out of our conversation. I circle behind him and pick up his phone, answering it professionally. “William Cumberland’s office, this is MK speaking . . . yes . . . please hold and I shall see if he’s available.”
    I put the caller on hold and turn to Cumberland. “It is Louis Steele,” I say, referring to a lead attorney with Connectivity. “He said he has a very urgent matter to discuss with you.”
    “Right,” Cumberland says. He instantly shifts gears, seamlessly going into the man who runs an empire mode.
    I go to leave but before I do he stops me.
    “Ms. Grant?”
    I pause in the doorway.
    “Thank you for the mug,” he says, his eyes intense. “I shall find a way to repay you in kind for it.”
    I laugh and walk back to my cubicle.
    I am sure you will, William Cumberland . And I look forward to it.
    On Valentine’s Day, I find myself in another dreaded Lincoln Park bar for the evening. You know, to cheer up Emily in the face of the worst holiday of the year for the brokenhearted. Or, if you asked my sister and mother, a tragic holiday for— gasp —single people like me.
    Of course, being out with Reese and Emily gives my roommates ample opportunity to tell me my crush on Cumberland is a recipe for disaster.
    “MK, seriously, there are like a million guys in the city of Chicago for you to pick from,” Reese yells from across the table. “There is no need to get hung up on your unobtainable boss.”
    I look around the bar at all the complete fools surrounding me. Drunk, young, and upwardly mobile. Yes, I have choices, all right. Many, many craptastic ones. Ugh.
    My phone vibrates in my lap. The whole time I have been here with Reese and Emily I have been texting with Cumberland. I have told him I am miserable and stuck in this stupid bar for the sake of solidarity in the face of the Valentine’s Day holiday. I told him I am sending back drinks, I am giving out the ‘leave me alone’ vibe, etc. but nobody can read it.
    Of course the texting didn’t start out that way. Cumberland was giving me feedback on the article I drafted about his office makeover and, as it always did, it became a conversation about everything but the article between us.
    “Quit texting him, MK!” Emily begs, putting her hand on my arm. “This is so dangerous, what you are doing! He is your boss !”
    “He could be texting about business!” I cry, knowing that is a complete lie. “So I have to check when he texts me, okay?”
    But just to prove a point, I ignore my phone for the next hour.
    Which gives me a really twitchy feeling inside. I wonder what Cumberland might be talking about or if he is wondering why I