Unprofessional (Under editing)

Chapter 20: Tempting

One week later...

7:35 am

I tore through the apartment, muttering to myself as I rifled through the couch cushions. "Where did I put my phone?"

Behind me, Lovey was toddling along, her little feet padding close as she trailed me from room to room. "Mommy, why can't I just stay with Auntie Valerie?"

"Because Auntie Valerie's busy, Lovey," I sighed, poking through a pile of mail on the counter. "Why don't you want to stay with Auntie Jenny? She'd love to have you."

Lovey crossed her arms, giving me that stubborn little frown of hers. "I love auntie Jenny, but she doesn't cook like you do! Her spaghetti is... soggy."

I huffed a laugh despite my stress. "Lovey, honey, not everyone makes spaghetti like I do. So what do you want me to do?"

Her face lit up with an idea. "Can I stay with Iyic?"

I stopped, turning to give her a blank look. "No. Absolutely not."

"But why not?" She looked up at me with those big, innocent eyes, trying to play me.

"Because I said so," I replied, a little sharper than I meant to. For the past week, it had been Isaac this and Isaac that. What was it with her sudden obsession? Sure, he has the face and body of a Greek God, but that shouldn't matter to a six-year-old.

Lovey just shrugged, clearly not buying any of my excuses. "But he's nice."

I rolled my eyes, scoffing. "Nice?" I said.

The man's rude, belligerent, impatient...

"What?" She asked when I didn't continue.

"You're just too young to get it."

She shrugged again, her big eyes saying she didn't agree one bit, but I wasn't about to get into it. I finally spotted my phone wedged between the cushions and snatched it up in triumph.

"Alright, mija," I said, holding my phone like a trophy. "Let's go before you try to negotiate any more surprise babysitting arrangements."

____

Isaac Colins POV

Standing by one of the intern's desks, I was flipping through a stack of reports, occasionally marking a note here or there as the intern rambled nervously. Something about client feedback—details that usually held my attention but, today, weren't enough to keep my focus from wandering.

My eyes drifted, landing on her across the office. Rowan was there, laughing softly as she leaned into a conversation with her coworkers, her expression bright and open. She wore a black long-sleeve blouse and a silk skirt, a striking shade of grape that reached just above her knees. The fabric moved with her, skimming her figure perfectly. She looked...tempting, as if she was doing this to seduce me.

But I'm not delusional, I knew she wasn't. It just seems that way, when really, she's just—well, maybe she was that way. Because damn, she has me speechless.

I glanced back at the papers, clearing my throat. Not that it meant anything—just an observation. Her effortless beauty somehow always seemed to grab my attention; every time she passed me in the hallway, I found myself glancing her way. It was frustrating. Sure, Rowan was striking—anyone with eyes could see that—but every time we made contact, a brush of her elbow, standing just a little too close in a crowded elevator or even crossed my line of sight, it was impossible not to notice.

"Sir?" The interns voice cut through my thoughts.

"Yes, I'm listening," I replied, snapping my focus back to the papers in my hand. But my attention was short-lived, and my thoughts quickly drifted back to her.

I've never given anyone this much thought, it was irritating.

___

Later, standing in the new large revamped break room with my coffee, I heard the faint click of heels on the floor. Rowan had come in, making a beeline for the coffee machine. She turned, spotting me, and did a slight double take before clearing her throat, visibly hesitant.

"Um... I actually had something to ask you... sir," she started, her tone reluctant.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Actually... never mind. It's nothing." She turned as if she was about to leave, but my curiosity got the better of me.

I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms. "Come on, Rowan. Just say it." I couldn't help but anticipate what she might say, watching her as she opened her plump glossy lips, then hesitated, before letting out a small laugh.

"It's about my daughter, Lovey.""She's practically obsessed with you. Won't stop asking about you." She laughed, trying to brush it off, as if saying it out loud made her realize how ridiculous it sounded.

The unexpected confession left me blinking in surprise. "Oh?"

"Yeah. My brother's having this... let's call it a 'divorce party,' and I can't leave her with Jeanette because, apparently, her spaghetti is... soggy." She said with a sigh. "Anyway, I was wondering if you would like to-"

A small smirk crept up on my face and I found myself saying it before I even thought it through. "Sure,"

Rowan's eyes widened, stunned, searching my face as if to see if I was serious. "Really?"

"Yes." I couldn't hide the amusement in my voice.

She looked at me, eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you feeling alright?" she asked, stepping closer and lifting her hand to my forehead, checking for a fever.

The faint warmth of her touch took me by surprise, a fleeting comfort I hadn't realized I craved. Her hand was soft, her fingers cool against my skin. I held her hand, gently moving it away but not letting go.

"I'm fine," I said, watching her face.

"Then why?" she asked, her voice softer, the question lingering as I took in the moment between us.

"Why not?" I shrugged casually, though I could feel the weight of her gaze. I let a smirk slip onto my face. "Turns out your kid is a lot cooler than you."

Rowan laughed sarcastically. "Ha-ha, funny." But there was warmth in her voice, a glimmer of relief. Then she sighed, her tone softening. "But really—it's ridiculous. I don't know what you did, Lovey usually isn't so quick to warm up to people."

There was something unexpectedly warm about that, remembering the little time I'd spent with Lovey. She's smart, funny and. Honestly, she's an easy kid to like.

"Well, I can be nice when I want." I said, noticing the uneasy look on her face."If it makes you feel any better I've had plenty of experience with kids. I've taken care of my nieces and nephew, so I'm not going into this blind."

Rowan's face softened, clearly reassured. "That... actually makes me feel better. Thanks." She smiled. It wasn't a small, polite smile but a real, genuine one, and I felt something tug at my chest. It was the first time all week I'd seen her smile like that, and, almost against my will, I felt myself smiling back.

Her eyes widened, clearly surprised, she blinked up at me. "What?" I asked, knowing what she would say, but wanting to hear it anyway.

"You don't... smile often," she said slowly, like she was still processing it. "It's weird seeing you do it sometimes."

"Oh, is that so?" I replied, letting some sarcasm slip in.

She nodded."Yes. That's why all the interns are terrified of you. Some people even think you're a robot or something."

"Interesting. That's a new one," I said, chuckling with a furrow of my brows at the absurdity.

"So, you know what they say about you?" she asked.

I shrugged, unbothered. "I've heard a few things."

"And you don't change?"

I shrugged, looking off thoughtfully. "I don't come to work to make friends or laugh like a fool. I come here because I love what I do. I've dreamed of taking over my father's company and building not just houses but homes." I said unexpectedly opening up.