by Piper Lawson
I dropped into a seat next to him, and he dropped his shirt. “This is ladies’ night, McKay,” I grumbled. “Didn’t you see the sign?”
“I’m feeling especially estrogenic today.”
“That’s not a word.”
“Bet I can convince you it is.”
“I hate lawyers.”
The guy with a few years on me grinned into his beer. “Once more, like you mean it.”
Today’s “team building” had been a major bust. I’d been trying to figure out what to say to Payton, but by the time I’d got back she’d been gone.
“Payton not here yet?” The table Riley’d grabbed sat four, but I didn’t see Payton’s bag or any other drinks. I’d assumed—hoped—we were still on for ladies’ night at LIVE, a local comedy club she’d suggested last week.
“Nope. Saw Max at the office. He said she’d wanted to talk to him. It sounded heavy.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Yeah.”
“You going to tell me what it is?”
“Nope. I’ve already blabbed enough today.”
He raised a brow. “You’re not a blabber.”
“You hardly know me.”
“I’ve known you a year, since Max and Payton got together. I like to think I’m a good judge of people. You don’t say anything but what you want to say.”
“I’ve been screwing up a lot lately. I’m out a friend. And a job, soon.”
“You need money, we’re always looking for help at Titan.”
“I’ll be OK. But thanks. In a few weeks I’ve been promised my pick of admin jobs.” I told Riley about Avery’s offer.
Riley shifted back, crossing an ankle over one chino-clad knee. How the man managed to get away with wearing his preppy shit and not look like a douchebag, I’d never know. Maybe his earnest grin, or those boy-next-door eyes.
“You behind a desk? That’s a fucking waste, Charlie.” I reached over to slap him on the arm. “I don’t mean because you’re hot enough to melt asphalt in a snowstorm. I mean, are you going to be satisfied?”
That was how he managed it. Because he could be a guy and totally sweet at once.
“I don’t have a college degree like you and Payton, Riley. I’m a high school dropout.”
He shrugged. “Max was a college dropout. He jokes that I did the schooling for both of us. But he’s the one who built a multi-million dollar gaming company.”
I ordered a drink from the waitress who came by, turning it over in my head.
“I want to be a Bond girl. How do I make that happen?”
“You need a name.”
“How about Titty Shandazz?”
Riley laughed into his drink, his shoulders rocking. “I’d stroke one out over you.”
“This place is cool,” I said. “Even though Payton’s not here, I’m glad she suggested it.”
“I suggested it,” he corrected. “The chick tonight kills me. It’s like, no matter how fucked your life is, you can forget about it for a few minutes. But it’s the best kind of humor because it’s true.”
I pulled out my phone to fire off a text.
* * *
Charlie: You still coming tonight? Riley’s here
* * *
I added the last part in case it defused her anger at me.
I wasn’t sure whether to expect an answer, but one came.
* * *
Payton: On my way
* * *
We sank back into our chairs and watched the comic.
The opener was a woman with dark hair who bounded up onto the stage. She started with a joke about dating on social media. The fact that we make our best versions of ourselves, that we lie and pose, even though we know people will see us anyway.
“She’s good,” I murmured, feeling myself grin for the first time in a frustrating couple of days.
“I know.”
I watched her for a minute.
“Hey Riley. You think people who are attracted to each other can spend time together—like at the office—and not have anything happen?”
He lifted a shoulder. “With Max and Payton it backfired. But who knows. It might be possible. With them it took a while because they’re both so into their work.”
“So much they ignore sex?”
“Yeah. I’m guilty of that too. Work gives you a different high.”
It was hard to imagine. Work had never given me that. It’d always been a means to an end. Something to pay the bills, something to bitch about.
“Why, you got a boy on the inside, Charlie?”
“There’s no boy inside my anything, Riley McKay.” Though I was starting to think I wanted there to be. “You offering?”
“I don’t fuck. I’ve made my peace with it.”
I stared at him, remembering he’d split with his girlfriend a while ago. “A real, living monogamist. I could sell you on Match, you know. For millions.”
He lifted his beer. “I’d be worth every penny.”
The chair behind us pulled out and we both looked around.
“Payton.”
She dropped into it, her face pale. “I told him.”
Riley shook his head. “Told him what?”
Payton filled us in. About telling Max she was pregnant.
“What did he say?” I asked.
“Nothing. For five minutes, he didn’t say a damned thing.” She was sad, and pissed.
“How could he?”
“It’s a lot to get used to,” Riley offered. “Max doesn’t have the best relationship with his parents.”
I shot him a look.
“I’m sorry, honey,” I told Payton.
“It is what it is. I didn’t want to stay at his place.”
“You can stay at mine,” I offered. “I’ll even give you the bed.”
“Thanks. I’d like that. I don’t want to put this on my mom.”
Not wanting to upset her more, I squeezed her hand. “I’m really sorry about earlier.”
“Don’t worry about it. That seems like the least of my problems. Someone at work knows about it? Well, my boyfriend not saying a thing seems a lot worse, you know? Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.” She shifted out of her seat and disappeared.
Everyone around us was laughing, but we were stony faced.
Riley wore a confused look. “It’s hard for Max. She has to cut him some slack. He’s not going to get on this train fast.”
I banged my drink on the table, shifting forward. “He’d better get it, McKay.” My voice wavered beneath the surface. “You think it’s hard for Max? It’s hard for Payton. Because the woman doesn’t get a choice. You wake up one day pregnant, and you can’t walk away from it. Not for a minute, or a day, or a week. It’s always there.”
His eyes were searching mine, and I couldn’t stop.
“The fact that you’re growing a person inside you. And not just any person. It’s you, and it’s him…no matter who he is. Whether you love him or he thought he loved you or you hate him, it doesn’t matter. Biology doesn’t care. So no. Payton doesn’t have to cut him some slack.”
I drained my drink while Riley studied me with serious eyes. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I didn’t know.”
I couldn’t tell if he was apologizing for his comments about Max, or something else entirely.
I brushed it off. “Whatever. Let’s try to salvage ladies’ night.” I looked back at the comic and willed myself to laugh.
Here’s the thing about a kiss. It shouldn’t change you. Shouldn’t affect you. It’s first base. But sometimes it gets in your head. Just the possibility of something.
Like kissing Avery.
If I thought the kiss would fade from my memory after ladies night? After hours of staying up late at my place drinking tea and talking with Payton? After sleeping on it?
I was wrong.
“Charlotte.” I blinked up as Avery came in the door, looking all business. “I’m running the associates meeting this morning. Armand’s been called
away. I need you to take notes.”
“That’s all you need.”
He stared at me like I’d just spoken Greek. “Yes. That’s all I need.”
Seeing him again hit me like a wall. It came back to me in full color, surround sound. The feel of his mouth, the hardness of his body.
“Charlotte.”
“Yeah?” I shook my head, focused on my boss’s impatient expression.
“Now.”
I trailed him into the conference room, notepad in hand. The full house meant I was squeezed next to him at the head of the table.
Well, if he could play it cool, so could I. We could be all business, no problem.
It was one kiss. I’d kissed lots of guys. It wasn’t as if he’d blown my mind with his conflicted stare and his very decisive mouth and the way he groaned low in his throat…
Twenty minutes in, I was sunk. My hormones and sleep deprivation had joined forces to rebel against common sense.
Because watching Avery run a meeting was like porn.
His clipped tone as he cued and cut the associates off one by one. The tapping of his pen on the table when someone spoke out of turn. The way he’d shove his chair back from the table and fold his arms over his hard chest when it took too long to get the answer he wanted.
It should’ve been unattractive.
It was a damned ballet.
The world premiere performance of Ten Reasons I Want to Fuck My Boss.
“Do we have last quarter’s numbers?”
I blinked when he turned toward me. Suddenly everyone was looking at me.
“Yeah.” I reached for the clicker in front of him and flipped through some slides to the one he needed. Avery nodded once to me. As close to attention as I’d get.
“Payton. How’s retention on your files.” Tap, tap. “Payton.”
She straightened in her seat. “I have two accounts at risk.” Better than the other associates, who had at least ten unless they were lying to make themselves look better. “What seems to help is honesty. I’m telling everyone that the situation was unexpected, but it’s under control. We have retained the best people on our team and are working to add others to ensure the safety and confidentiality of their information.”
“Fine. Last order of business. Roles for the upcoming gala will be coming through soon on email. Read them. Do them. See Charlotte with any questions. This is your chance to help the cause.”
People filtered out, and I waved my fingers at a miserable-looking Payton. My chest tightened.
“What’s your deal?” I asked as the last associate filtered out.
Avery glanced up from where he was stacking his papers. “What do you mean.”
“With Payton. You’re jerking her around, making like you’re going to tell someone about her. Are you or aren’t you?”
He frowned. “I haven’t decided. If it’s relevant to the department…”
“That’s bullshit. The department’s future is not hanging on whether Payton takes a few months off to raise what, judging from the parents, will probably be the next Bill Gates. Besides. Would you do this to your sister?”
He packed the files into his briefcase and I rose from the table. “That’s different.”
“How?”
Avery sighed. “If you do too many favors, people come to expect them. It’s a weakness.”
“It’s called being a decent person.”
He shot me a look, but I followed him out the door. “Payton doesn’t have your luck. She was born with a not-so-rare but serious condition.”
I had his attention now.
“Tits.” He groaned, but I stayed on him. “Which, around here, mean you’re starting three lengths behind.”
I lowered my voice as we walked down the hall, my Balenciagas helping me keep up with his long strides.
“Speaking of tits…” I started.
He pulled me into an empty alcove off the hall that contained a bench and a potted plant.
“Let’s not,” he said under his breath.
I folded my arms over my chest. “You had zero problem talking about them yesterday.”
Avery’s eyes flashed. “First, can you keep it the hell down? Second, we were out of the office. It was hot. We were probably delusional. It was a mistake.”
I scrutinized his tight expression for any sign of weakness. “So when we kissed. You didn’t feel anything.”
“No.” His jaw twitched. “Did you.”
I’m no stranger to rejection. But I hadn’t seen myself getting shot down on this.
I cleared my throat, realizing he was waiting for a response. I could still save face.
“No. It was…yuck.” OK, dial it back, Meryl Streep. “I’m just glad we’re on the same page.”
“Right.” Avery turned and led the way back to the office. He held the door and I stepped in ahead of him.
“Whoa. Something’s different,” I said as I crossed to my desk. I sank into my seat. “Is this my chair?”
He hung up his jacket and straightened his cuffs, making a noncommittal noise.
“And it’s my phone too. My extension’s on it.” I frowned. “My plant’s even been watered.” I glanced up. “Did you do this?”
Avery took a seat behind his own desk. “It’s not a big deal. You needed your workstation. I need you to work.”
Still, I couldn’t help feeling a tiny bit of gratitude as I worked my butt into the familiar ass imprint. “Can’t argue with that.”
“Oh, and Mallory gave me a status update on the gala. We need someone to liaise with the venue and the band. And we’re behind on calls to clients.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Really.”
“Yes,” I emphasized. “It’s my job.”
We worked in silence for a few minutes. I returned some phone calls, rebooking meetings Avery’d missed on account of Redpath’s survivor day.
“Did you send Gerald Thompson and his wife for an anniversary dinner?” I glanced up at the sound of Avery’s voice breaking the silence. “I just got an email to thank me.”
“Oh. Yeah, it’s their twenty-fifth this week.”
He studied me for a long time before nodding.
We both went back to work, and I continued making gala calls. Halfway through my last call, Avery shifted back in his chair and tapped a pen on the desk.
What now?
“Here’s the thing,” he said when I hung up, shifting forward in his chair. “There’s no hard rule on fraternization. No explicit policy that would prevent colleagues from doing anything...well, explicit. But when you move up the ranks, optics become important.”
I folded my arms over my chest, abandoning any pretense of working. “I’ve never heard you use so many words to say nothing at all. Everyone around here’s so damned careful about following the rules this week. Just say what you mean.”
“I’m saying people notice who you fuck.”
I hid my surprise at his immediate retort, reaching for a stack of papers in my inbox. “And who do you fuck, Avery?”
His gaze narrowed. “Lately? No one.”
“Because you’re working on this top secret program that’s going to redefine Alliance.”
“Because I don’t believe in fucking one person when you’re thinking about someone else.”
The papers spilled from my fingers and drifted to the floor.
By the time I’d collected them, his level gaze was still on me.
If Avery’d been trying to get a reaction, he’d sure as hell succeeded. In fact, the words had derailed any hope of productive thinking for the next hour.
Maybe year.
“Right.” I cleared my throat. I should let it go. Ignore it.
Instead, I asked, “And the person you’ve been thinking about is someone you shouldn’t think about that way.”
“Correct.”
“How long have you been…thinking about this person.”
“A while.” Avery’s gravelly voice dragged
down my spine. I nodded because I didn’t trust myself to speak.
“So when you said you didn’t feel anything when we kissed?”
“You’re almost as bad a liar as I am.”
In retrospect, there were a million brave or cool things I could’ve done. But my brain felt like it had the processing power of an almond.
I shoved out of my chair.
“Where are you going?” he demanded as I shouldered my bag.
“To pick up lunch. The deli down the block. I can bring you something.”
“Yes. Thanks.”
I reached for my pen, dropped it into my purse. Something to keep my hands busy. So I didn’t have to meet his stare. “How about roast beef, extra pickles, hold the horseradish.”
“That’s my favorite.”
“I know.” I grabbed a stack of sticky notes and tossed them into my bag too. Good to be prepared.
I risked a glance over to see him cock his head, meeting my gaze over the top of his monitor.
“You never get it for me.”
“Things change.”
His attention had me squirming.
“Yes. They do. Charlotte?”
“Mhmm?”
Avery looked pointedly at my purse and I followed his gaze.
Jesus, did I just put my stapler in there? I fished it out and dropped it back on the desk, flushing. “I don’t need that.”
“Probably not,” he agreed.
I was out the door in a flash.
The only thing that affected me more than my boss’s derisive glares?
The smoldering ones.
11
Strippers and Blow
“The fuck you doing, woman?”
“Watch the f-bombs, Alistair,” I cautioned. “It’s not good for Tammy’s blood pressure.”
“She’s stepping on my feet.”
“Maybe she has a crush on you.”
“I heard that. I’m not that deaf.”
Grams cackled from her chair in the corner, while four couples turned in circles to the steady music.
I’d spent the rest of the day making calls for the gala and getting briefed by Mallory on the responsibilities of coordinating with the band and the venue. Avery’d been out in meetings most of the afternoon, which was a boon.