Page 11 of Diverge

BESTIE

I love Grace like a sister, but sometimes she fails to see things from someone else’s point of view. I wish she would just understand me sometimes.

ME

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BESTIE

ME

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BESTIE

Placing my phone in the small pocket of the leggings, I take a sip from my coffee. I have no idea what Nate has planned today, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t somewhat interested.

I hadn’t been out in a while, and last night was the first night in a long time I really enjoyed just sitting and talking. It came so easily with Nate that I felt I didn’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. Contrary to when I am with Grace and her friends, when I feel like I constantly have to fit some type of mould... like be popular, funny, or have rich parents. I feel my phone buzz again in my pocket. Pulling it out, I read the message from Nate.

NATHAN

*****

“You still haven’t toldme where we are going,” I say matter-of-factly.

He smirks as he makes a left turn up a gravel road. We are surrounded by greenery and mountains since we have been driving for a few hours outside of Melbourne City. His eyes are hidden behind his aviator sunglasses, and he is looking extremely rugged and handsome today, wearing grey track pants and a black compression shirt that shows off his buff chest and abs.

How do someone’s abs show even when they’re sitting?!

I haven’t been able to take my eyes off him this entire car trip, and let’s not even mention the backwards cap.

“We’re almost there,” he states, driving past a sign that said Carmichael Falls. “How are you feeling?” He licks his lips, and I immediately look away, feeling the heat pool in my cheeks.

“I’m pretty good, considering how many tequila shots we did.” Laughing, I reach for my phone in my bag to find ten emails in my inbox flagged as important.

Everything is fucking important to everyone at this company.

Sighing, I open one of the emails.

Hi Billie,

Please see below email from our client wishing to change the advertisement. Can we please have this done by close of business Monday?

Many thanks,

Laura.

Reading the rest of the email chain from the client, I frown. How on earth am I supposed to change an entire advertisement that completely deviates from their original brief by the close of business Monday?

Are these people smoking crack?

Feeling Nate’s eyes on me, I turn to glance at him.

“Are you seriously working on a Saturday?” His deep voice questions, and he’s right. I shouldn’t be looking at my emails because technically I’m on salary and don’t get paid to work on the weekends, but the more my deadlines inch closer and closer, the more anxious I am becoming.

I turn my phone off and shove it back into my bag, determined to put all my attention on having fun today with Nate, no matter what he has planned.

“Nope, my phone is off.”

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