Kian
Page 23
He muttered, falling back to lean against the couch, “He says good morning, too.”
Lovely.
I ignored his member’s good morning. “How is it that you got here? You weren’t at the Wine Cellar last night.” I leaned back against the counter. I had picked the morning shift, so I was late, but a good cup of coffee couldn’t be rushed.
Erica rolled her eyes. “He called a few hours ago, convinced that he needed to go to the hospital.”
Last night, Erica had been falling over wasted.
I asked her, “You were steady enough to take him?”
She snorted. “Hell no. I talked him into taking a cab here, and when he got here, he suddenly felt better.”
He grumbled, yawning and stretching at the same time, “I thought I was dying. Thanks for the sympathy, too. Good friends you are.”
There was enough coffee in the pot for one more person.
“We’re the best kind of friends there are, if you want the last cup.”
“The best. The very best.” He stood up and began scratching at his chest again as he continued, “The one-of-a-kind best—unique and rare and”—he moved closer to the pot, leaned down, and took a big whiff before a dreamy smile came over his face—“the kind that I just want to hug.”
He had morning breath.
Before I could retreat, Erica held up a hand. “Back away from my roommate. You’re sick. You were throwing up.” She paused and amended, “We were both throwing up at the same time. He got the toilet. I took the garbage bin.” She shuddered. “Not good times.”
The image flashed in my head. “Gross. I didn’t need to know that.”
Erica grinned over her cup. “It’s one of the perks of being my roommate. We’re close, Jo. You get to know everything about me.”
Wanker grunted, moving back to the couch with the whole coffee pot. “I do, too, and I’m not your roommate.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I don’t?” He looked at her in surprise.
“Nope.” Erica grabbed her bag and then her purse. Putting her arms through the straps, she secured her bag onto her back and then reached for her cup. Pausing at the door with her keys in hand, she frowned at him. “I have to go. It’s our last day for prep before the interview.” Her eyebrows shot up, and she said to me, “You have to be there today.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Oh my gosh, that was the other thing I needed to vent to you about. Susan rescheduled the interview. She’s going to meet with him tomorrow. I found that out last night. I was supposed to do my questions on the original date, two days from now. Oh, man.” Her palm hit her forehead. “That was the whole reason I had you come out last night.”
She had been hanging all over one of the other reporters when I got there, so I hadn’t been filled in on whatever was wrong. Remembering that, I met her gaze, and she looked toward Wanker before giving me a slight head shake.
Message received. I would keep my mouth shut, so I took another sip of my coffee instead.
After a second’s pause of silence, Erica continued, more quietly, “So, yeah, that was why I was upset. Susan wasn’t going to tell me. She was going to have her assistant do the background questions.”
“That other reporter is out?”
“Susan got her completely kicked off the project. It’s a big scoop for Susan. She tried saying that it got moved up a day because of his team’s request, but she could’ve told me. This is all we’ve been working on for the last month.” The ends of her mouth pinched together, and the lines around her eyes strained. “But we’re doing a meeting today to go over everything one last time. She knows that I got you on the approved list to be my assistant, so you have to be there.”
“I have to work.”
“You have to get out of it.”
“But—” I remembered launching myself at that couple and the woman’s threats that she was going to get me canned. On second thought…
I lifted a shoulder. “I could call in sick.”
“Perfect.” Erica beamed at me. “Okay, the meeting starts at three, so when you come to the building, just text me. I’ll come down and grab you in the lobby.”
I nodded. “Sounds go—”
The door slammed shut, and it was down to two. I glanced at Wanker. He stared back at me over the coffee pot.
He grimaced, his hand moving to his stomach. He muttered, “I should’ve held off on the coffee.”
“Too soon?”
He stood, passing me the pot, and he headed for the other pot. “Much too soon. Much.”
A second door was slammed shut, leaving me alone.
I said under my breath, “And it’s down to one, folks.”
When the barfing sounds started, that was my cue to leave, but first, I needed to make that phone call. Paul wouldn’t believe me, not if that woman had already called or even if she’d call later. He’d know I was lying, but I wanted to avoid that storm, even though I’d be going into a different one.
After putting the coffee cup into the sink, I headed for my bedroom with my phone in hand when Wanker opened the bathroom door behind me. The toilet was flushed before he turned off the sink.
He returned to the couch, wiping wet hands over his mouth. “Sorry. I…sorry you had to hear that.”
“You going to be okay?”
He didn’t answer that question. Instead, he leaned back against the couch. “I know she was with someone last night.”
Oh, whoa.
I shrank back against my bedroom doorframe.
He lightly rubbed his hand over his stomach. “It’s why I came over. I had to see for myself. I think that’s why I felt sick.” He cringed, turning a light shade of green. “Or why I felt sicker.”
He looked up at me. He didn’t know, no matter if he’d said he did. I knew he didn’t, and in that one look at me, he was checking for confirmation. I steeled myself, ready for his inspection, but when those eyes met mine, I wasn’t prepared for the sadness there.
He was speaking the truth. He really did know.
My shoulders relaxed. “I’m sorry, Wanker.”
He waved me off. “Nope. Trust me, I get it. She doesn’t have those feelings for me. She made that perfectly clear.”
Lovely.
I ignored his member’s good morning. “How is it that you got here? You weren’t at the Wine Cellar last night.” I leaned back against the counter. I had picked the morning shift, so I was late, but a good cup of coffee couldn’t be rushed.
Erica rolled her eyes. “He called a few hours ago, convinced that he needed to go to the hospital.”
Last night, Erica had been falling over wasted.
I asked her, “You were steady enough to take him?”
She snorted. “Hell no. I talked him into taking a cab here, and when he got here, he suddenly felt better.”
He grumbled, yawning and stretching at the same time, “I thought I was dying. Thanks for the sympathy, too. Good friends you are.”
There was enough coffee in the pot for one more person.
“We’re the best kind of friends there are, if you want the last cup.”
“The best. The very best.” He stood up and began scratching at his chest again as he continued, “The one-of-a-kind best—unique and rare and”—he moved closer to the pot, leaned down, and took a big whiff before a dreamy smile came over his face—“the kind that I just want to hug.”
He had morning breath.
Before I could retreat, Erica held up a hand. “Back away from my roommate. You’re sick. You were throwing up.” She paused and amended, “We were both throwing up at the same time. He got the toilet. I took the garbage bin.” She shuddered. “Not good times.”
The image flashed in my head. “Gross. I didn’t need to know that.”
Erica grinned over her cup. “It’s one of the perks of being my roommate. We’re close, Jo. You get to know everything about me.”
Wanker grunted, moving back to the couch with the whole coffee pot. “I do, too, and I’m not your roommate.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I don’t?” He looked at her in surprise.
“Nope.” Erica grabbed her bag and then her purse. Putting her arms through the straps, she secured her bag onto her back and then reached for her cup. Pausing at the door with her keys in hand, she frowned at him. “I have to go. It’s our last day for prep before the interview.” Her eyebrows shot up, and she said to me, “You have to be there today.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Oh my gosh, that was the other thing I needed to vent to you about. Susan rescheduled the interview. She’s going to meet with him tomorrow. I found that out last night. I was supposed to do my questions on the original date, two days from now. Oh, man.” Her palm hit her forehead. “That was the whole reason I had you come out last night.”
She had been hanging all over one of the other reporters when I got there, so I hadn’t been filled in on whatever was wrong. Remembering that, I met her gaze, and she looked toward Wanker before giving me a slight head shake.
Message received. I would keep my mouth shut, so I took another sip of my coffee instead.
After a second’s pause of silence, Erica continued, more quietly, “So, yeah, that was why I was upset. Susan wasn’t going to tell me. She was going to have her assistant do the background questions.”
“That other reporter is out?”
“Susan got her completely kicked off the project. It’s a big scoop for Susan. She tried saying that it got moved up a day because of his team’s request, but she could’ve told me. This is all we’ve been working on for the last month.” The ends of her mouth pinched together, and the lines around her eyes strained. “But we’re doing a meeting today to go over everything one last time. She knows that I got you on the approved list to be my assistant, so you have to be there.”
“I have to work.”
“You have to get out of it.”
“But—” I remembered launching myself at that couple and the woman’s threats that she was going to get me canned. On second thought…
I lifted a shoulder. “I could call in sick.”
“Perfect.” Erica beamed at me. “Okay, the meeting starts at three, so when you come to the building, just text me. I’ll come down and grab you in the lobby.”
I nodded. “Sounds go—”
The door slammed shut, and it was down to two. I glanced at Wanker. He stared back at me over the coffee pot.
He grimaced, his hand moving to his stomach. He muttered, “I should’ve held off on the coffee.”
“Too soon?”
He stood, passing me the pot, and he headed for the other pot. “Much too soon. Much.”
A second door was slammed shut, leaving me alone.
I said under my breath, “And it’s down to one, folks.”
When the barfing sounds started, that was my cue to leave, but first, I needed to make that phone call. Paul wouldn’t believe me, not if that woman had already called or even if she’d call later. He’d know I was lying, but I wanted to avoid that storm, even though I’d be going into a different one.
After putting the coffee cup into the sink, I headed for my bedroom with my phone in hand when Wanker opened the bathroom door behind me. The toilet was flushed before he turned off the sink.
He returned to the couch, wiping wet hands over his mouth. “Sorry. I…sorry you had to hear that.”
“You going to be okay?”
He didn’t answer that question. Instead, he leaned back against the couch. “I know she was with someone last night.”
Oh, whoa.
I shrank back against my bedroom doorframe.
He lightly rubbed his hand over his stomach. “It’s why I came over. I had to see for myself. I think that’s why I felt sick.” He cringed, turning a light shade of green. “Or why I felt sicker.”
He looked up at me. He didn’t know, no matter if he’d said he did. I knew he didn’t, and in that one look at me, he was checking for confirmation. I steeled myself, ready for his inspection, but when those eyes met mine, I wasn’t prepared for the sadness there.
He was speaking the truth. He really did know.
My shoulders relaxed. “I’m sorry, Wanker.”
He waved me off. “Nope. Trust me, I get it. She doesn’t have those feelings for me. She made that perfectly clear.”
