Page 21 of The Fake Dating War

At least, there issomeconsolation in seeing smudges of darkness underneath his eyes, hinting at a rough night. Not that I am going to ask him about it. It’s personal and we don’t do personal things, which is why he needs to stop being so caveman-like with how his green eyes roam over me, as if looking for any sign I’m unwell.

My thighs squirm under his scrutiny, making me wonder what is wrong with the space between my legs? Why isanythingfluttering? Must be a symptom of over-caffeination.

I freeze when Coleman opens his mouth. Is he going to ask if I’m fine?

“The bonus is mine,” I blurt out, invoking the sentence like a safe-word.

“It’s mine,” he argues, practically automatically.

Good. We both need to remember we are opponents. He is the devil-shaped thorn blocking my chance at redemption. Whatever happens, I can’t waver or let myself weaken in front of him.

“Go away,” I mutter to emphasize my point.

Judging by the tightening around his mouth, I think he’s about to walk away, but he doesn’t. He tosses something at me, and I can’t help but catch and then drop it on my desk.

“It’s not a bomb, Patel.”

I look at the deli-wrapped oblong shape. “Then what is it?”

“Someone brought bagels.”

“So? Why are you giving it to me?”

“I’m allergic to poppyseeds.”

“Deathly?”

“Don’t get so excited. We’re at work.”

I inspect the bagel as if it will explode on me.

“Do with it what you will,” he says snidely, finally striding away. “I don’t care.”

“What was that about?” wonders Leo behind me, a moment later.

“Nothing.”

“Did I hear something about a bagel?”

“Someone brought them in.”

Leo leaps off his chair. “These animals are going to take them all. I’m going to go grab one, but when I come back, you owe me ten minutes of gossiping time!”

“Ten minutes?! Why?”

“Because I got you a match on Finder. You’re going on a date tonight!”

15

REEMA

At the end of the workday, I pack up slowly and linger in the bathroom. Yet, somehow, Coleman and I end up in the elevator alone and together again.

“Shocker, the bagel didn’t kill me,” I say as my opening firing shot.

In truth, the buttered bread almost melted on my tongue. It was the best bagel I’ve ever had.

Coleman pushes the button for the parking lot. “Poisoning you wouldn’t be worth the paperwork.”

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