Page 62 of Company Ink

Adrian shrugs, smirking. "Somehow you manage to pull it off."

I roll my eyes. "You're just saying that to cheer me up."

Adrian calls the elevator. "Is it working?" he asks, tilting his head, his suddenly bright eyes scanning my face.

"Yeah," I admit, grinning in spite of myself. "A little."

When we get to the impound lot, Adrian demands that Noah calls his direct manager so he can discuss theirno-access until paymentpolicy even though I told him on the drive it wasn't a big deal. Noah does as he's told without hesitation and passes Adrian the telephone. I smile sheepishly at Noah.

"Am I going to get fired?" Noah asks nervously, side-eyeing Adrian, who's standing several yards away from the booth and yelling into the receiver. "Your boyfriend doesn't look happy. I was just following protocol."

"You won't get fired..." I bite my lip. "And he's not my boyfriend. He's, my boss."

Noah's eyebrows knit together. "Whatever you say, ma'am."

Adrian walks back to the attendant and hands him back the phone. "Thank you, Noah," he says dryly then turns to me. "Car's all yours now, Cassie."

"I'll pay you back," I say as Noah exits the booth.

Adrian tilts his head. "You'll do no such thing."

"Are you su—" My question is cut off by a loud sneeze.

"Maybe you should go home after you drop the keys off," Adrian suggests.

I wipe my nose on my sleeve.Classy as ever."Might be a good idea."

"Take care of yourself, okay?" Adrian gives my elbow a light squeeze and then heads back towards his own car.

"Boss, hey?" Noah asks from behind me, his voice laced with speculation. "Wheredo you work again?"

Oh my God, he probably thinks Adrian's my pimp or something.

"Just lead me to the car, Noah."

twenty-three

bitches love pillows

"Cassie, will you pleasestop groaning?" Monique pleads, peering over her computer. "I need to finish typing this email and your...noisesare so distracting! Just give me one minute! One!"

I flail around the couch and groan even louder. "I can't help it! My head feels like it's exploding. If I don't vocalize my pain, I'll die! Do you want me to die, Monique?" I had to call in sick to work today due to my impending death.

Monique drops her head on her computer in defeat. "I forgot how annoying you get when you're sick."

"Ah! So rude!" I cry, opening up my precious bottle of NyQuil and chugging it. "I feel like I have the world's worst hangover right now. Some compassion would be nice!"

Monique tilts her head and laughs. "Sweetie, you just drank almost a third of the bottle! You're going to get all loopy! That bottle's for nighttime."

I glare at my so-called best friend. "I'd rather be loopy than suffer at the hands of this damn cold!" I prop myself up, pulling my fuzzy blanket up to my chin. "If I'm sick then I can't go out tomorrow for the Fourth of July which means no fireworks!"

Monique stands up from the table and walks over to the couch. "Maybe you can see them from the balcony?" she suggests sweetly, tucking the blanket around my feet.

My face contorts into a deep frown. "No, that stupid office building is blocking the way," I huff. "God, I hate Seattle! I hate rain! I hate towing companies! I hate Luther! And I hate you for being all healthy and shit. I'm so tempted to cough on you right now."

Monique laughs, moving from the couch to the armchair. "As much as I'd love to take a sick day, I literally can't afford it. Matt's mother is insisting that we get orchids for the centerpieces. Do you know how much those flowers cost? Too much!"

"Can't you just buy fake flowers? They're probably cheaper and you can use them as decor at your new house."

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