Page 30 of The Fake Dating War

“Yeah, what am I saying?” he says, studying me closely. “She wouldn’t pick you even if you were the last man on Earth.”

A basic retort to him should be simple, but irritation scrapes at me. Really? That’s what she thinks? Not if I was heronlyoption? Surely, she could suck it up and be with me if there wasn’t anybody else left. Especially if the fate of human-kind rested on our shoulders, and we had to do our best to repopulate the earth. I’d suffer through it. More than once or twice.

A slow smile spreads on Leo’s face, but before I can shut it down, Mr.Davies calls my name. He’s left his office and is heading towards us. Odd.

Mr.Davies is a stout man with dark skin, cropped grey curls, and a trim beard. Despite being heavier, he moves with a hop in his step as if always on the ready for unstable flooring. From afar, he looks hawkish, but close-up the deep smile lines around his mouth put people at ease. He’s usually always humming to himself, but today his silence is noticeable.

“Jake, where is Reema?” he asks, coming to a stop in front of me. “I need to talk to both of you.”

“Keri brought her cat. Patel is allergic.”

“She’s never mentioned that.”

“Her sneezes aren’t hidden. Keri should take the hint. This isn’t the first time she’s seen Patel run into the bathroom after the cat comes around.”

“Right. I’ll get HR to speak to Keri, but for now, when you see Reema, tell her I want to see both of you in my office as soon as possible. Consider it a priority.”

When he leaves, Leo makes a low whistling noise. “That sounds serious.”

It does.

Whatever is going on, Mr.Davies is not impressed.

20

JAKE

“What does he want?” Patel asks me.

“I don’t know.” Deciding I don’t want to deal with her constant sniffling, I steal a box of tissues from someone’s desk and throw it to her.

She catches it and uses one to wipe her nose. Then she chucks the box back at me, and I put it down on someone else’s desk.

“You said he looked mad?” she says. “Why?”

“How would I know?” Her nose is red. Did she take her allergy pill with food? My brother Evan uses the same one. It has to be taken with food. “Did you eat?”

“What? How isthatrelevant? I’m asking if you know anything about Mr.Davies’ mood.”

“No clue.”

She vocally grumbles as we stride into his office. Three out of four walls are made of glass. It doubles at telling his staff anyone is welcome to come inside, but also makes the inside run hotter than the rest of the floor, which Mr.Davies enjoys. There’s a sitting-in-front-of-a-fireplace quality he gets without having to install an actual fireplace. Two seats in butterscotch leather face an oak slab of a desk. On it, freshly plucked flowers from his wife are the brightest spot of color amongst charcoals, browns, and burgundies.

Mr.Davies is waiting for us, and he is still not humming. “Have a seat.”

Patel and I glance at each other. We sit.

Before Mr.Davies can speak, there is a knock on the door. A young woman in a wheelchair rolls inside. Her hair is the color of an eggplant and tattooed flowers bloom along her arms.

“This is Fi from IT,” says Mr. Davies, “Fi, please explain what you found.”

Her fingers fidget as she scans our faces. “There’s a discrepancy… um… between the contracts signed… and those entered into the system.”

Patel and I simultaneously stiffen.

“Thank you, Fi,” says Mr. Davies. “You may go.”

She hurriedly leaves, and all you hear is the loud thud of the door shutting. I sneak a glance at Patel. She looks guilty as fuck, and that’s when I realize the implications. It’s not only me that’s been caught. She’s also not been entering her clients in the system.

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