Page 14 of Take It Offline

Heart skipping, I pull my gaze from his mouth.

“You wish.” I glare, ignoring the goose bumps that have spread along my spine. “We have a deadline. If you can’t do your part?—”

He pushes off the wall and steps back, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I’m not the one who has a problem here. Unlike some, I don’t always need to be in control.”

The jibe lodges itself between my ribs, twisting until the back of my throat stings.

It’s true, in more ways than he can possibly understand. Letting go isn’t easy for me, but I need to try.

What’s ironic is that my entire life feels out of my control. My parents, my body, my job.

And here comes Charlie, swanning in at the last minute, accusing me of what? Wanting to be in charge of my own destiny?

What a horrific fate for a woman.

Well, he can take that opinion and shove it up his extremely attractive ass. I’m not backing down.

I doubt he’d feel any guilt if our situations were reversed. Hell, he probably doesn’t feel anything at all.

I’m getting this promotion. And not only that; I’m getting Logan back.

“Roberts has already approved it. So I’ll do my thing and you can do yours, and we won’t have to even talk to each other.”

“Fine.”

“Great,” I grit out.

CHAPTER 7

FIRE VS. FLAME

EMMA

As the turnstile flashes green, I step through the open bi-fold gates, then stride across the polished marble floor toward the bank of elevators.

By the time I spot the traitorous head of brown hair, it’s already too late to hide.

Charlie steps onto the elevator, and I pray it closes before I reach it, but why would I get lucky now? His eyes meet mine as soon as he turns around, and he smiles as he throws an arm out to hold the doors.

“Don’t,” I grumble, tightening my hands into fists. “Don’t you dare hold the elevator for me, Charlie.”

I’m not sure I can survive standing close to him again.

“Better hurry up, Emma,” he sings out, and the butterflies in my stomach take flight.

Two weeks in and I’m still not used to him.

I huff. Debate it. Hate him a little more.

The doors chime a warning.

I shoot him a glare as I step in. Not that Charlie cares. He looks happier and more attractive than ever, leaning back against the rail, ankles crossed, a cobalt cashmere sweater making his eyes sing brightly as they lay into me.

What I’d give to wipe that smirk right off his face.

Bad luck used to be sold-out shows and parking tickets and not finding the shoes I love in my size.

Now it’s two little words, dripping with sarcasm and a twang I cannot escape, even in my dreams.

---