Page 32 of Mr. Big Shot

I’d like to note that I’ve been working in law for a decade, and I’ve never—not a single time—developed a crush on a coworker. In fact, I’ve never even come close. I’m usually so focused on the task at hand that I’m more liable to forget the name, face, employment status, etc. of the person I’m dealing with than to develop a real human connection with them. When I first started working with Lucy, I’d call her “Hey lady out there” until one day she got so fed up she threw her rolled up newspaper at my head and told me I’d “better get some manners” and I’d “better get them real quick.”

So to have this reaction to a coworker, a junior associate, an Elwood no less…

It’s laughably bad.

The same day I needed the ice pack, Scarlett had a care package delivered to my desk around lunchtime. Inside of your aunt’s chunky wicker basket from the ’60s was a jumbo-sized bottle of Aspirin, a pill organizer labeled with each day of the week, a pair of reading glasses, a crossword puzzle book, and some caramel candies. A corresponding note said, “Take it easy, old timer!” which just…goddammit it made me smile, okay?

I ended up giving the basket to Lucy. She absolutely loved it.

Well…she loved it once I convinced her I was only giving it to her out of the goodness of my heart and no she didn’t have to work late and no she didn’t have to come in on Saturday and just take it already!

My one real saving grace in all of this—other than my surly attitude perpetually turning Scarlett away from me at every instance—is the fact that Scarlett is spoken for. Scarlett Elwood is not single, and I’d do well to remember that when I’m jerking off like a horny teenager in my shower every morning thinking about her.

I need a fucking hobby.

Chapter Eleven

Scarlett

“Moira, it’s just a pretend pumpkin! Leave it alone!”

Moira doesn’t listen before she swipes my little festive pumpkin from Target’s dollar bin right off my TV stand. It’s the third Halloween decoration she’s tried to sabotage. The small hanging ghosts I attempted to put up over the weekend were so personally offensive to her she had them ripped out of the ceiling in a matter of minutes. The black papier-mâché bats? Reduced to dust.

Maybe Halloween just isn’t her thing. Maybe in another life she was one of those moms who didn’t let her kids read Harry Potter and thought Halloween was just a way for the devil to access your soul through slightly melted snack-sized Snickers bars.

Or you know what? Maybe Moira is just more of a Christmas girlie. Either way, she will not let me get into the spooky holiday vibes!

I yank the wooden pumpkin off the floor, and she hisses like she wants me to know there’ll be a round two if I’m not careful.

“I’ll put the pumpkin away, okay! You did it! You beat Halloween, you jerk.”

There’s a knock on my door. It’s Jasper, here with our dinner, and not a minute too soon because I was about to rip into my pantry and eat another few fistfuls of pre-dinner chips.

“Come in, come in!” I say in a rush. Then I help him unload the brown paper bags from our favorite Thai restaurant onto the kitchen counter. Yellow curry, yellow curry, yellow curry. I’m just repeating it like that in my head, doing a little happy dance while I get plates and forks.

I haven’t seen Jasper in almost a week because of our hectic work schedules, and it doesn’t even occur to me until he stares at me with two arched brows that I forgot to greet him in a proper girlfriend way.

I laugh. “Sorry! Hi! Thanks for bringing dinner!”

I arch up on my toes and plant a kiss on his cheek. It feels weird, but then again, everything with us feels weird lately. Ever since I started working full-time, we’ve fallen out of sync somehow. He moves left, I move right. He’s free, I’m busy. He wants to go out and meet friends, I want to chill after a long day. I feel like I’m getting on his nerves and vice versa. Worse, we haven’t slept together in weeks.

But it doesn’t feel like I can just snap my fingers and make it better. In fact, there’s this niggling feeling in my gut that I’m purposely pushing him away and I don’t know how to stop, or if I even want to stop at this point…

He’s already launched into talking about his day at work, and I nod along, having a hard time keeping up with all the key players. It changes so much week to week! Like I thought Helen was an attorney in your office, but she’s the opposing counsel? Oh, you do work with a Helen, but this is a different Helen. Okay, but can you just please pass me the pad thai before I dart across this table and yank it out of your hands because how long could it possibly take you to scoop a little mound of it onto your plate and keep it moving? Why do you keep stopping to emphasize your point? I will listen to whatever story you want me to hear while I’m eating.

“I feel like you aren’t listening,” he says with an exhausted sigh.

I blanch and look away from the to-go carton in his hand. “I’m sorry. I am.”

My stomach gnaws on itself, and he sets the pad thai down a mile away from my outstretched hand. Like did you not think I would maybe want some of that right after you? I’m the one who requested it. ARGH.

“You’re distracted, I get it,” he continues. “It’s hard to wind down after a long work day and I know you have it harder than most working with a difficult team like yours…”

I frown, not sure how I’ve given him that impression. Short of the first week I started, I’ve been extremely mindful about what I share with Jasper concerning my relationships at work. I know he’ll take every tiny situation and blow it out of proportion. No, things have not really improved with Kendra and the gang, but it sort of feels like it’s been put on ice for now. In the last week, there’s been a decline in snide remarks. No one’s inviting me to lunch, but I’m not holding out for that. I’ll just take a neutral work environment. That’s all I want.

“My team is fine,” I insist.

He snorts. “Barrett told me who you’re working for. Hudson sounds like a total prick.”

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