Page 13 of Never With You
RE: Rucking
Carly,
Interestinglist. I’ll add to what you just sent me. People who make lists:
7. Might be obsessive
8. Have OCD
9. Like to be in control
10. Hate having fun
11. Are uptight
You can keep working on this particular list while you’re in Cabo.
Downgrading to just regards,
Nate Farnsworth
Sales Executive
Voyager Travel Events
“Nate Farnsworth is the absolute worst!”I dramatically fling open the breakroom door, marching toward Shelly and Taryn's table.
Taryn chokes on her Diet Coke, and Shelly sits taller, raising a finger to cut off my rant. But I’m already spewing my next thought like a bad case of food poisoning.
“I get that he’s ‘Voyager Travel’s most eligible bachelor and the reason we come to work every day.’” Their words. Not mine. “But”—I point at Taryn, who’s chomping to get in on this conversation, but I’m not finished—“he’s still the worst human that ever existed. Maybe he’s not human. It wouldn’t surprise me if he were the devil himself. That’s how bad he is.” Shelly’s eyes widen in horror. “I know, I know. It’s blasphemy to suggest the ‘office hunk’is Satan’s spawn, but there’s no other conclusion. He went behind my back and got me kicked off New Zealand and then acts like Cabo is some amazing consolation prize. Cabo sucks! But Nate wouldn’t know that because he has never been to Cabo. No, he travels to Croatia, the Maldives, Norway, Paris, and Bali! MY BALI!” Taryn and Shelly fidget like my little speech makes them uncomfortable, but none of this passion should be new to them.
“Oh, and he says, ‘someone with your personality’ like I’m so unbearable because I enjoy making lists. Then, he apologizes, but it’s not a real apology. ‘I’m sorry if YOU misconstrued my tone.’ He’s such a jerk. Everyone else might buy into his nice-guy persona, but he’s not fooling me.” I dramatically point to my chest. “I’mthe onlyperson in this office who isn’t swayed by his ‘pillow-soft lips and angel eyes.’” I pull out the chair in front of me and plop down at the table. “It takes a lot more than a perfectly round derrière to impress me.”
My chest lifts and falls dramatically as I huff. I stare expectantly back at my friends, giving them the floor they desperately wanted moments ago, but they don’t speak.
No, the room goes awkwardly silent.
Their eyes dart from me, to something else, and then back to me.
Everything clicks. All the fidgeting. All the crazy eyes. All the efforts at interrupting me.
“He’s behind me, isn’t he?”
Taryn’s grimace and Shelly’s nod should have been enough confirmation, but like an idiot, I reach my arm back, fingers colliding with what’s most likely Nate's six-pack. Either that or he’s wearing a metal breastplate under his button-up.
My hand drops—as does my heart.
Why is this my life?
I stare at my friends, hoping one of them rescues me, but it’s Nate who moves first. He sits down, his body facing mine. I don’t look at him, but my peripheral fills in the gaps. Casually and ever so confidently, he leans his elbow onto the table, pitching his body into my personal space.
Cowering will only make things worse, so I slowly turn my head, meeting his glimmering brown eyes and pompous smirk.
“Hey, Carly.”
“Nate.” There’s a slight raise of my chin. “I didn’t know you were in here.”
“Yeah, your speech hinted as much.” His look is both smug and amused.
