Page 14 of For The Record

“You could say that… Managing celebrities’ Twitter accounts will be the death of me,” she replies, popping out one earbud and then the other. My eyes follow the movement of her fingers as my mind wanders back to Ryder’s party. The same question plagues me: should I have kissed her? Skye gazes straight ahead, brown eyes fixed on the metal doors, oblivious to my internal conflict. Which is probably a good thing considering we’re in an office elevator that anyone could get on, and we left things between us on a completely friendly basis. Well, somewhat friendly. “How about you? On your way to frighten a poor child on his birthday?”

I chuckle, feeling the stiff mask of professionalism drop from my face. “I think you meanentertaina child, and that’s pro bono, I might add.”

“My bad,” she says as we watch the numbers tick down from forty to thirty-two. “So where are you headed?”

“Lunch with your ex-boyfriend, my ex-girlfriend and some of the other talent at Volume.”

As the elevator stops to let a horde of grey-suited corporate executives get on, Skye moves closer to me. Her hand brushes mine, the bracelet on her wrists jangling. I tuck my hands into my pockets since we’ve both made it abundantly clear that we don’t want to be anything more than two people who occasionally see each other outside of work. And I made it abundantly clear that I didn’t have time for even my family, let alone a girl that I just met.

One almost-kiss does not a relationship make.

“Sounds like a rollicking good time.”

I bite back a laugh. “Who still saysrollicking?”

“Poppy. My roommate.” Skye raises an eyebrow, looking up at me with this pride and protectiveness flashing in her eyes that makes it even harder for me to hold in my laugh. “Are you the word police now?”

“I was only curious. Speaking of curiosity, where are you going? Playing hooky?”

One might consider our relationship that of friends, and friends can inquire about other friends. It’s an entirely normal action. I mean, I would never ask Mark Leong about his weekend plans or speak on anything more than an acquaintance level with Annabelle, but…

“I have a date.” She glances down, then her eyes dart back to my face as though gauging my reaction. I school my features into a blank smile. If I didn’t know better, I would say that I just had a mini heart attack. “You’d be a terrible actor, Leo, which is probably why you’re a clown. The date is with my dentist. I have a root canal.”

I relax. “You’re a minx, and you just insulted and complimented me in the same sentence.”

More people get on the elevator, holding coffees and chattering into headsets.

Skye moves closer to me, her perfume wafting toward me. “So, you can use the wordminx, but you’re going to insult my vocabulary?”

“I envy your root canal.” I change the subject, half-serious. Calling her a minx was a mistake. I have no more claim over Skye Holland than I do over this elevator, even if I will be seeing her for dinner tomorrow night. “It sounds more fun than my business lunch.”

“Want to play hooky with me? We can get matching root canals,” she jokes.

Okay, maybe we can’t be just friends. “I’m not really a matching anything kind of guy.”

“Not even tattoos?”

“My mother would kill me.”

“Latina mother?” I suppose she guessed it from my surname.

“And Catholic.”

“So if you had to choose between the tattoo and the root canal…”

“The root canal, any day.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Skye nods, more hair slipping free from her messy braid and tangling in her earring. She tugs gingerly at it, wincing. “Can you…”

“Of course.” I pull lightly at the strand, removing it from the clasp of her feather earring, and tuck it back in place. My fingers skim the underside of her jaw, feeling her pulse flutter, before pulling away, remembering that there are other people in the elevator. I’m almost tempted to say,we have to stop meeting like this, but the lie about her necklace I told Ryder was just that. A lie. Just like the promise of us being something more than casual.

“Thanks.” She touches her earlobe as if checking that I didn’t take off with her earring.

“You’re welcome.” We reach the ground floor, waiting for the other occupants to stream out before getting off. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, Skye.”

“Only if you survive lunch. Good luck!”

#

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