Page 29 of A Ticking Time Boss

He shifts closer. “Haven’t seen you around before. Where do you work?”

“The Globe,” I say. He’s cute enough. Very smiley. About my height, and probably similar in age. Clearly an option, which is why my insides feel like they’re on fire, and not in a comfortable way.

Exposure therapy, I repeat. Exposure therapy.

“Wow. Impressive,” he says, shifting closer again. “Here alone?”

“Mhm, yes. Having a blast, though. There are incredible people here.”

“They sure think so themselves, too,” he says beneath his breath. Then he laughs and fits his arm next to mine on the bar top. “You look new. Not from New York?”

“I’m from upstate.”

He laughs again, like I’ve told a joke. “Well, I know all the best spots in the city. Why don’t I show you around one day? I think a connection at the Globe would be excellent. Doesn’t hurt that you’re easy on the eyes, either,” he says with a wink.

I lean back. Everything about his charm is backwards. “Where do you work?”

“The Quintessential,” he says, naming an online-only publication. It’s renowned for posting articles without citations or facts and not caring at all. “Tell me something. Why is a girl like you here alone?”

I grip my glass tighter. “I think I’m going to do a sweep of the floor now.”

“So soon? Why don’t we—”

“There you are,” a familiar voice says from behind me. It’s smooth and cultured, but there’s no mistaking the masculine edge beneath it. “I’m sorry I was late, baby.”

Carter puts a hand on my shoulder and I catch the scent of him, cologne and aftershave and something that’s clean like soap.

Creepy-guy’s eyes drift between us. “You two are a couple?”

“Yes,” I say, leaning into Carter’s side. “Going on three years.”

He puts his empty glass on the bar with a sharp twang. “Shoot,” he says, all graceful subtlety, and stalks off.

Carter takes his hand away and turns to me. “You looked cornered.”

“A bit, yeah. Thanks.”

“Saving you from awkward situations with men seems to be my forte.” He raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you’d be here tonight, kid.”

“Me neither, until about two hours ago. Booker had a ticket she couldn’t use, so she very kindly gave it to me.”

“Very kind indeed,” he says. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Yes. I can’t believe who’s here. I spoke to Eugenia Lee earlier. You know, the woman who reported from—”

“The cartel wars,” Carter says. “I know.”

I smile up at him. “You know a lot about this industry.”

“More than you expected me to?”

“Well, I didn’t say that.”

His voice is dry. “You didn’t have to.”

“I should have known better, after you showed me that dive bar.”

He shrugs and looks out over the crowd. But he’s angling toward me. “Maybe I just read about that place to impress you.”

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