Page 31 of Play Pretend

“Nothing.”

“Trin—”

“Nothing. Really.”

My gaze stayed on hers, waiting for her to crack and spill all her secrets. But she just folded her arms over her chest and stared right back.

She huffed out a breath as she rolled her eyes. “I didn’t do anything.”

“The coffee.”

“What about it? You know I don’t drink that stuff from here.”

“You did something to it. It tastes weird.”

“Ask one of your deputies. They’re the only ones who touch that pot of sludge,” she said. I shook my head. What was she talking about?

“You make coffee for us all the time.”

“Yeah, but not today.”

I ran through my morning, trying to remember who was responsible for this. But I had no idea who had brewed it.

“Oh!” She snapped her fingers, and I let out a breath. Of course. “I quadrupled the serving. Much stronger.”

A grin tugged at her lips as she sank into the chair across from my desk and kicked her Converse-clad feet on the edge. It took all I had to not push them off.

“Are you kidding? This shit is undrinkable, Trin.”

As if on cue, someone from deeper in the department shouted her name, and her head fell back as she cackled. She truly was a menace to society and was single-handedly giving me premature gray hair.

And ruining coffee for every person in this damn building.

I leaned back in my chair with a groan and ran my fingers through my hair. It was likely a mess from doing it all morning, but I couldn’t stop. Her brow creased, like she was just noticingthe state I was in for the first time. Which wouldn’t be surprising. She was usually in her own little world.

“What’s your deal?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” It was my turn to lie.

She snorted and sunk deeper into the chair, looking like she didn’t believe a single word I said. Her arms stayed folded, her feet stayed propped, and her gaze stayed on mine. Unwavering.

It was unnerving.

“I can sit here all day,” she said smugly. “And tomorrow. And the next day. I’ll sit here for the rest of my life.”

“You have a job?—”

“My job is to know what’s going on with you,” she shot back.

“That’smyjob,” I countered. “I’m older.”

“And I’m smarter, prettier, funnier, better smelling?—”

“I get it.” I held my hand up, but laughter still rattled my chest. “You’re all of those things…and nosier.”

“Me? Nosey?” She gasped dramatically. “No way. Now tell me what’s going on. Leave nothing out.” I opened my mouth, but she held a hand up, mocking me. “And don’t say you’re tired. You’re always tired. Nothing new there.”

I tapped my fingers against the wooden desk. Telling her about Willow’s request would mean opening myself up to her opinion, and I really didn’t want that. But bouncing ideas off her might help.

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