Page 19 of Company Ink

"Of course, she did. I'm a very interesting person," I joke. "Some might even say...peculiar."

Adrian leads me out of the restaurant, once again resting his palm on my back. "I didn't mean it in a negative manner, Cassie. I just meant that you're..." He pauses to think.

"I'm what?" I huff, glaring at him with narrowed eyes.

"Different," he finally says, his eyes drifting up and down my face.

Different?I scoff inwardly. Great, I’m a meme.

"Just what every girl wants to hear."

"It's a compliment," Adrian insists, retrieving his keys from the valet attendant.

"A compliment would be saying I'm beautiful or intelligent, notdifferent," I retort.

Adrian smirks. "I prefer not to state the obvious."

A rush of dopamine hits my brain forcing a giddy smile to snatch the corners of my mouth. "Cute," I hum, tilting my head. "What else is 'obvious'?"

Adrian takes a step towards me, his hooded brown eyes full of conflicted restraint. "That you're trouble."

"Me?" I say, biting my lip. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play coy with me Cassie, you know exactly what I mean," Adrian replies in a clipped and cool tone.

"Enlighten me, Mr. Cavallero. Because I sure am lost," I probe, hoping that he'll man the fuck up and put us both out of our misery.

Adrian clenches his jaw, clearly annoyed by the game I'm playing. He opens the car door for me. "Get in the car, Cassie. We should get back towork."

I roll my eyes. "Aye aye, captain." He's really starting to bug me. There's only so much rejection a girl can take.

Once we're both seated, Adrian looks at me with hesitation in his eyes. "What?" I ask.

"How thehelldo you know so much about bonsai trees?"

Really? That's his question?

"Ask me out to dinner and I'll tell you," I say flatly.

"You know I can't do that," Adrian says.

"Can't or won't?"

"It's not that simple," Adrian sighs. "We work together and I—I don't do relationships."

"Oh my God!" I throw my head back, completely exasperated. "I saiddinner, not a weekend away together in Vancouver." I let out a sigh. "You reallyareuptight."

Adrian stares at me with an unreadable expression. I turn away from him and look out the window, thoroughly irritated at this whole situation. How obnoxious is he to assume I want todatehim? Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome has one hell of an ego, which right now, is a bit of a turn-off. Someone honks their horn at us, and I realize we've been idling for several minutes.

"Cassie—"

"We should get going," I state wryly, cutting him off. "I have documents to scan."

nine

wrong type of climax

It's Friday afternoon and I'm glaring at the digital clock on my computer. Five more minutes and then I can go home. Why are the last few minutes of work always the longest? I swear between 4:30 pm and 5 pm, employees around the globe are sucked into some demented time warp, where seconds become minutes and minutes become the slowest, most torturous hours.

---