“YOU KILLED THAT!” Mykayla whisper yells at me as the last few of our colleagues leave the boardroom. Two of them, Kimberly and Sam, watch me with narrowed eyes as they mumble to each other, and Mykayla follows my gaze to them. “Don’t let them get to you. Jealousy is a virus, babe, and those two are sick as hell.”
She laughs at her own joke, adjusting her breasts in the tight dress she’s wearing before collecting her papers and binder from the table.
“But seriously, that was awesome. No wonder they made you lead event planner. If you’re not careful, you might leave here with a job before you’re ready for one,” she says.
I rub my temples with my pointer and middle fingers, still feeling hungover even though the Alpha Sigma Halloween party was six days ago. “Thank you, Mykayla. Although if I did get offered a job, something tells me I wouldn’t have any friends here.”
“You’d have me,” she reminds me cheerily.
When the table is clear, we turn out the lights in the boardroom and make our way back to the intern cubes, Mykayla chatting the entire way about the Halloween bar crawl she did over the weekend. I’m listening attentively until we round the corner by the break room and Brandon is walking our direction.
My breath catches at the sight of him, all suited up like I’m used to, but now that I’ve seen him outside of work, I can’t help but long to see his arms in a casual white t-shirt.
Mykayla keeps talking, her voice muted to me now as my eyes stick like sap to Brandon. But he keeps his on the papers in his hands, shuffling through them as he passes right by us without so much as a glance up, and my heart sinks right along with my hope.
He hasn’t said a word to me since our… whatever that was, and that was the weekend before Halloween. He still sent the email about me being the lead event planner on the Bare•ly project the following Monday when we came in, but not a word was said to me otherwise. Not that I can blame him much after I left him with a massive case of blue balls in the back of my sorority house.
But what was I supposed to do?
I panicked. I needed to think straight, to make sense of it all, and I’d even decided that I would tell him we couldn’t do this. It was risky — for both of us.
It looked like I wouldn’t have to tell him that, because he’d decided for us. But I wasn’t so sure I liked the decision, now.
Being a girl sucks.
“Want to grab a drink after work?” Mykayla asks when we reach her reception desk, just before my cube. “It’s Happy Hour down at The Lift.”
I shake my head, pointing to the stack of binders in my arms. “I’ve got a hot date with a catalog of chair and linen choices.”
She laughs. “Make sure you wear your sexiest bra for that.”
“Already got it on.” I wink, heading for my desk as Mykayla waves me away with a grin.
The rest of the afternoon passes quickly, which seems to be a pattern now that I’ve secured the lead event planner position. It’s just past five when I wrap up the last email I needed to send and I power down my Mac with a yawn, packing up my oversized handbag before slinging it over my shoulder.
Mykayla is still at her desk when I pass by, and I call out a goodnight to her before rounding the corner toward the elevators. But before I can push the button, she stops me.
“I’m so glad I didn’t miss you on your way out,” she says, calling me over to her desk. “You’re going to flip your shit when I tell you what just happened.”
I force a smile, a little too tired to hear office gossip, but I adjust my bag on my shoulder and ask anyway. “What’s that?”
“Okay, so, there’s a huge event agency award conference in Atlanta every Thanksgiving. It’s mostly for agencies in the southeast region, and I’m sure you can imagine, we clean up in pretty much every category. Mr. Church always attends, they usually have him give a keynote speech, and basically he just spends the holiday rubbing elbows with other big wigs in the event industry and bringing back any trends he thinks we should jump on. Anyway,” she says, shaking her head with a wave of her hands. “That doesn’t really matter. What does matter is that he usually goes alone, but this year he requested a plus one.”
She looks at me expectantly, her bottom lip pinned between her teeth as she bounces in her chair. When I just offer a raised eyebrow, she leans forward over her desk.
“He requested you.”
My heart stops, kicking back to life a few seconds later as I stare blankly back at Mykayla. “He did?”
She nods excitedly. “Mm-hmm. But I need an answer from you on whether or not you want to go. Like… well, pretty much like now. He’s going to offer it to someone else if you decline. Which you should totally not do, if that was even an option in your mind. This has never happened before. It’s a big opportunity.”
I’m suddenly too aware of my posture, and I have the distinct feeling someone is watching me. When my eyes trail down the row of cubes to Brandon’s office, he’s watching me from the door, his dark eyes piercing a laser line straight to me. Mykayla goes over the dates and details, clicking through the information on her computer, but I keep my eyes on his.
“So, what do you think? Do you want to go or should I ask the next in line?”
I tear my eyes from Brandon’s, swallowing past the wad of sandpaper in my throat. “Well, I guess I’d be stupid to say no.”
She bounces again, a squeak escaping her mouth as she softly claps her little hands together. “I’m so excited for you! I’ll tell him you’ve accepted. I hope you’ll take a break from your hot date tonight to have a celebratory drink, because this is huge.”
I try to smile, but it falls too quickly as I glance toward his office again. I try to make sense of the request, or of the look he’s giving me now, but it’s all I can do to hold tight to Mykayla’s desk and not let my weak knees crash to the floor. The way he’s watching me, I’m not sure if I should be excited or scared. His gaze is dark, hungry, and I feel it through my skin, my veins, all the way down to my bones.
I thank Mykayla, turning for the elevators again. When I look back at Brandon, he holds my gaze with his own before shutting his office door, leaving me to stare at the sleek metal door just as the elevator dings its arrival.
A few days later, I shove an abnormally large bite of salad in my mouth just as Jess blows through the kitchen door with a growl.
“Boys are the root of all evil, Lei,” she says, tossing her phone onto the kitchen island. It slides across and hits my bowl with a tink, which causes her to pause and eye the contents. “Ew. Is that your dinner? Because if so, it personally offends me.”
I laugh around my mouthful, swallowing before reaching for my water bottle. “Listen, I eat so horrifically at my internship all week that all I want when I get home is something without carbs and grease.”
“You’re not human.”
“Tell me why boys are stupid today,” I say, shoveling another mound of kale into my mouth and effectively changing the subject.
“Ugh,” she huffs. “Jarrett had to postpone my trip to see him, so I’m not going up to New York for Thanksgiving anymore.” She tries to hold her anger, but it slips, leaving a sadness in its place that makes me pause mid-bite and drop my fork back into my bowl. Jess is a pretty tough girl, especially when it comes to handling guys, so to see her with glossy hazel eyes and a wrinkle between her eyebrows makes my chest ache.
“Oh, Jess, I’m so sorry.” I reach for her wrist, squeezing it once. “What happened?”
She shrugs, eyes on her hands as she picks at her deep red nail polish. “Work. What always happens?”
Nodding, I take another bite, trying to find the right words to soothe her. I know how important work can be to someone who has a drive and passion, someone who wants to succeed, but at the same time I can’t imagine coming second to that. It takes someone who is really understanding and patient, someone who is secure in who they are and what they have with their significant other.
“Are you okay?” I finally ask.
As if those words snap her back into the kitchen with me, Jess lets out a long, loud breath, shaking her head. “Yeah, I am. I really am. I get it, and I know he didn’t want to have to cancel. I’m just making the most of the situation,” she adds, popping her hands on the counter before forcing a smile my way. “Which is why I was looking for you. Tell your parents you’re not coming home for break. We’re having a Friendsgiving.”
I choke a little. “A what?”
“Friendsgiving! Oh, come on, like you haven’t seen every episode of Friends.” She waves me off. “Anyway, I already tracked down the rest of the crew and they’re all in. Erin, Skyler, Cassie. I even let her invite Grayson and convinced Bear to put aside his differences with Skyler, whatever the hell is going on there.” We both exchange a look then. “Adam might come, too.”
I clear my throat, which is suddenly dry. “Jess, I’m so sorry but… I can’t come.”
“Your parents will understand, dude. Just tell them the situation. They love me!”
“I know they do,” I agree, playing with the soggy remains of my salad before pushing it away from me. “But it’s not them. It’s my internship.”
She blinks.
“I got invited to go to a conference over the holiday, and it’s a pretty big deal. Usually just our CEO goes, but he invited me along with him. I think…” I swallow. “I think I’m really making an impression on him.”
That’s one way to put it.
“Well, shit.” Jess plops down on the bar stool next to me, dropping her head into her hands. “I can’t even be mad at you for that.”
I chuckle. “Sorry.”
She sighs, sitting up again and turning to me with a smile. “It’s okay. Really. That’s awesome, Lei, and I’m really proud of you. I knew you were going to knock their socks off.”
With that she grabs for her phone, checking the screen before huffing again and flipping it over to face down on the counter.
“Waiting for a text from Jarrett?”
She nods. “I love him so much. It scares the shit out of me because I legitimately feel crazy.”
“Want me to play some Beyoncé so you can twerk it out to Crazy in Love and get it out of your system?”
“Shut up,” she says on a laugh, but then she leans her head on my shoulder and I rest mine against hers, petting her hair. “Just tell me everything is going to be okay.”
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I assure her, and maybe myself a little, too. Because in just a few short weeks, I’ll be on a plane to Atlanta with my hot CEO. The same CEO who had his tongue in my mouth and his hands under my shirt two weeks ago.
I stare at my salad, suddenly craving something with a lot more anxiety-calming power.
“How do you feel about walking to Froggy’s for a triple scoop cone?”
Jess hops down off her stool, tucking her phone into her back pocket as she points in my direction. “Now you’re speaking my language.”
And with that, we link arms and head out the back door, both of us hoping like hell that ice cream is the answer to all our problems.