Page 3 of Atlas
“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m not his old lady.”
“You’re practically his old lady,” she scoffs, taking the document.
“Why is everyone so obsessed with me and Atlas?” I’m being defensive, but I’m so tired of everyone treating me like his wife. “We’re not together. I don’t know why everyone struggles with that.”
“Because you’re meant to be,” she says with sad eyes. “He’s your king, and you’re his queen.” I arch a brow, and she begins to back out the room. “You’re his lobster.”
“Get out,” I say firmly, “and don’t interrupt me unless it’s urgent.”
“This is urgent,” she argues. “You realise that one day, he’ll meet someone, and you’ll miss your chance.”
I smile wide. “I can only pray for that day to come.”
“Liar,” she hisses, narrowing her eyes. “Where will you get your daily dose of D from?”
I laugh. “I’m not short on offers.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”
“Atlas doesn’t care,” I cry, throwing my arms in the air. “We’re both happy hooking up. Now, drop it.”
At four exactly, Tessa pops her head back into my office. “I’m heading off.” I nod. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind? The girls would love to see you.”
“I have a date,” I say, and she gives me that sad look again. I close my laptop as the door opens, and I stare past her to see my date. I grin, stuffing the laptop away and grabbing my bag.
“An early date,” Tessa mutters as I pass her.
“You found the place okay then,” I say, ignoring her.
Jonathon is exactly as he described himself on the dating app, which is a rarity. I’ve met so many men who have lied about their age, their body, and even their relationship status.
“I did.” He smiles and his white teeth gleam. Then he leans down to place a quick kiss on my cheek. “It’s great to finally meet you.”
I lock up and say goodbye to Tessa, who is judging me, but I’ll address it tomorrow.
We head to a bar at the end of the road. The bar workers know me here, so I always opt for this place in case anything goes wrong. You can never be too careful with dating apps.
“You’re a lawyer,” he says, shrugging from his jacket and placing it on the back of the chair. “Impressive.”
I scoff, waving my hand dismissively. “I hate putting it on my profile because I tend to draw out all the criminals,” I say with a laugh.
“Sometimes I prefer not to know,” he admits, wincing. “At the risk of sounding like a pompous prick, certain jobs put me off. Can I get you a drink?”
I nod. “Just a lemonade.”
He heads over to the bar, and I use it as an excuse to check out his tight backside. He’s wearing a suit, which gives me hope he’s got a good career. He rejoins me, this time taking his seat as he passes me the lemonade. “What jobs put you off?” I ask.
“Dog groomer,” he announces, screwing up his face as I laugh. “The hair, the smell,” he shakes his head, “I can’t deal with that. Also, doctor or nurse, anything medical related.” I arch a brow, and he leans closer. “Too busy. I need someone who’ll have time for me.”
“What do you do?” I ask, sipping my drink.
“Businessman,” he says with a glint in his eye.
I scoff. “That covers a variety of things.”
He grins, taking another sip of his drink. “Nothing shady, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I’ve been doing this way too long,” I say, running my finger around the rim of my glass. “And I’ll be honest, I get a warning sign flashing in my head when you talk.”
