A knock at the CEO’s office door alerted Mr. Pinkerton to the arrival of Garrett before he noticed him through the glass. He pressed the button to open it and smiled when he saw his favorite apprentice. 

     “Come in, my boy,” he greeted. 

     Garrett stopped just inside the doorway when he saw Fawn seated before Mr. Pinkerton’s large carved desk. He noticed the look of contempt she flashed his way before she turned forward again. He cleared his throat of the improper things he wanted to say about her rudeness and continued to the seat beside her. 

     When Fawn turned to look at who was entering, her heart leapt. It was entirely unintentional. She couldn’t understand why her stomach fluttered upon seeing the man who went out of his way to make her feel inferior. 

     His hair had been the first thing she noticed every time she saw him. She hadn’t seen any man with such long, silky hair. It was thick and as black as the ink she mixed by hand. He kept it away from his face with a band at the back of his neck, the length looped haphazardly but with enough still loose for her to admire. 

     She remembered seeing how long it truly was when he walked away from her in the filing room. Something compelled her to want to touch it, and she’d had to busy her hands with her supplies so she wouldn’t dare. 

     As he sat beside her at Mr. Pinkerton’s desk, she caught the scent of something akin to a rain-soaked pine forest. Was there a hint of ginger, too? And something faintly similar to a flower of some kind. She shut her eyes for a moment and deeply inhaled, making every effort not to be noticed. 

     “I called Fawn to join us so we could discuss the food together,” Mr. Pinkerton explained to Garrett. 

     “Trevor told me why you wanted to see me, but he didn’t mention Miss Fawn would be here,” Garrett replied with a forced smile. 

     Fawn glanced over as they spoke. His crisp white shirt was fastened at the wrists with what appeared to be rare green tiger’s eye cufflinks. His dark grey slacks fit nicely against his strong legs and met short black boots rather than loafers the other men in the office wore. 

     She grinned to herself when she thought of his snide remarks about her clothes when he looked like a modernized version of a palace guard. She couldn’t deny he was handsome any more than she could stop her heart from racing sitting beside him. 

     “Fawn, I sent for Garrett to discuss my idea about the mooncakes,” Mr. Pinkerton was saying.

     She cleared her throat and tried to concentrate on the discussion rather than her unwelcome desires. 

     “Yes, Mr. Pinkerton. I heard,” she lied. 

     She hadn’t heard a word they’d said and decided it would be best to focus more on their conversation so she would know what was expected of her. 

     “I heard you made mooncakes for hospital patients,” Garrett told her. 

     Rather than small talk, he wanted to see her reaction to knowing something about her. He wanted her to know there were no secrets between him and their boss. He wanted her to know he could be more influential than she may have believed of herself. 

     Doug had thought he was jealous of the rapport Mr. Pinkerton had with the young woman, but he assured his brother he wasn’t so insecure. It was more of a safety issue. He had yet to see what made her trustworthy enough for the power she had been given. 

     Fawn looked from Mr. Pinkerton to Garrett and back to Mr. Pinkerton in surprise. 

     “You spoke of how we met?” she asked the older of the two. 

     Garrett rubbed his fingers across his mouth to cover a grin as Mr. Pinkerton answered.

     “Only Garrett and his brother, Doug, know about the stroke, my dear,” he answered. “I don’t have to explain my decisions to anyone in this agency, so I haven’t spoken more about you. I don’t know why you seem embarrassed. It’s a kind thing you used to do, and you saved my life. My doctors even said so.” 

     She looked nervously down at her hands folded in her lap. “Yes, Mr. Pinkerton, but I like to keep to myself. You know I don’t like people knowing about me.” 

     “And why is that?” wondered Garrett. 

     He gazed at her in suspicion of her secretive demeanor. 

     “I’m a private person, Mr. Fagan,” she answered without looking at him. “I’m certain there are aspects of your life you don’t share with others. Would you like it if someone found out and spoke of it around the office?”

      He looked toward Mr. Pinkerton, who chuckled at her sharp tongue.

      “She has you there, my boy,” he laughed. “Now, let’s talk about these wonderful desserts. Garrett, ask of Fawn anything you wish. She makes them in many flavors.”

     “Mooncakes don’t come in many flavors, unless you mean regional,” Garrett remarked as he continued to stare at her.

     She appeared nervous, chewing her lip and blushing profusely. Had he truly hurt her feelings over simply asking about her kindness? There was nothing wrong with being a private person, but it added to his concerns about her purpose for being in their office.

     “Mine do,” she replied as she finally turned to look at him again. “I can make various fruit and nut kinds and fillings. I can make chocolate ones, too. Mr. Pinkerton’s favorite is a new rice flour kind that’s white, almost translucent. He likes the berry sauce I make for them. If you would prefer the traditional mooncake, I can certainly do that.”

      Garrett looked into her eyes aglow with a fire he hadn’t seen since their discussion on her clothes. She was obviously proud of her treats, and by the way Mr. Pinkerton smiled while she spoke, Garrett knew not to insult her.

      “Whatever you’d like to make, Miss Fawn, is fine with me,” he told her. “I’m quite curious about these lifesaving cakes and the buzz they’ve generated throughout the office. Doug was quite excited to know you’d be making them. Thank you for your kindness on my birthday.”

      Fawn sighed softly and looked at Mr. Pinkerton, who gave Garrett a large grin. The two were close and she began to worry what would happen to her if this favored employee ever wanted her gone. 

     She looked at her watch and chewed on her tongue as she read 12:24. All she could think about was getting home and texting Zhù. She needed her only friend, and she needed to cry.