Page 96 of Fresh Canvas
Brandon grasped my hand and shook it. “It’s nice to meet you Amantha.” His green eyes swung to his watch. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to run. I have a long day of training ahead of me,” he said.
“Training? Are you a new hire?”
“Yeah. I interviewed a while back but didn’t hear back until yesterday. They wanted me to start right away, I guess.”
“Good for you. I know how tough the interview process can be.”
“That’s a fact. And thanks.” Brandon drained the rest of his coffee and dropped his cup in the garbage. Before he left, I stopped him with a question.
“Oh, I didn’t even ask.” I smiled warmly, taking another sip. “What position did you get hired for?”
“I’m Val Russo’s new assistant.”
Ibarely had scooped my jaw off the floor before Kate shot into the break room like an agent on a mission, her waist-long black hair fanning out behind her.
“Amantha, what do you mean Val—” She must have caughtBrandon’s tall form in her periphery, because her mouth stopped short as she did a double take.
In an instant, Kate froze into a mannequin wearing a lime silk blazer and black cigarette pants. Her hand had even stopped mid-air, halfway to her gaping mouth.
Only the myriad of emotions flashing through her dark, triangular eyes hinted that something was wrong. Even from across the room, I saw them shift from astonishment to anger, and then… something else I couldn’t quite place.
Brandon’s face softened as he took her in from head to foot, a slow grin lifting in response.
Instantly, Kate’s mouth snapped shut. She straightened her blazer before meeting his waiting gaze again. The question she asked almost soundedbored.
“What are you doing here, Brandon?”
“Aww, Katie. It’s good to see you again too.” Brandon leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and ankles. The strategic placement of his arms puffed out each massive bicep, and according to the smirk on his face, he knew it too. “And I work here now, love,” he said.
“Don’t,” Kate snapped, her bored facade cracking as she pointed a manicured finger at him, “call melove. Or Katie. And grow up, Brandon; we’re not in college anymore.” Kate slid her eyes down his body, shamelessly taking in every inch of him before she said, “I mean, at leastI’mnot. I guess you can take the boy out of the frat house, but you can’t take the frat out of the boy.” With that, Kate threaded her arm through mine and marched me toward the door.
“And here I thought we’d have more time to catch up. What are you doing, love?”
Kate shot Brandon a sugary smile, though it wasn’t close to touching the fury in her eyes.
“Ghosting you. Or did you forget?”
Without another word, we were gone.
twenty-six
AMANTHA
“I’ve never met a bigger prick.” Kate’s spandex-covered behind rose into the air as her head dropped to her yoga mat. “Please let me call my assassin friend. I’m begging you.”
“To kill Brandon? Or Val?” My upside-down face felt like it had begun to purple. I swung upright, trying my best to follow the yoga instructor’s flow. My white tank threatened to split in two if my arms stretched any farther.
The outdoor yoga session in the city park was filled with at least twenty other participants, their mats evenly spaced along the grass. Kate’s phone rang, earning dirty looks from our neighbors.
“Ugh. It’s my mom.... Uh, hello?” Her nose wrinkled as she listened, like the conversation itself smelled bad. “For the last time, I’m not letting you set me up again!” She glared down at her yoga mat. “Because I’m an independent woman who doesn’t need some Ivy League clone?”
Kate’s mom must have kept arguing, because Kate pressed the mute button and held the phone away from her.
“Stupid Kentucky debutante upbringing. Do this, marry that…” She sucked in a breath and unmuted her phone. “Listen, I’m at yoga right now. Can wenottalk about this later?” When the call ended after a few moments, Kate shoved her phone into her bag and resumed the yoga flow.
Obviously choosing not to address the conversation, Kate swung one leg into the air as her head hovered millimeters from her mat—a perfect mirror of our yoga instructor.
“Maybe my assassin friend has a BOGO sale? Buy one kill, get one free? Or would that be a BOKO?” She righted herself and looked at me with a hopeful expression.
