Page 75 of The Probability of Us

“I don’t care who you spend your time with outside of work, unless it negatively affects the workplace. We’re all adults. As long as we can remain professional at work, I don’t care about anything else.”

The corner of my mouth tugs down into a frown. “Everyone says they don’t care—until they do. In my experience, it’s not an issue, until it is. And by then, it’s too late.”

“Analise,” he sighs and leans forward, placing his hands on his knees. “I respect that you have genuine fears about history repeating itself. But I don’t think I’ll come across talent like yours again, so I’m going to tell you something aboutmypersonal life. I’m married.”

“Oh, congratulations,” I say, slowly, closer to a question than a celebratory remark. What does this have to do with this conversation?

He laughs lightly, a smile growing on his face. “To Mac.”

“Oh.” It slips out on a breath as my face smooths out. “You know, I’ve thought a few times these weeks that if you two weren’t together, you’d make a good couple.”

He laughs, sitting back in the seat, and I let a smile creep onto my lips.

“The point is, you don’t have to worry about any repercussions from dating a co-worker, because I did it first.”

Now,Ilaugh. The weight I felt since the offer lifts—I feel lighter. “So, you’re not one of those hypocritical bosses who’ll punish someone for something they do too?” I tease, because I’ve had too many of those bosses and I already know he’s not one of them from the past two weeks.

But his eyebrows shoot up. There’s an amused smile on his face, and I blanche.What did I just say?He doesn’t know me well enough to understand my humor or that sometimes I can’t stop stupid things from coming out of my mouth.

“Sorry.” My cheeks heat and I look down. “Sometimes I speak before thinking. I know you’re not like that. I actually think you’re a really good boss from what I’ve seen.”

I press my lips together to stop rambling as he laughs. My cheeks get even redder.

“Does that mean you’ll consider the offer?”

I look up and smile at the hopeful expression on his face. I say what I wanted to say when I got the offer—before my worry clouded my excitement. “I think it means I’ll accept.”

He stands and reaches his hand out towards me with a smile. I stand and shake it.

“I’ll have someone send the documents over right away,” he says. “Now, you probably should go make sure Warren didn’t change his mind about going after Jason.”

I cringe. I don’t think he did—especially after I told him not to—but it was only last night that we were joking how the only time he’d kill someone would be if they hurt me. And this definitely qualifies. “Right.”

“Peter,” I say, just before he leaves the room. He looks back at me. “I know Matt is next in line on Jason’s team if you’re trying to promote from within, but whenever we want the work to be done right, we go to Victoria. I had to transfer her to my team because there were certain . . .” What’s the correct term for a boss who withholds promotions because his subordinates won’t go out with him? Jackass. Douchebag. Prick. All of the above. But I go with, “Barriers to promotion on her old team.”

His eyes widen and he nods slowly. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

Once he’s gone, I take a few minutes to compose myself and process the day. Thankfully, it’s Friday so I can leave now that it’s lunchtime. I think I’ve had enough drama for one day and I want to celebrate this good news with Warren.

But when I get to the conference room, he’s not there and all of his stuff is gone.

Thatfuckingidiot.

I stop breathing, anger surging through me and seizing my ability to function. I’m going to kill him if he went after Jason.

I’m digging through my purse for my phone when footsteps approach me, but they’re not heavy enough to be his so I ignore it.

“Analise?” A quiet voice that I recognize speaks, and after taking a deep breath, I look up with a smile.

“Hey, Jasmine. What are you still doing here? It’s early Friday.” Most of the office has cleared out by now.

“Mr. Mitchell stopped by my desk earlier and asked if I could give you this when you came looking for him.” She holds out a small, unaddressed envelope.

A note. He left a damn note.

I try to hide my frustration in front of Jasmine, but I don’t think I’m doing a good job. “Thank you, Jasmine. Enjoy your weekend.”

“Thanks.” She smiles. “You too.”

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