Chapter Twenty

As noon rolls around, the marketing team members leave one by one to grab something to eat. I put a finger on my lower lip and glance in the direction of the legal department. If I get out of the building with Matt before Sammi calls, I should be okay. Besides, I sort of want him to drag me to a hotel and fuck me silly like Sammi mentioned because that’s hot…and because I’ve been thinking about it constantly after leaving David’s office. I even made more typos than normal. Hmm. Maybe this is why Alexandra doesn’t like coworkers dating. But it’s gotta be more mentally healthy than obsessing over a ridiculous promotion I don’t want.

Just as I close my laptop, my phone buzzes.

–Sammi: Don’t forget lunch! You owe us. I got a table at Jolly Robin.

I squint. Jolly Robin is my favorite burger joint. I’m sure the venue was chosen as a trap to lure me in. Sammi’s MO is no secret, at least not to me or Michelle. Ply me with a good cheeseburger, some fries and a Diet Coke, and who knows what I might spill…

–Jan: Us as in you and Michelle?

–Sammi: Yeah.

–Jan: Can’t. I have a lunch date. With Matt.

–Michelle: No you don’t. The legal dicks have a working lunch today.

Oh shit. I didn’t see that Sammi had looped Michelle into our convo.

–Jan: I thought you guys weren’t virgins. What do you need to hear from me?

–Michelle: Post-mortem.

–Jan: Can’t do it on a live body…

–Sammi: Shut up and meet us in ten or I’m posting shit about you on the company Intranet. You know I’ll do it. I’ve got some embarrassing dirt on you.

–Jan: You threatening me with HR watching?

–Michelle: I didn’t hear anything.

–Jan: I have evidence. I’m screencapping now.

–Sammi: I’ll tell them you Photoshopped it. Come on.

I sigh. Sammi isn’t going to give in, and neither is Michelle, especially if they went as far as making a reservation at Jolly Robin and checking Matt’s schedule.

–Jan: Fine.

–Sammi: I’m driving. Meet in the lobby now.

I make a face. So the interrogation will start before I even get my burger.

Still, it makes sense to take only one car. There’s the traffic, and it saves the planet. Sammi has the biggest car—a mini-SUV. Michelle calls shotgun, and I gladly hide behind Sammi. Maybe she won’t remember I’m in the car if Michelle distracts her with something. Anything.

But it’s Michelle who betrays me once we’re seated in the restaurant and getting menus. “So. I heard Matt eye-fucked you during the meeting. I’m sorry I missed it.”

Damn it. If Michelle would just keep her mouth shut… “I have to get back early,” I say. “David wants to talk about something.”

“About what?”

“Interoffice dating rules, most likely,” Sammi says.

“We don’t have such rules,” Michelle says, while studying the menu…which is ridiculous, since we always get the same thing.

Our server comes to take our order. Everyone has their usual—a cheeseburger and fries with Diet Coke for me, a grilled chicken Caesar salad and lemonade for Michelle, and a bacon mushroom burger and spicy fries with pure, unadulterated classic Coke for Sammi.

Our drinks come quickly, and the food arrives soon after, basically at warp speed. But then, nobody goes to a joint where your lunch shows up slower than a slug on tranquilizers, especially on a work day.

“So what’s this thing with David?” Sammi asks, licking her lips. I’m not sure if it’s over the piping hot food in front of her or the prospect of grilling me.

“He wants to make me a marketing analyst,” I say, picking up a fry and munching on it.

“Woohoo!” Sammi lets out a loud hoot, raising both arms straight over her head in a victory pose.

“You go, girl!” Michelle lifts a hand to high-five me.

“But you can’t tell anybody,” I say even as I half-heartedly slap her palm.

“Of course not. Not until it’s official, but what’s up with that little tap? You don’t want the position?” Michelle asks with a frown.

“Well. App dev is much cooler,” Sammi says with a wink. “But marketing’s not bad. Awesome you’re moving up, right?”

“Um. Yes and no. I guess it’s nice that he wants to promote me, but…”

“You want to be in app dev,” Sammi finishes. To her, only app dev is worth anything, with marketing being second best, and that’s only because David’s in the latter.

“No.”

Michelle peers at me, her fork stabbing a few dressing-drenched lettuce leaves. “Would you rather be Matt’s legal secretary?”

I thunk my head on the table. Leave it to Michelle to bring the topic back to Matt. I swear, she’s picked up a lot from Sammi over the years. Not to mention, unlike Sammi, who is a bit ham-fisted, Michelle can be subtle. Downright sneaky, in fact.

“No. That would be Izzy Friday.”

“That ho.” Sammi snorts. “As if.”

“But none of this is really the point. I’m just…happy where I am.”

Michelle blinks. “Seriously? But you graduated from one of the best undergraduate business schools in the country.”

“Yeah. You worked your ass off for it. What gives?”

I take a huge bite of my burger so I don’t have to answer them. Talking with food in your mouth is rude. Everyone says so. Michelle and Sammi are civilized interrogators.

Or so I think.

They aren’t letting the likes of Emily Post deter them. They wait me out, munching on their lunch.

Finally, I swallow—because I can only chew for so long without looking ridiculous.

“So?” Sammi says. I swear she’s been watching my throat.

“I just don’t think I’ll be good at it,” I say finally.

“No fucking way.”

“Why the hell not?” Michelle demands.

If I weren’t feeling a bit pathetic about it, I’d laugh at their identical expressions—wide eyes, mouths ajar (thankfully they’ve already swallowed their food), and blinking in sync. “I’m just, you know…not that naturally talented at stuff like this.”

“Girl, I know nothing about talent in marketing because that’s not my thing, but you’re one of the hardest working people I’ve ever met.” Sammi sucks down her Coke to punctuate her point.

“What she said,” Michelle agrees. “Look, talent means nothing if you’re lazy. Besides, you aren’t a complete idiot or you would’ve never made it to Comm School or graduated with honors.”

I sigh. “Probably not.”

“So have some confidence! I don’t know why you always sabotage yourself like this. Career is everything.”

“Not everything,” Sammi corrects Michelle. “Jan has a man.”

Michelle shakes her head. “Fine. But relationships come second.”

“So. This man-lationship.” Sammi gives me a look. “I’m not asking for blow-by-blow because that’s TMI…unless you want to share because that’s like totally TJI, and I welcome that with open arms.”

“What’s TJI?” I ask, trying to parse Sammi-talk.

“Too Juicy Information.”

“I don’t think that’s real or grammatically correct,” Michelle interjects.

“Nobody cares, except for grammar Nazis, and girlfriend, you just gotta say no to all types of Nazis. Anyway…” Sammi leans forward. “What made you change your mind? Not that I don’t approve of Matt—I do, he’s perfect—but this whole thing is totally different. It’s not out of town, not with a stranger, and certainly not a one-night stand from what I can see.”

I clear my throat to hide the smile tugging at my lips. “Well. I like him. And…” I flush, feeling slightly ridiculous and shy at the same time. “He likes me back.”

Sammi and Michelle both roll their eyes good-naturedly. “Of course, he likes you, silly. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be the man we thought,” Sammi said.

“Which is?”

“A smart guy,” she says at the same time Michelle says, “A man with impeccable taste.”

I have to grin. “Thanks.”

“Seriously, I think he should kiss your feet and worship you or something.”

I glow. Despite the fact that they can get overly nosy, they’re the kind of besties every woman should have, and I’m lucky they’re on my team. “I just realized I needed somebody who likes me because he likes me, not because, you know…”

Michelle blinks. “What?”

“Because they feel like they should. And Matt has no reason to feel that way about me.”

“No one likes somebody out of obligation,” Sammi says, picking up a fry and dunking it in ketchup.

“Families do.” It slips out before I can catch myself.

Michelle’s fork stills in mid-air. “Did something happen over the weekend?”

“No. I was just pointing out an example,” I say quickly. I’ve finished my lunch, including my Diet Coke, so I suck the half-air and half-melted ice at the bottom of the glass hard through the straw.

Michelle’s phone buzzes. She glances at it. “A meeting in fifteen. We gotta get going.”

Thank you, phone gods.

On our way back, we all sing along to our favorite Ed Sheeran. I’m not a great singer—dancing isn’t the only thing I don’t do well—but I don’t care. We’re all just friends having fun.

As I get out of the car, my phone chirps twice. Shit. My stomach sinks.

“What’s wrong?” Sammi says.

“It’s Ophelia. She just texted me to come up to the fifteenth floor ASAP.”

Sammi and Michelle raise their eyebrows. Ophelia Mason is Alexandra’s assistant, and she only contacts you if it’s a business matter. And I don’t know what my grandmother can possibly want.

“Go,” Sammi says. “Good luck.”

Michelle nods. “Maybe she’s contacting you about the promotion.”

My shoulders sag. “Doubtful.” Although maybe she is. David could’ve mentioned it last night while I wasn’t there.

We step inside the elevator together. My friends get off on their respective floors. I let the car take me all the way up to fifteen. When the CEO of the company wants to see you ASAP? You go, not even giving yourself the time to drop off your bag.