Page 6 of The Moon Also Rises
“I'm not here on a freebie. I have a job to do, and I'm going to do it.” I don't like how stern I sound, nor that I can't seem to follow it up with a smile, but I need him to take me seriously. He seems to absorb what I'm saying, the only movement on his face the raising of both eyebrows as he looks up from his phone.
I continue to explain, “I met Bill and Simeon at an event, years ago. We stayed in touch on and off, and when they heard through some other mutual acquaintances that I was looking for a new opportunity, they approached me with this role. But they expect me to work, and I expect to be held accountable for that work."
“You have nothing to prove to me.” Jake holds up his hands. “I'm just being bitchy because your laptop is nicer than mine. I am very, very good at being a bitch, FYI. But I’m also excellent at my job so I'm afraid you'll have to put up with one to get the other, especially if you're sharing my office for a few days.”
I smile despite myself. "I can cope with that. Are you a gossip as well as a bitch?"
“That depends. If the subject of gossip is more attractive than me then they’re fair game.” Jake leans back in his chair and I feel like he’s finally looking at me properly for the first time, his eyes wandering a little over my face.
“Well, at the risk of having my ego trampled on again—” I begin but he interrupts.
“Again? You mean the postman thing? Oh, that’s a compliment. Most of the post room are gym rats who are also volunteer fire fighters. They’re the best lookingandmost decent humans in the whole building,”
I chuckle at this, unsure if it’s true.
“Well, could I ask you to not tell anyone else about how I got the job here? I’d like people to base their opinions on my work rather than whatever tenuous connections I have.”
Jake narrows his eyes at me. “I’m detecting an accent. What is it?”
I swallow around the lump that automatically pops up in my throat. I spent ten years in California, getting an accent was never my plan but I suspect it happened regardless.
“I used to live in the States,” I say, hoping my vagueness isn’t an invitation for more questions.
“No, no, that’s not it. Where did you grow up?”
“Oh,” I say, taken aback. “Birmingham. Is that what you’re hearing?”
“Yes!” Jake claps his hands together. “That’s it! It’s almost adorable. Listen, your secret is safe with me if you can do me a favour.” Jake pauses as I nod. “I really need to find a date for this wedding in just over a month and I’m failing miserably. I am going to spend the next hour or so making some phone calls. You mind putting up with that?”
“I can put up with that.”
“Good. And can you listen to them judgment-free, please?”
“I never talk or think badly about people more attractive than me,” I say, surprising myself.
“Ha! You’re smooth. But it won’t work on me. I know you’re only trying to butter me up so I keep your nepotistic connections to BS on the down-low.”
“BS… Shit!” His eyes widen in shock. “That’s what you call Bill and Simeon?”
“Sharon started it!” Jake points at the door she walked out of earlier.
“It never seems to be your fault, does it?” I joke. I can’t help but laugh, even though that makes the pink flush of his cheeks turn scarlet.
“Ugh, you’re annoying me now.” He tuts before looking at his phone again.
His dismissal of me, albeit possibly in jest, rubs on a nerve I didn’t know was so raw.
“Haven’t you got phone calls to make?” I say, defensiveness rising in me.
“Don’t remind me.” Jake groans then rubs at his forehead.
“Why can’t you just go to the wedding by yourself?”
“It’s my ex’s wedding,” he says, his gaze back on something outside.
“Your ex invited you to their wedding?”
“Well, I suppose calling him my ex is a bit of a reach. We’re former… ugh, what’s the word…”
