Page 23 of Babies for the Big Shot
Whatever. I survived the day again. I deserve a reward.
Back at Laura’s apartment, I drop my bag, kick off my shoes, and collapse onto the couch, every muscle finally giving in to the weight of the day.
Laura looks up from her laptop. “You look like you fought God and lost.”
“I had to make eye contact with the man I dry-humped in an elevator while discussing ad targeting.”
She winces. “Oof. Spicy.”
“It was not spicy. It was HR illegal with a side of please bury me under the floorboards.”
She tosses a popcorn kernel at me. “Okay, but like… hear me out.”
“No.”
“Justhearme out.”
I groan. “Laura?—”
“You clearly want to climb him like a corporate ladder. And he clearly wants to get lost in your blouse. So why not have a little fun?”
“Because he’s my boss.”
“And you’re notplanningto fall for him.”
“Exactly.”
“Then what’s the problem?” she says, as if this is simple math instead of emotional calculus. “You have insane chemistry.You’re both adults. Let off some steam. Flirt a little. Have fun. It’s not like you’re going tofallfor him, right?”
I laugh.
It sounds suspiciously like a lie.
Laura arches a brow. “Oh my god. Youlikehim.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Uh-huh.”
I throw a pillow at her and sink deeper into the couch.
“I should start packing soon,” I mumble. “The landlord said my unit will be ready in a week or so.”
Laura grins. “Aw. I’m going to miss our roommate era.”
“I think Meatball will miss you more. At least we’ll still be in the same building.”
From his spot by the fridge, Meatball lets out a snort, agreeing in his own way.
Or maybe he’s just waiting for cheese.
CHAPTER SIX
Nick
If hell exists,it looks a lot like this: forty-two floors above Manhattan, encased in polished steel, the air filtered to surgical sterility, the agenda dominated by men who think market share is the apex of human achievement. But none of that is what brands today as hell.
No. This particular circle is reserved for me alone. It is defined by one presence. Sara Brooks.
