The Upside to Being Single

by Emma Hart

  I gripped my toe tightly, biting the inside of my cheek. Man, there was nothing worse than stubbing your toe. It throbbed like hell, a dead, dull ache that reminded me of the time I broke my second toe.

  No. I couldn’t break another toe. That was the worst thing ever.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and counted to ten through the pain. Thankfully, by the time I reached ten, the pain was slowly ebbing from “cut it off!” to “can I have a cuddle?” on the pain scale.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  I glared at my front door as if it had knocked itself. Gingerly, I set my foot back down and awkwardly limped toward the door. Squinting so I could see through the peephole, I froze.

  What the fucking hell was he doing here?

  Forgetting about my toe, I yanked open my front door and stared at my boss. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Well,” he said, holding out a phone. “I called you, and right after you answered, you started screaming. Given that I’m already familiar with your clumsiness, I thought I’d check on you.”

  “How did you—what? Are you my neighbor or something? That was two minutes ago!”

  “No. I was outside.”

  “Why in God’s name were you outside my house?”

  He grinned. “I was hoping I could steal a few hours of your time. But now, I’m hoping you didn’t almost kill yourself.”

  Lame. I was so lame. And so dramatic.

  “I stubbed my toe,” I muttered. “Forgot the table was there.”

  “That must have been quite the stub,” Jake said, fighting a smile. “Now, can I come in, or are you going to show the entire neighborhood your nipples?”

  I jerked, dropping my head down and, yes. I was going to show the entire neighborhood my nipples. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and they were apparently trying to stage an escape through the front of my shirt.

  Great.

  Just. Freaking. Great.

  Why couldn’t I keep my boobs under wraps around this guy?

  I clamped my arm over my chest and spun on the balls of my feet. He laughed and followed me inside. At least, I think he did. I practically ran to the stairs and up them to my room.

  Note to self: start sleeping in a bra if it means keeping these boobs in line.

  I rifled through my doors but came up empty. There were no bras. How could there be no bras? I had about ten, not that anyone would believe me if I said so. They had to all be in the laundry.

  I crept back downstairs and through to the laundry room. They were all either dirty or wet. Where was the one I wore yesterday? That was still clean. I’d worn it once, and taken it off—

  Oh no.

  I’d come home, and before I’d eaten my dinner, I’d grabbed a tank top and whipped off my bra…

  In my living room.

  Where I presumed, Jake was right now.

  This…Well, this was just going from bad to worse and back again.

  Clutching one arm over my chest again, I shuffled into the front room.

  “Looking for something?” he asked, reclined on my sofa with his nose in the middle of Cosmo.

  “Um, yes. I left something in here.” Where was it? Where was it? Come on, eyes. Look faster!

  Without removing his attention from the magazine, he pointed to the floor next to him. “Your bra is right here on top of the clothes you wore yesterday.”

  Of course. Of course, it was. Why the hell wouldn’t it be?

  I coughed to hide the fact I wanted to choke to death with embarrassment and grabbed the clothes. Jake glanced to the side and met my eye, his lips curved but twitching like he was doing everything possible not to burst out laughing.

  I quickly turned and darted away.

  And banged my shin on the coffee table.

  I gave a sharp intake of breath, but I didn’t stop running.

  Because the bastard was laughing. Hard. And if I stopped, I’d punch him while I cried.

  I ran upstairs and threw myself on the bed. “Fuck, hell, shit, ass, ahhh!” I rolled while grabbing my shin, then relaxed, huffing out a huge breath.

  I had to shut the door to drown out the new round of laughter from Jake.

  Of all the people in the world who could buy the hotel…

  I shook that thought off. At least I’d showered this morning, so all I had to do was run the brush back through my hair.

  I dressed, triple checking to make sure I had my bra on, then went back downstairs to face the music.

  The floorboards creaked as I made it to the open-plan downstairs. Jake peeked over the top of the magazine. He’d made himself comfortable. Shoes off, feet up, cushions rearranged.

  “Comfy?” I asked.

  He nodded, dropping the magazine to his lap. “I thought I should, given that everything happens in threes. Good for you for getting dressed without hurting yourself again!”

  I tugged up the waistband of my jeans and glared at him. “It is not funny.”

  “It really is. Now I understand why you call yourself an organized hot mess.” He grinned.

  “If I were organized, I’d have had a clean bra in my bedroom,” I muttered. “What are you doing here? Wait—how do you even know where I live?”

  He sat up, setting the magazine back on my coffee table. “I’m your boss. I have all the employee records.”

  “It’s my morning off.” There was no use telling him those weren’t for personal use. I doubted he’d pay attention. “Why are you here?”

  “I need furniture for your—our—office. Better desktop storage for your chaos so I don’t want to throw myself off the room, and a better chair for me so I don’t throw it off the fucking roof.”

  I snorted. “And why do you need me for that?”

  He put his shoes back on and, leaning forward, rested his elbows on his knees. I’d been too busy avoiding looking at him that I hadn’t noticed how nicely that white polo shirt hugged his broad shoulders. The light tan he sported made the shirt even whiter. And he was wearing jeans!

  “Because,” he smiled, “It’s your office, so you can choose it all. Except for the chair. If your ass isn’t gonna sit on it, you don’t get to choose it.”

  “So, technically, I’m working.”

  He paused. “No. You’re…helping.”

  “Nope. I’m working. If I’m with my boss and I’m buying things for my place of work, I’m working.” I leaned against the edge of my desk and folded my arms.

  Jake sighed, stood, and walked toward me, grabbing something from the table. “Has anyone ever told you you’re absolutely impossible?”

  “I was a teenage girl once. Of course, they have. It was my middle name at one point.” I had to peer up to meet his eyes when he’d stopped right in front of me. “It’s my morning off. I don’t have to come with you to do this.”

  His lips twisted into a wry smile. “Fine. I’ll pay you overtime.”

  I flattened my hand against my chest and, with my best innocent look, said, “You will? That’s so sweet?”

  “Right. Sweet.” He handed me a Berry Refresher. I’d been too busy looking at his eyes to notice it. “Here. To wake you up.”

  “How did you—never mind. Thank you.” Damn it, now I was smiling at it.

  “Grab your stuff. Let’s go. We need to make a stop first.” He headed for the door.

  I snatched up my things and threw them in my favorite purse. “Where?”

  “The UPS store.”

  “Why?”

  He pulled open the door and looked at me, smirking. “To buy you bubble wrap before you hurt yourself again.”

  “If you weren’t my boss, I’d punch you for that.”

  “And you’d probably end up hurting yourself more.”

  “Shut up.”

  ***

  Thankfully, I managed to convince Jake that the ups store wasn’t necessary because I was, in fact, an adult. In was also perfectly capable of not breaking ten bones in a day… at least, that was the story I was sticking to.


  I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t break his though.

  One hour. We’d been looking at chairs for an hour. I almost wanted to call every ex I’d ever had and apologize for all the times I’d taken them shopping and they’d wanted to kill me.

  Then again, clothing shopping was a very serious business. Office chair buying? Not so much.

  “For the love of God, Jake. It’s a chair. Anyone would think you’re a princess trying to avoid a non-existent pea!”

  He spun around once in a black, leather, high-backed computer chair. “I need the right chair. It’s not as simple as walking in and just buying something.”

  “Hello, I’m a woman. I’m an expert at shopping. Pleased to meet you.”

  “This isn’t a pair of shoes. This is an important work chair.”

  “Have you seen the price of Louboutins?”

  Jake paused. “I can’t say I’ve ever imagined myself in four-inch-heels, actually.”

  I stared at him. “Pick. A. Chair. We haven’t even touched upon the office section yet, and I have to get to work soon.”

  “I can say your boss won’t mind if you’re late because of this.”

  “He might not, but there are almost one hundred employees who will wonder where the hell their manager is.”

  He tapped a finger against his chin. “Here. What do you think of this chair?”

  “Seriously? That’s your response to what I said? Christ on a cracker.”

  “I’m not sure why you’d want to put Jesus on a cracker, but yes, seriously.”

  I eyed him with annoyance as he stood, motioning for me to take a seat. I did it, shuffling along the floor, never letting my eyes leave him. His smile grew with every step I took, and finally, reluctantly, I stopped in front of the chair and lowered myself down.

  Soft.

  Like a cloud.

  A cloud covered with cold, soft leather.

  “Ohhh.” I leaned back, closing my eyes. “I think I just came a little.”

  Jake barked out a laugh.

  Shit.

  I said that out loud.

  I snapped my eyes open. “I mean—shit.”

  “Two of those, then,” he said, composing himself.

  “I don’t—there’s nothing wrong with my chair now.” I jumped out of the chair like my ass was on fire. “Shall we go to the office section?”

  He stared at me for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. He wanted to—it was written all over his face. In the glint of his eyes and the barely-there twitch of his lips. In the stretch of his jaw and the scratch of his chin.

  Those things told me I didn’t want to hear what he didn’t say.

  Why did my boss have to be hot? And know what my boobs looked like?

  Man, would I ever get past that?

  No.

  No, I would not.

  “Let’s go,” Jake said after that everlasting moment of eye-glinting and chin-scratching.

  Was it bad that I wanted to scratch his chin for him? I bet that stubble could tickle a girl’s fingertips just right.

  Sweet Jesus! I was thisclose to Goddamn therapy.

  “Mellie? Are you coming?”

  “Am I wha—” I stopped and, not seeing him, flailed as I spun around. “Yes. I am.”

  “You’re in a little world of your own, aren’t you?” The smile on his face was unmoving.

  Did he ever not smile?

  “Well, I didn’t stub my toe and break my shin by being on this planet, did I?” I shot him a look as I swept past him to the escalator to go upstairs.

  Jake took the step immediately behind me. “What time are you supposed to start?”

  “Two o’clock. Why?”

  “We need to move.” He prodded my back.

  “Why? What time is it?” I jerked around to look at him.

  “One-fifteen.”

  “Jake!”

  “Top of the escalator!”

  “What?” I turned a second too late and tripped over the tiny step that led from the escalator to the still floor.

  Luckily for me, Jake was close enough to me that he was able to grab me and steady me, stopping me from falling flat on my face.

  “Oh my God,” I breathed.

  Putting both his hands on my upper arms, he dragged me out of the way of the escalator and looked right into my eyes. “I knew we should have stopped at UPS.”

  Chapter Six

  Upside #6: You can convince the pizza guy that sixteen-inch pizza is to share with your “boyfriend.” Except you get to eat it all.

  I barely made it to work on time, and that was only thanks to the taxi I’d called to get me out of that store. One thing was for sure: if a man ever complained about my shopping again, I’d direct him to Jacob Creed.

  Even I never wanted to see the inside of a mall again.

  I rifled through the paperwork on my desk. There were sticky notes and message cards all over the place. Disregarding half of the messages, I pushed them to the side and picked up one of the messages from the maids.

  “Nope,” I said instantly and threw it in the trash. There were certain times of the month you could request vacations. The day after I put up the rosters was not that time.

  I moved quickly through the rest of them, splitting them between important and…well, a load of shit. As usual, there was more crap than anything else, including a cold caller from a plumber who claimed to have started servicing our boiler.

  Nope.

  Man, today was full of nope.

  Stubbing my toe? Nope. Being braless? Nope. Jake showing up and forcing me into the most hellish shopping trip of my life? Nope.

  Big. Fat. Nope.

  I sighed and leaned back in my chair. Damn it. I should have taken Jake up on the offer of a new chair. After sitting in that sigh-worthy one, I felt like I needed it. And like this one felt like sitting on a rock.

  Double sigh…

  I picked up the message from the person who I needed to call back.

  I didn’t really want to have the conversation right now, but it was better than sitting here doing nothing.

  I dialed the number and listened.

  Ring, ring, ring.

  The call rolled over to voicemail. I returned the message and hung up. Then, I sighed. Again. There was a lot of that going around today.

  I was seconds away from lamenting the terrible mess of this day when the door opened with a loud creak.

  In keeping with classic Mellie, I screamed.

  Jake jumped about ten feet back into the hallway. I clasped my hand to my chest and glared at him.

  “What the hell?” My voice was louder than I’d intended it to be, but he’d scared the shit out of me!

  “What do you mean, “what the hell?”” Jake asked, stepping inside. “You’re the one who’s in here screaming like I’m a ghost coming to kill you.”

  I slapped my hand on the table. “You may as well be,” I said. “Haven’t you heard of knocking?”

  Jake closed the door behind him “Yeah, well, I didn’t think I had to knock to get into my own office.”

  “Well, you thought wrong,” I said, standing and waving my finger at him. “Because this is our office, not yours. Ours.”

  He raised one eyebrow in amusement. “Are you going to knock before you come in here?”

  “No, why would I?”

  He chuckled. “Because, as you just insisted, this is our office, not my office.” Shrugging off his jacket, he finished, “Which means it’s not your office either.”

  I blinked at him. “That might be right, but technically speaking, it is my office.”

  “Well, make up your mind.” He smirked. “Because it can’t be your office and our office at the same time.”

  “Fine, it’s my office.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “is that better? You know as well as I do you’re like, like, like… an office thief.”

  “An office thief.”

  Damn it; he was laughing at me again. I could see in his eyes. I was real
ly starting to hate it when he did that.

  I rose my chin in defiance. “Yes. An office thief.” I nodded my head once, strongly, as if to prove my point.

  I didn’t know what my point was, but still, I felt I had to make it.

  That was how it worked, right?

  Jake walked over to the window and looked outside. “An office thief,” he muttered, seemingly to himself. “I’ve been called many things, but that’s a new one.”

  “I could come up with a few more if you really wanted me to.”

  “No, I think I’m good, thanks. God only knows what you come up with after that shopping trip.”

  “Ah, see you admit it was like entering the seventh ring of hell for you too, huh?”

  He paused, eyes twinkling. “No… Not exactly…”

  Man, this would be really awkward if I cared.”

  his laughter echoed through the office. “Don’t worry, Mellie. That was pretty obvious you wanted to kill me.”

  I touched my hand to my chest and sighed in a mock relief. “Oh, thank God, I’m so glad. On the other hand,” I paused. “If your body is ever found, I’ll be the first suspect. Never mind. Forget I said anything. Shopping isn’t worth killing somebody over.”

  Jake snorted. “Clearly, you’ve never watched forensic files.”

  “No,” I said slowly, “And after that shopping trip, you should be glad I haven’t.”

  He held my gaze for a moment and then burst out laughing.

  What was it about that laugh?

  It was like… Magic. Every time I’d heard it, it’d given me goosebumps. And I’d heard it a lot lately. It never seemed to get old.

  You know what was getting old?

  The way those stupid ass goosebumps danced up and down my arms every single time I heard it.

  Oh, and look, there they were again, the little traitors.

  I didn’t want to feel them. Actually, as a point of note, I didn’t want to hear him laugh either.

  “Fair enough,” Jake said. “In that case, definitely don’t watch it. It’s terrible.”

  I sat back down the narrowed my eyes at him. He had a stupid grin on his face – one that reached his eyes and made them shine.

  I was really, really starting to hate that one as well. And that was all the tummy butterflies faults.