Dust of Snow (5 page)

“I don’t mind. He’s lovely.”

“
Hmpf
. I suppose.” I glared at the
feline.

Ashley laughed. “You have a nice home.”

“Thanks.” I traced the crease of the tile
with my toe, my socks sliding easily. It was my kitchen, but it was
strange to have someone else in it again. Strange, but nice.

“You really don’t mind that I helped myself?”
He held his mug up again as I drank from mine. Black with a little
bit of sugar, just as I liked it. “I couldn’t resist the
smell.”

“It’s fine, really. I told you to make
yourself comfortable.” Something occurred to me rather belatedly.
“How did you know my address?”

“Oh.” Ashley laughed a little
self-consciously. He dipped his head, hiding his dimples from view.
“I asked Sonny.”

“From HR?”

“Yeah.”

“And he
told
you?”

“In his defense, I said I needed it for
Christmas cards.”

I stared. “You see me at work every day.”

He laughed again. “I know.”

“Words will be had,” I muttered. Even though
I didn’t mind Ashley knowing where I lived, Sonny couldn’t just go
around handing out private information like that.

“I didn’t mean to get him into trouble.”

“You knew you would, though.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, drinking his coffee, his
eyes on the floor.

“Why not just ask me?”

“I was curious where you lived after you said
it was so close by. I didn’t want you to think I was prying by
asking you.”

“So you asked HR,” I said disbelievingly, but
I laughed.

Obviously relieved, Ashley laughed too. I
liked the sound of it between my walls. “Not my brightest moment, I
admit.”

“No.” But a disarmingly honest one. He could
probably be ruled out as my trickster, if he confessed all his sins
like this. I drained my mug. “We should get going or we’ll be
late.”

“Is Carl hard on you if you are?”

“No, not at all.” I took his empty mug and
put it in the dishwasher along with mine. “He’s a great boss.”

“Yeah?” He didn’t look convinced.

“You don’t think so?” That surprised me.

“No, he’s good. You’re right.” Ashley turned
toward the garage and I went along, stepping into my shoes in the
mudroom. “Can we stop along the way for more coffee?” he asked.

I smirked. “You’re as addicted as I am.”

“The coffee at work sucks. You should tell
Carl that.”

“I will test the power I hold,” I promised,
and we climbed into my car. It wasn’t a bad way to start a
morning.

THREE

NO COFFEE OR gifts awaited me that morning, but
around ten thirty a guy in a brown uniform wound his way through
the cubicles, half of his body hidden by a giant bouquet of roses.
At first I was as amused as everyone else craning their necks to
watch his progress, like the guy was a bear in the wild we were all
watching from the safety of our stationary vehicles. My mirth died
quickly when I worked out exactly who he was aiming for.

“Oh. My. God.” I could feel my ears going
beet red.

Of course, Carl chose that moment to stretch
his legs and step out of his office as I tipped the guy who left
the flowers on my desk. How he knew I was the one he needed, I
didn’t think to ask myself.

“Mister Peck,” Carl drawled in my ear. The
delight disappeared from his eyes the moment he saw my face. “What
is it?” he quietly asked. Everyone was staring at us. He
straightened, giving the rubberneckers a quelling look. As one,
their heads disappeared behind their partitions. “In my office.”
Carl began to turn away and then added, “Bring those flowers.”

Relieved, I picked up the vase and scuttled
after him.

“Explain,” he said ominously. He took the
vase from me, put it on the windowsill, and began to search for a
card. When he found it, he held it up. I waved an acquiescing hand.
I knew what it would say anyway. Carl scanned the paper. “No name
from the sender.”

“No,” I said wearily.

“Tell me how long this has been going
on.”

I told him everything, including my
suspicions of this being a joke. Carl eyed the flowers.

“Expensive joke.”

“I know.”

“Gregory, have you considered someone really
might like you instead?” Carl perched on the edge of the desk and
invited me to sit. I remained standing in the middle of the office.
“This seems to be very elaborate, time consuming, and costly for a
prank.”

“If what you’re saying is true,” I began,
ashamed to hear my voice crack, “then they don’t know me at all,
sir.”

“Carl,” he corrected me. His face was kind
and patient, his eyes were sad, and the corners of his mouth were
pointed down. Instantly, embarrassingly, I realized a very deeply
hidden part of me had been hoping these gifts had come from Carl,
and now I knew that wasn’t true. It disappointed, but didn’t hurt.
My hidden crush—so well hidden I’d barely noticed it
myself—obviously didn’t run more than skin deep.

“Yes. Well, if they knew me at all, they’d
know I hate this kind of attention. I don’t want it.”

“Why not?”

“It embarrasses me.”

“Why?”

I gritted my teeth, trying not to lose my
patience. He only wanted to help. “This is my workplace. I don’t
like people talking about me behind my back.” I used to be
painfully shy as a child, something I’d worked hard to conquer.

“Maybe they’re not trying to embarrass you.
Maybe these gestures are as much for themselves as they are for
you.”

“Then why the secrecy?” I demanded.

Carl shrugged, the smile tugging up his mouth
again. “Maybe they are afraid of your rejection. Maybe that would
hurt them more than they could endure.”

“You are so damn romantic,” I mumbled, but
his words warmed me.

“I am French,” he said lightly, like that
explained it all. Maybe it did. “Do you want me to look into this
and put a stop to it?”

I thought about that, but it would only draw
more attention to the whole thing. “No, it’s fine. I’ll handle
it.”

“Handle it how?”

“I’ll figure something out.”

Ashley stopped by later, scanning my desk
with a little frown. Maybe the news of the flowers had taken a
while to reach his office at the other end of the building, and
he’d come to gawk.

“My sister’s picking me up to drop my car at
the garage this afternoon,” he said by way of hello. “So no need to
cart me around again tonight.”

“I don’t mind carting you around,” I told
him, feeling a little disappointed.

Ashley flashed his dimples. “Good,” he said,
but his heart didn’t seem to be in it. “I’d better get back to
it.”

I waited until nearly everyone had
left—everyone who’d have cause to walk by my desk anyway—then
entered Carl’s office, took the card from the flowers, and went
back to my desk. Just
Greg
. Nothing else. It had to be a
joke. There was no other logical explanation. It was ludicrous to
think I actually had a secret admirer. I could just imagine David’s
snort of amusement at the notion. He’d always said romance was for
chicks.

I turned the card over and wrote on the back.
Pushing away the little pang of regret, I leaned the thick paper
against my penholder and gathered my things to leave. The two words
were clear.

Please stop
.

A couple days later I woke up to the sound of
the street being cleared by snowplowing trucks. I groaned, because
if they were out in force this early, I’d have at least a foot of
fresh snow waiting for me. Glancing at my alarm clock, I realized I
had another half an hour, so I closed my eyes and soaked up all the
warmth I could under my heavy down comforter.

A sharp wind whistled outside, and for the
first time in my working career I considered pulling a sickie. A
personal day, I’d say to Carl, and he’d understand, he wouldn’t
begrudge me one. I let the fantasy wander, but beyond the French
toast I’d make myself, the hazelnut roast coffee I’d brew, and the
latest John Grisham I’d devour, I only saw guilt without the
pleasure. I wouldn’t be able to take my mind off the work I’d be
leaving for other people. I’d especially inconvenience Carl, and
make his life needlessly harder than it already was.

God, I really had been crushing on the man,
hadn’t I? With his warm, catlike eyes and his silky hair. His nice
hands and his manicured fingernails. His impeccably tailored
suits.

No wait. The suits… That was Ashley. Oh,
man
. I groaned into my pillow, and before I could think
about it anymore, I dragged myself out of bed, stumbling into
thermal underpants and my warm waterproofs to go deal with the snow
outside.

And snowed it had. Mounds of it were piled
high along the street. My neighbor had made the mistake of leaving
his car outside overnight, and beyond the shape of it, it was
unrecognizable. More astounding than the pristine glitter of our
lawns was this: not a speck of snow lay on my driveway. It had been
cleared—by a truck, going by the marks—and it had been salted. I
stared, growing colder by the second as my frozen mind tried to
process what I was seeing. Someone at the clearing company must’ve
made a mistake and plowed the wrong driveway. Well, I wasn’t about
to look this gift snowplow in the mouth. Cheered immensely, I
turned around. The extra time this gave me called for that French
toast.

“You’re in a good mood this morning.” Ashley
appeared at my desk, dark circles under his eyes.

“Hmm?”

“You practically bounced past my office. I’m
a morning person, but that was just unnatural.”

“Someone accidentally cleared my driveway
this morning.” I heaved a happy sigh. “No snow clearing. It’s the
best thing to happen to me in ages.” Plus, I hadn’t received any
gifts for two days. It seemed whoever had been behind it had taken
pity on me.

“Right.” Ashley looked pained. God, that
probably made me sound really pathetic.

“You look like you didn’t get much sleep,” I
said, lowering my voice a little. To be honest, he looked like he
was about to pass out.

Ashley sighed and rubbed his forehead. His
suit looked as immaculate and well tailored as ever, despite the
state of him. The purple tie fit the dark hue of the outfit
perfectly, and it brought out a hint of green in eyes I’d always
thought of as dark brown. “Amal’s in Germany,” Ashley said. “He’s
having trouble with the account over there, and he misses his
daughter. I was on the phone with him until four a.m. the past two
nights helping with the sales report. It’s a clusterfuck.”

“Oh no.” I checked my watch. Carl wouldn’t be
in until after lunch today due to a meeting with some big shot from
France. “Meet me back here in half an hour,” I said. I grabbed my
coat and wallet, and turned. Ashley stared at me. “Off you go,” I
urged and stepped past him.

Half an hour later, Ashley reappeared at my
desk, eyeing me with wary curiosity.

I grinned. “Follow me.”

“What? Greg, what are you doing?” Ashley
whispered urgently when I aimed for Carl’s office. I’d drawn the
blinds on the narrow window beside the door, as well as all the
ones facing outside. I’d made up Carl’s large, comfortable couch
with a blanket and pillow I kept on hand for Carl just in case. On
the little side table stood a steaming mug of hot chocolate I’d
bought from the coffee shop around the corner.

“Lie down.”

“I couldn’t possibly.” Ashley laughed, but I
caught him staring at the couch.

“Yes, you can. I’ll lock the door behind me
and get you out of here before Carl returns. No one comes in here
without going past me anyway. If you want to come out, just buzz
me. The number’s by the phone.” Before he could protest, I added,
“I’ll reroute all your calls to my phone and take care of it.”