Page 25 of In Love and War
Fuck me, he smells so good.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A lie, of course. I’d actively stayed out of his way and avoided him as soon as I’d left my father’s office that morning. Not to mention I had chosen to sit in a secluded table away from where his team was celebrating when, technically, I should have been celebrating with them.
But I couldn’t very well tell him that. Because then I would have to explain that I had talked to my father about how they’d met, and the story was obviously… personal.
“Amelia.”
Goose bumps invaded the surface of my skin. I hated how he said my name.
“Zackary,” I mirrored, still refusing to look at him.
“Is this about the tacos?”
I let out an involuntary giggle, relaxing. The whiskey seemed to think that was funny.
“I haven’t been avoiding you, Zac. You’re reading into it,” I said, still laughing, before looking back up at him.
Huge mistake.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one amused. He was grinning from ear to ear as he watched me laugh. The dimple dipping into his left cheek was so deep, I was tempted to trail my finger around it instead of my tumbler.
“You know what I do need to do?” I asked, clearing my throat, which was all of a sudden very dry.
“What?”
“Get you a drink.” And more importantly, get myself another one. “I am technically on Margaret’s team and yours won, so…” I waved our waitress over.
I couldn’t help but notice the way she was flipping her strawberry blonde waves and smiling at Zac a little more than was necessary when she took our order.
“Are you excited about New York? Seeing your old team again?” he asked once she was gone.
This was the second time in two days he was making casual conversation. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when this part of our dynamic had shifted, or why.
“Honestly? Yeah, I miss them quite a bit. I thought we would be keeping in touch more than we have been. But I’ve barely talked to any of them since I moved.” It’s what happens when your job is such a large part of your life. It’s difficult to keep up with too many people that aren’t constantly with you in that environment.
“You mean other than when you were plotting your takeover of the Emerson account with them to get back at me, of course.” His dimple was back.
“Oh, of course, but we spent less than an hour coming up with that plan. It really wasn’t as difficult to infiltrate your biggest account as you’d think.” I knew the smirk on my face was smug as I started to mess with him again, but I couldn’t help it. “I really was hoping for a bit of a bigger challenge, Mr. Evans.”
“Well, I felt a little bad, Amelia. I thought maybe this was your way of trying to spend all that alone time with me you were wanting.”
Touché. And the ball was back in my court.
Our waitress (Eloise, as she’d introduced herself to Zac) dropped off our drinks. Mine came with a side glance and his with a small folded piece of paper that she slipped beside his phone before walking away. He didn’t open it.
“That logic checks out. Who wouldn’t want to spend a bunch of time with, and voluntarily report to, a… what was it, again?” I brought a finger to my chin before continuing. “Oh, that’s right. ‘An intolerable, arrogant, pompous ass,’” I quoted seventeen-year-old Milly’s words, passing the ball.
“You, apparently. Didn’t have enough the first time around. Had to come back for seconds, did you?” He suppressed a smile as he took a sip of his beer.
And then something occurred to me. We had been so busy the last couple of weeks that I hadn’t picked up on it, but…
“Speaking of, you haven’t given me a single note on any of the Emerson work I’ve sent you. Are you just saving it all so you can dump it on me during the performance review?” I asked, putting our other little game on pause.
To my surprise, he hesitated for a bit, taking another sip of his beer.
“No notes.” His response was reluctant, and he avoided eye contact when he said it.
No notes…?
