Page 23 of Accidentally Amy

“No.” I looked out the window over my desk, out at the city lights, and felt a heavy load of disappointment settle over me as I said, “There are rules, and I have ethics. Regardless of the Amy thing, Isabella Shay is on my team, therefore off-limits.”

“But I—”

“Actually, I should probably go now.” I grabbed Goodyear, stood, and walked toward the kitchen. I needed to feed the cats and get on with life sans Scooter’s Girl. “You know we can’t text and call anymore, right?”

“Um,” she said, and something about her tone made me stop walking. I listened like she was about to tell me a secret, gripping the phone and standing frozen. “Isabella Shay is your employee, so you definitely shouldn’t be communicating with her after hours. But if, from time to time, you were to get a random text from Amy, a girl you met at Scooter’s, would that be such a bad thing?”

Shit, shit, shit, shit, I thought, knowing the right answer. There were no gray areas regarding ethics in the workplace—I wholeheartedly believed that. So I didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with me when I heard myself say, “I suppose not.”

“Okay, I have to go now. Bye.”

Before I could say a word, the call ended.

Which didn’t surprise me this time, because Isabella Shay was a giant question mark.

I went into the kitchen and grabbed a can of tuna from the cupboard, holding Goodyear against my chest as I wondered who the girl really was.

And just as I was setting the bowl on the floor and putting down Goodyear, my phone buzzed.

Hi, it’s Amy from Scooter’s.

Chapter Nine

Izzy

There he is.

I paused in the break room doorway, suddenly nervous as I watched him press the button on the Keurig. I hadn’t seen Blake at work since last week, when I’d fallen in the hallway, and I wasn’t sure how he was going to act in a face-to-face scenario.

Because we’d been texting every day.

Nothing major, just a few random conversations here and there.

Butneverbetween Blake and Izzy.

No, those conversations belonged to Mr. Chest and Scooter’s Amy, two free-spirited people who happened to now be textual friends. AVP Blake and HR Izzy were definitely not those people.

“In or out?” Ben from IT said, pausing beside me. “Don’t get stuck between me and my caffeine, HR. It won’t go well.”

I smiled and went into the break room, forcing myself toonlylook at Ben and not the executive who was wearing a gorgeous blue suit with a stunning striped tie. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I didn’t peg you to be a coffee drinker,” he said as he wandered toward the side of the room where the bank of Keurig machines were lined up. “You seem like a tea person.”

“I feel insulted by that assumption, for some reason.” I was talking to Ben, and looking at Ben, but somehow hyperaware of the fact that Blake had noticed us. I don’t know how I knew, but I justfeltit. “I’m all about the Red Bull, to be honest.”

I went over to the vending machine that had Red Bull in the third row, and held my debit card against the reader, my back to the side of the room where the coffee machines lived.

“What’s up, Blake?” I heard Ben say.

“Just getting my fix, you know,” Blake’s deep voice said, and I bit down on my bottom lip, refusing to turn around.

“Same, same,” Ben replied. “I’m surprised I made it this long.”

“It’s all up from here, right?” I heard Blake say, and I could hear that he was walking toward the door. I still didn’t turn around, and I let out my breath when I heard his footsteps exit the break room and head down the hallway.

Thank God.

Because I didn’t want to see Blake Phillips, AVP, and I definitely didn’t want to interact with him. I knew it was a little delusional, thinking I could keep this going without catching feelings, but I wasn’t ready to be realistic.

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