Page 21 of Pulse
“I wasn’t prepared for this,” I say, groaning as I hit the brake at a red light. My vanity mirror is clean,thank God, and I use it to pull my hair into a messy bun.
It takes three lights until I’m properly powdered, lipstick’d, and put together. I’m straightening my shirt when I roll up to the curb outside the auto shop. Light bounces off the glass door as it opens.
Oh fuck.
My mouth hangs wide open.
If he didn’t wake up this morning, look in the mirror, and wonder how he should dress to drive me absolutely out of my freaking mind, I’d be shocked.
Dark denim hugs his thick thighs. A tight black shirt skims his barrel chest, and a blazer hangs open in the front. He moves gracefully—confidently—with so much swagger that a man and a woman stop independently and stare.
Pull yourself together, Dahlia.
He reaches for the door when my phone rings through the car. I jump, hitting the button to answer it accidentally.
Troy climbs in, looking at me over the rim of his sunglasses before removing them altogether.
The slate gray of his eyes and the spicy, almost tobacco-y scent of his cologne team up to ruin me.
“Dahlia? Are you there?” a voice rings from my speakers.
Troy’s brows pull together.
Focus.“Yes. Sorry. Hi. Who is this?”
“Hey. It’s Theo.”
Troy sits back and latches his seat belt. His lips press into a tight line.
“Hey, Theo,” I say with a touch too much cheer and pull away from the curb. “What’s going on?”
“I just got out of a meeting with Ford. It looks like I’ll be working from the office for the next six weeks.”
Troy bristles at my side.
“Oh really?” I ask, smiling. I like Theo and all, but I really couldn’t care less where he works. What I do care about, and thoroughly enjoy, is Troy’s annoyance with this piece of information.I win this one, buddy. “Why?”
“Our contract ran out in New York and they didn’t renew. Ford asked if I wanted to work with Lincoln and his family when they move to Tennessee. Apparently, Lincoln is set to manage the Arrows baseball team.”
“Cool! Maybe he can get us tickets.”
“That’s what I said.” Theo laughs. “But they don’t leave for a couple of months, and there isn’t a short contract for me in the meantime.”
Troy mumbles something under his breath that I can’t make out.
“Sign up for snacks with Becca,” I say, hitting my turn signal and pulling onto the main road leading to the office.
“Snacks?” He laughs. “What for?”
“Um, the office. We’re snack-y. You have to pull your own weight around there.”
“What is this? Kindergarten?”
I laugh, too. “I’ll have you know that when we implemented a snack protocol in the office, our efficiency increased tenfold.”
“How does it work?”
“Every Wednesday, someone brings in a snack. There’s a sign-up form and list of allergies in Becca’s office. Here’s a tip. Only bring in homemade stuff if you can actually cook or bake. If not, prepackaged works just fine.”
