Page 34 of Crossing the Line
Girl Talk
Paisley Grove
Imake it back to my office, and after my first two meetings, I sit at my desk, my face buried in my hands, trying to sort out the morning I had emotionally. First of all, I’m happy I called Greg and asked him to bring me back to the office. On weekdays, he’s usually in the city to drive my dad around. But Xander Grove rarely leaves the bank during the day, and Greg mostly ends up twiddling his thumbs. During our car ride, we caught up like old friends. But I didn’t have much I could share. I certainly couldn’t tell him that I was starting a strange but exciting friendship with Hercules Lord, who, by the way, was engaged to someone he never officially asked to marry him. How weird is that? The idea that an individual can be pressured into marrying someone for the sake of money and family sounds so primitive.
Instead of sharing the goings-on in my life, I mostly listened as Greg told me all about how he’d fallen back in love with his ex-wife. They met again recently at her father’s funeral which was held in Trenton, New Jersey. The reunion reminded him why they had gotten married in the first place.
“We were friends, Pais. Always had been. We were married right out of high school. Our twenties were tough.” He rubbed his chin, gazing out the windshield as if in his mind’s eye reliving those difficult years between them. “Growing pains.”
My intercom beeps, yanking me out of thoughts about my conversation with Greg. I check the time at the corner of my computer screen. It’s almost four o’clock in the afternoon. I yawn. I’m exhausted, but I feel restless. And frankly, I really don’t want to do any more work for the rest of the day.
I do not enjoy my job—not at all. Up until now, I would never have admitted that to myself or out loud. I miss coding. But I don’t want to work for Max or GIT. I want to work for myself. I want to go rogue.
“What’s going on, Ru?” I say in a lackluster tone.
“You have a visitor.”
“Did I miss an appointment on my calendar?”
“Nope. She’s not scheduled to see you.”
I rub my throbbing temple. I’m on the verge of telling Ru to send whoever it is away, but that wouldn’t be wise. I’m the head of GIT’s public relations and have to think about the company’s image and the impression I give when people walk into our office. Basically, I can’t be rude, cold, or indifferent. I must always be on my game, smiling, kind, and accommodating.
“Well, who is it?” I ask.
“She says it’s a surprise,” Ru replies.
I swivel in my chair to look out at my northern-facing city views. Pretty soon I’m going to be in my soaking tub. I can’t wait.
“Could you please get a name?” I ask, doing a horrible job of constraining my agitation. Ru is usually a pro at managing random people who show up unannounced, seeking access to me.
Suddenly, my door flies open. “No, she cannot.”
Recognizing the voice, I swivel around in my chair. “Treasure, what are you doing here?”
As usual, Treasure presents as a stunning beauty. She’s wearing a pair of red, green, brown, and gold striped skinny pants with a fitted white T-shirt and brown leather espadrille sandals. Treasure’s outfit is simple but chic and made especially for her.
“This is what I’m doing here,” she says.
I notice the cellphone in her hand. She’s closing the space between us, pointing the screen at me. It’s a photo of Hercules and me sitting at a table for two inside the doughnut shop.
I gasp sharply as a knot forms in my chest. “What the hell?”Who in the world is walking around town taking pictures of us?It’s weird. Scary.
Treasure plops down in the chair across from my desk and makes herself comfortable. “I saw the kiss too. So, you tellmewhat the hell is going on.” Her eyes are shining which indicates that she’s intrigued more than alarmed.
“It was nothing,” I say, failing at playing it cool because I’m fidgeting in my seat.
Her head falls into a side tilt. “Pais. It’s me. Number one, you can’t bullshit a bullshitter. And number two, I can be accused of randomly kissing guys like Hercules Lord, but you can’t. He means something to you.”
I’m experiencing sensory overload, and knowing my cousin, I’m sure she’s trying to get me to say something I can’t take back. “Wait a minute,” I say, throwing my hands up and waving them. Then I allow myself to feel the excitement of having my cousin surprise me with her presence. I mean, her bright eyes, bright-red mouth, and classically gorgeous face are right in front of me. “Treasure, what are you doing here? When did you get to New York?”
She wiggles her finger. “No. Don’t change the subject. Are you screwing Hercules Lord again?”
“Again?” another familiar voice asks.
Treasure twists in her seat, and my eyes expand at the sight of Lake standing in the doorway.
Damn it.I cover my face with my hands and groan.Great—now Lake knows.
