Read Not Quite Perfect (Oakland Hills Book 3) for Free Online Page B

conference room to Rita, who had freaked out and told her to give him as much time as he wanted the next time, rush color-matching project be damned.
    “The designers are all bark and no bite,” Rita had said. “This guy is all bite. Have you seen that notebook of his? Not a word, just scribble, scribble, scribble. You give him all the time he wants, and for God’s sake, don’t mention me next time. We’ll make time for him, even if we’re swamped.”
    “What are you so afraid of? He’s just a guy in a suit. Besides, he can’t be much older than I am. How powerful could he be?”
    “He’s an ax looking for a log, April. That’s what these guys are. They look for people to get rid of. On his last day, he’ll hand Liam and Bev a list. I don’t want to be on that list. Got it?”
    “You’ve got nothing to worry about. One reason Liam didn’t want”—April had cut herself off here, realizing she shouldn’t tell Rita that Liam hadn’t wanted his sister at Fite—“didn’t want you unhappy was because you might quit. He’s paranoid about you quitting.”
    Rita had waved that away. “Promise me you’ll give Zack Fain whatever he wants.”
    “Sure,” April had said.
    She doesn’t know what she’s asking , April thought now as she stepped onto the first floor. She’d recognized that look of his. It wasn’t the look of an ax—more like the look of a horny lumberjack who’d been in the woods too long.
    Still, she hadn’t treated him professionally, either, and it was time she did. So, assuming he was the type still to be at work at 4:55 p.m., she’d see him and clear the air. She smoothed her hair—hah, that was a delusion—with her palm before knocking on his door.
    His closed door, the hypocrite.
    Why had he been sitting in the conference room a few steps away, then, when he had a space of his own right here?
    There was no response, so she knocked again. The door flew open while her arm was still raised, and she stood there in front of him, feeling like an idiot while he watched, scowling.
    “Hey, there, big guy.” She moved her hand to her forehead in a salute and snapped her heels together.
    So much for the professional thing. She never had been very good with authority.
    His eyebrows rose. He regarded her for a long moment before saying, “At ease.”
    Was he kidding? She glanced past him into his office. Harsh fluorescent ceiling lights flickered over dark-brown bookcases, stained carpeting, and a monster of an oak desk designed decades before personal computers.
    “No wonder,” she muttered, lowering her hand. She wouldn’t want to hang out in there either.
    “Excuse me?”
    “Sorry. Nothing.”
    “What can I do for you?” he asked.
    “I was going to ask you the same thing. I ran off earlier. Rita told me we’re available at any time for you if you want anything.”
    “Tempting, coming from a musical performer.”
    Because he wasn’t smiling, she said, “She doesn’t really play the banjo.”
    “That’s very disappointing.” His dark blue eyes held her gaze. “And the career in space exploration?”
    “Ended before it began.”
    His lips twitched. “I’ll be sure to let either one of you know if I need anything, banjos and space excluded.”
    She still stood in the doorway. Her left arm had gone numb under the weight of her bag. “Great. Then we’re good for right now?”
    He looked away and took a deep breath. “What time is it?”
    “Almost five.”
    “Five.” He stared into space, rubbing his jaw. “Do most people usually go home at five?”
    “I wouldn’t know, I just—” I just started today. Except she couldn’t say that, because he’d seen her last week. “I work part-time. Freelance. In the mornings, usually.”
    He took out a little notebook out of his pocket.
    “Don’t write that down,” she blurted out.
    His expression didn’t change. “It’s how I work. Nobody will see this but me.” A tiny ballpoint pen appeared in his