Page 2 of Flirting with the Enemy

Sweet victory

Seth

She’s not the only one who’s overjoyed with this travel arrangement for the conference. I would rather fly in the cargo hold than sit next to her. Okay, that might be a stretch, but why her? When I peer to my left, she’s staring at her screen reading the same email I just finished. Her head slowly turns toward me, and I can’t help but flash her a bright smile knowing it will drive her crazy. Her gaze bores into mine for a few beats before she huffs, pushes away from her desk, and storms away. I’m stunned. I’ve never known her to not say anything. Did I finally break her? A moment later, Parisa storms back. Spoke too soon.

She stands at the corner of my desk. “This isn’t happening. I’m talking to Mr. Evans. At the very least, I want my seat as far away from yours as possible.”

I just smile at her knowing it will infuriate her more.

“Ugh.” She throws her hands in the air and turns around. I watch as her auburn hair skirts around her. Once again, she’s stomping away like a petulant child and, for whatever reason, I have a hard time keeping the smirk off my face. Wait, I know why. I take great pleasure in her annoyance. Then a ding draws my attention back to my computer as I read the subject line.

New Position Available: Marketing Director

I’ve been waiting for this day. Several months ago, I caught wind that Cindy, the current marketing director, was retiring soon, and it appears the time is now. Moving the cursor of my mouse over the email, I click and scan the words. Getting this position would mean so much, not only for my career, but the pay raise would come in handy in helping my parents. I move the email to my important file for later.

My desk phone rings and when I glance over, Bennett Pierce’s name flashes on the screen. Someone’s having a crisis. If I had to guess, it’s Trey. I grab the receiver and hold it up to my ear. “This is Seth.”

“Dude, I called you. Of course, I know it’s you.”

“Just making sure you didn’t accidentally dial the wrong number. Like that time you called me instead of the girl in house staging and proceeded to tell me exactly what your tongue was going to do to her that night.”

Laughter erupts from the other end. “Shit. Forgot about that. Her extension had the same numbers as yours just flip flopped. But you know I would have offered you the same treatment.”

“What you and your tongue were going to do , I didn’t want you doing to me. Hard pass. On that note, what do you want?”

“Come down to my office. Trey’s having a crisis.”

“He’s always in crisis. I’ll be down in a moment.”

I hang up the phone, rest my elbows on my desk, and thread my fingers through my hair, the marketing director position sitting at the forefront of my mind. I need to think of every possible way to secure that position. Pushing away from my desk, I stand and swivel on my heel, but suddenly my body jolts backward. All I hear is an oomph and papers flutter to the floor. When I lift my gaze, I’m met with a violent storm of hazel glaring back at me.

“Shit. Sorry. Let me help you.” I bend to collect the fluttering papers before they hit the floor.

“You know what, don’t bother.” Parisa bends over at the same time and our heads smack against each other. “Shit” Her hand flies up to her forehead, caressing the spot of impact.

“Sorry.” I finish collecting the papers in a pile and hand them over to her. “Do you want me to get you a bag of ice?”

“No. It’s fine. I’m sure you’d figure out a way to sabotage the ice.” She clasps the papers to her chest while still rubbing her forehead.

“It’s just ice.”

“You’d poke a hole in the bag so all the melted ice would drip on me or something.”

“Now that you mention it, let me get you some ice.” I cock my head to the side.

Parisa stands to her full height and narrows her eyes at me. “I wouldn’t take ice from you if it were the last ice on the planet,” she sneers. Then she sidesteps me and stomps back to her cubicle, one hand still rubbing her forehead while the other holds the askew stack of papers.

I knock on Bennett’s door before letting myself in. Bennett and Trey are bickering about the baseball game last night. Without interrupting their heated debate, I take a seat in the leather armchair next to Trey. Just as I sit down, two sets of eyes turn their attention to me and the room gets quiet. Then my gaze darts between the two of them before breaking the silence.

“What’s up, guys? What’s the crisis?”

Trey stands up and fumbles with his belt buckle. “I got this rash—”

Bennett busts out laughing while I punch Trey in the thigh. “Go to a doctor. I’m sure you have more than just a rash. But really, that’s why you called me down here?”

Trey rubs his hand over the sore spot, and he sits back down. “We heard about the job opening. You applying?”

“Of course, I am. I would be stupid not to. The only problem is Parisa. I know she’ll want that position just as much. And I’m slightly terrified she’ll try to shank me in the parking garage to get it.”

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