"He said he wanted to discuss the production timeline with you really quickly," Harper said in a more professional tone. Oliver pushed off her desk and straightened his tone automatically. "Well, I suppose I should hear him out before he decides to incorporate tartans into our fall collection." But as he started walking toward his office, where Mr. Knox was undoubtably waiting impatiently, Oliver paused mid-stride. Turning back to face Harper, he lowered his voice conspiratorially. "If this meeting runs long, don't wait for me for lunch," he instructed softly. "Order whatever you want from the sandwich place downtown and charge it to my expense account."
"If it comes to that, I will get us both a sandwich. I will just have to guess what you like…" Harper said playfully with a genuine smile. Oliver's expression softened instantly at her playful suggestions, a genuine smile breaking through his usual reserved demeanour. "You are on," he replied, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that made her pulse race. "But don't think I will make it easy for you. I have very specific tastes when it comes to food– and other things." He leaned in closer as he spoke, so his lips brushed near her ear. Then he pulled back just enough to meet her blue green eyes again, his icy blue gaze holding a challenge mixed with obvious anticipation. "Now go on, get back to work before I decide to cancel my meeting with Knox just so I can watch you try to figure out my sandwich order."
Harper nodded with a smile and turned back to her computes. Oliver went into his office where Mr. Knox paced nervously in front of Oliver's large mahogany desk, his usual flamboyant energy making him appear almost comical. "Ah, Mr. Williams… Finally. We have tae hae a wee blether aboot the production timeline fer the new summer line." Mr. Knox said and turned to face Oliver fully. "Mr Knox," Oliver said calmly, gesturing for the designer to sit. "Let's get straight to the point. You have thirty minutes to present your concerns about production timelines. After that, I have a lunch commitment I can't reschedule." Mr. Knox immediately launched into a rapid-fire monologue about fabric sourcing delays and artisan weavers who insisted on using traditional methods that took twice as long as modern machinery. Oliver listened patiently but with obvious impatience, occasionally glancing toward his office door where he knew Harper was working just beyond. His fingers drummed against his thigh beneath the desk, counting down the minutes until he could escape this conversation and join her for lunch.
After a few minutes Oliver interjected firmly, leaning forward in his chair, "Mr. Knox, listen carefully. Our production schedules are non-negotiable. If these artisans can't meet deadlines, we find others who can. Simple as that." Oliver stood up abruptly, signalling the end of the discussion. "Your concern is noted. I will have accounting run numbers on alternative suppliers and present them at next week's design meeting." Mr. Know sputtered indignantly but quickly realized arguing further would be pointless. With a dramatic sigh, he collected his sketchbook and stormed out of the office muttering about artistic integrity being undermined by corporate greed. Alone once more, Oliver checked his watch– one o'clock exactly. He grabbed his wallet and keys from the desk drawer, moving with purpose toward the exit. As he passed Harpers desk area, he caught her blue green eye briefly. "Ready for lunch?" he asked simply, already heading toward the elevator bank without waiting for a verbal response.
Harper stood up from her desk and grabbed her purse, following Oliver to the elevator bank. He held the elevator door open for her, his hand brushing against her lower back as she stepped inside. The confined space forced proximity, and he stood close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "What kind of sandwich did you settle on?" he asked conversationally as the elevator descended, his voice echoing slightly in the small metal box. "I am curious to see if your guesswork is as impressive as your organizational skills." His blue eyes remained fixed on the digital floor display above, though his awareness was entirely cantered on Harper beside him. The faint scent of his cologne mingled with the residual coffee aroma clinging to both for them from earlier.
"Your order is ham and cheese," Harper said confidently. "A man of simple tastes, that is one of the things I like about you." Oliver's lips curved into a genuine unguarded smile– a rare sight that seemed to transform his entire face. The elevator doors slip open revealing the bustling lobby, but he made no move to exit immediately, instead turning to face her fully within the small space. "Ham and cheese," he confirmed with a low laugh. "You are impressively observant. Most people assume I am too serious for basic sandwiches." His hand came up to brush a stray strand of auburn hair from her cheek, his touch lingering just a moment longer than strictly professional. "Simple tastes might describe my sandwich preference, but you are wrong about other areas." The implication hung in the air between them as other employees began filing into the elevator behind them, forcing Oliver to finally step aside and let the door close again. "So, tell me," he said quietly as they walked toward the building's main entrance, "What did you intuition tell you about my… other preferences?"
"Hmmm, you like reliability and stability. You enjoy the simple things in life," Harper said confidently. They walked out the main entrance, across the parking lot and out the gate. Oliver considered her assessment thoughtfully as they walked side-by-side along the mostly empty street. The afternoon sun cast long shadows ahead of them while traffic moved steadily in the background. "You aren't entirely wrong," he admitted after a moment of silence. "Reliability is definitely high on my list of desirable qualities– both personally and professionally." He glanced sideways at her, his expression more vulnerable that usual. "Stability… that is something I have chased my entire career. Building this company from scratch required absolute dedication to consistency and predictability." His steps slowed slightly as they approached a crosswalk, waiting for the signal to change. "But simple things? Sometimes I wonder if I have become boring in pursuit of all that stability."