Chapter Twenty-Three

The rest of the week passes without incident. David doesn’t bring up the ridiculous promotion again, and Alexandra doesn’t pressure me about the San Mateo thing. But since I have this feeling that she’s expecting something from me—not sure what, exactly—I go ahead and send in my application for the app dev opening with Tim’s team. If she tries to move me to San Mateo, I’ll tell her I’d much rather work for Tim. No matter how awful some people say he is, he can’t be worse than being alone in a new city.

If push comes to shove, I’ll resign. There are other companies in the area, and I don’t have to work for Sweet Darlings Inc. It does feel strange, though, to even consider another firm. It was always expected that I’d join the company like most of my cousins. Anything else would’ve been letting Alexandra down.

And after work, I spend my evenings with Matt. We’ve done three takeouts so far—since they’re quick and easy, and both of us want to spend as much sexy fun time together as possible. But on Friday, Matt texts me.

–Matt: Forgot to mention it, but I got invited to a friend’s steakhouse opening. Wanna come? Lots of great food and wine.

–Jan: Love to. What time?

–Matt: Leave around four. It’s in Arlington.

–Jan: Got it. Dress code?

–Matt: The way you’re dressed is perfect. Love your sunflower pendant.

I grin a little. I’m in one of my favorite dresses—a pale blue number that ends an inch above my knees and comes with a conservative neckline. Since it can be sort of boring otherwise, I’m wearing dangly sun earrings and a big sunflower pendant that rests on my breastbone.

During lunch, Sammi texts Michelle and me. Since I’m leaving a little bit early, I’m eating at my desk.

–Sammi: Happy hour?

–Jan: Sorry. Got a date.

–Sammi: You mean you’re going to fuck him. You can do that after a drink or two.

I choke, then shake my head. Leave it to Sammi to get straight to the point.

–Jan: No. We have a REAL DATE. A steakhouse opening.

–Michelle: Oooo, I know the one you mean. Lucky you. Mom and Dad managed to get a table, but not me. :<

–Jan: Matt said he got an invite.

–Michelle: Can he hook me up too?

–Jan: Doubt it.

As much as I’d love to help her out, I don’t really want a date with my nosy friend hovering around.

–Jan: But I’ll ask if you can get a reservation there on a weekend soon. How about that?

–Michelle: It’s okay. There’s no point unless I can get a guy to pay for it.

–Sammi: Pay your own way. That way you don’t owe him anything. Unless you don’t mind re-banging that guy.

–Jan: Re-banging??

–Michelle: It’s nothing. Scratching an itch.

–Sammi: You’ve been so busy with Matt that you missed it, but Michelle didn’t come home until six a.m. last Sunday. Total walk of shame. Or was it a drive of shame?

I can practically hear Sammi’s cackle through the text.

–Sammi: I hope he was worth it.

–Michelle: He was good, but not sure about any repeat business yet.

–Jan: Why not?

I have to ask since I’m starting to feel like a bad friend for not noticing.

–Michelle: It’s complicated, but I think he likes to lie. And you know how I feel about liars, no matter how pretty they are. Anyway, back to the point. I hate dates who won’t at least buy me food and drinks. It’s the man’s way of signaling he’s materially comfortable enough to provide for you.

–Sammi: Geez. Doesn’t HR pay its staff?

–Michelle: So? I’m saving my money for bigger things.

I raise both of my eyebrows. She not only works at Sweet Darlings, but also moonlights as a honeypot for a local PI. I thought she was spending all her money on clothes—her wardrobe is worth sacrificing an ovary for—but maybe not.

–Sammi: Like what?

–Michelle: My dream wedding. Mom and Dad are too tight-fisted to splurge the way I want.

–Sammi: Jesus. Hasn’t your weekend job cured you of that?

–Michelle: Nope. It’s made me more determined than ever to find me the right guy. A man who turns down a young woman who’s willing to sleep with him regardless of his marital status… That’s hot. I’d totally have his baby.

That’s sweet and unexpected. Michelle can be a bit cynical at times, especially about relationships, but I never knew she felt this way deep down.

–Jan: All right. When you find a guy who’s going to buy you dinner, let me know and I’ll ask Matt if he can hook you up.

–Michelle: Thanks. Enjoy! And take pics!

I grin softly, type “Of course” and hit send.

–Sammi: You’re lucky Matt isn’t weird about blood. Some guys act like it’s the black plague.

That makes me pause.

–Jan: What blood?

–Sammi: Didn’t your period start? Mine did this morning, right after my run.

I frown and check the calendar. Sure enough, I’m supposed to start today too. All of us are. After having shared an apartment in college and now a house, our cycles have synced completely to mine since I was the first to go on the pill. After graduation, my period became a bit odd—becoming slightly heavier and lasting four days rather than the usual two—but I figured it was due to the stress of a new job and would return to normal soon. But a total absen—

Sudden panic knots in my belly.

–Michelle: Mine hasn’t started yet either. Maybe Jan’s body’s being considerate, and hers is going to start after she has her fun. *wink* *wink*

The panic subsides. I still have a lot of hours left until tomorrow. And just because our cycles are in sync doesn’t mean all of us start at the exact same moment.

The day drags on. I leave my desk fifteen minutes early to freshen my makeup, so I’ll look perfect this evening. It’s exciting to have an adult sit-down restaurant dinner with Matt. Dim sum was nice, but we were interrupted by an unwanted guest. Let’s hope Emma Beane doesn’t show up tonight, because she is more annoying and gross than someone changing a poopy diaper on a tray table on a plane. (Yes, I’ve seen that happen, and it’s actually worse than it sounds because witnessing it firsthand also comes with the fragrance.)

“That’s kind of a crappy color on you.”

I groan inwardly. It’s Izzy, making an asinine comment as usual. The coral pink looks great on me—I love the shade, and Matt told me it makes my lips look like luscious tropical fruit he can’t wait to devour—so she can suck it and shove her unwanted opinion where the sun doesn’t shine. At least I’m not doing cosplay as a hooker.

“What do you want?”

“Did you know Matt’s dating?”

I press my lips together and try to look surprised. “Oh?”

“Yeah. It’s so annoying. I wonder who it is. Probably somebody super good at tricking men.”

“Tricking?”

“Why else would he date her and not me?”

I nod. “Right.” Let’s just forget how obvious and annoying you are. “Hey, gotta go. Have a fantastic Friday.”

“You too.”

When I return to my desk, Matt is waiting for me with a small golden paper bag with a dark chocolate-colored bow tied around it. He looks yummy in a charcoal suit and the burgundy tie I picked out this morning. I try not to grin like an idiot, and totally fail. He waits while I put away my laptop and grab my purse, then hands me the package.

“For you.”

“Thanks,” I say. “Chocolate?”

He nods. “Belgian, eighty-five percent.” He places a warm, possessive hand at the small of my back. I probably shouldn’t let him be so obvious since we’re at work, but the physical connection feels too good to pull away from.

So I step closer, pressing my side to his. “Wow. That’s my favorite.”

“I know.”

“How?”

He lowers his head so he can whisper directly into my ear. “I asked Michelle.”

I shiver as his breath fans over me. My skin tingles where we’re touching. I’m almost tempted to ask him if we can skip the restaurant opening so we can go home and continue down the debauchery list before my period starts. But it’s the first time we’re having a fancy evening date, so I don’t want to give that up either.

Given how creative and smart Matt is, we can probably figure out a workaround. If not, we’ll have to suffer for four days. Sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I’m sooo not discussing my monthly cycle with him. Besides, he probably knows I’m about to start anyway from the way I’m bloating. At least I think I’m bloating.

As we’re about to make the turn for the elevator, Izzy comes out of the break room with a fresh cup of coffee…and stops dead in her tracks. Her mouth is open so wide, if a Dreamliner could fly right into it…which would serve her right after all the catty things she’s said.

I shrug, smile, and put an arm around Matt’s waist.

He doesn’t even seem to notice her. We step inside the waiting elevator.

“You seem to be in a pretty good mood,” he remarks.

“Oh, you have no idea. But how could I not be when I’m with you?”

Within an hour, the two of us will be all over Sweet Darlings Inc.’s rumor mill. Maybe I should care—after all, Alexandra doesn’t like interoffice dating—but it’s damn near impossible when I have Matt by my side, and for the first time since my mom died, I feel content.