Nemesis(3)

Cohen continues to study me, and I find myself squirming a little. I start to fuss with my hair, something I tend to do when I’m a little nervous.

“Do I make you nervous?” he asks, calling me out, which either makes him a jerk or just the no-bullshit type. I’m hoping it’s the latter.

I instantly drop my hand. “No,” I lie, then add, “It’s just not every day that I sit at a café with my boss, hoping I don’t have chocolate all over my mouth whilst trying to pretend I’m not awkward and terrible at small talk.”

He throws his head back and laughs, drawing attention from others around us. “Your honesty is so very refreshing, Jacinta. No, you don’t have chocolate on your face, I would have told you if you did. We can skip the small talk, and I don’t mind your awkwardness. Be as awkward as you want, it doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable. In fact, I find it strangely compelling.”

Only because he is so confident. I don’t think anything could make him feel uncomfortable. He’d probably dominate every situation, and somehow turn it around to benefit him. He seems the type. Is he a control freak? I think he is.

I pick my fork up and lift another bite of chocolate deliciousness to my lips. “Okay.”

“Good,” he says, thanking the waitress as his coffee arrives. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Me?” I ask, shaking my head. “No, thank you.”

If I want something, I’ll get it myself.

“You sure?” he asks, bringing the mug to his slightly parted, full lips. “I’ve noticed you always seem to have a cup of coffee attached to your hand. You want me to get you one to take back to the office?”

Suspicion fills me. Is he always this nice, or does he want something? “I’m good.”

A woman walks past, giving Cohen the eye. He doesn’t pay her any attention, but it has me wondering just who this man is. Does he have a girlfriend? What’s his story? Why did Debra warn me away from him? Maybe she had a thing with him, and was playing the part of a scorned lover. All she said was that he had a reputation, but I’m not one to listen to gossip. I like to make my own decision about people and judge them by how they treat me personally, not by rumours.

“You’ve been working here for a few months now, right?” he asks, bringing me out from my thoughts.

I nod. “Yes. Four actually”

“Do you like it?” he continues, then looks down at his watch. “Shit. I should be getting back.” He throws some money on the table, way more than what his coffee would be. “Can we continue this conversation later? Same time tomorrow?” He flashes me a devilish smile, stands, and says, “Nice talking with you, Jacinta.” Then he departs from the café, leaving me staring behind him, wondering what the f*ck just happened.

Same time tomorrow?

I don’t think so.





Chapter Two


“He pretty much pretended he really liked me, and that he wanted to date me so I’d f*ck him, and then bailed after I did. Boned and motherf*cking bailed,” Sadie says, staring into her tub of cookies and cream ice cream. “All he said was that he isn’t ready for a relationship. Completely changed his tune.”

“Asshole,” I mutter, handing her some gummy bears. “Forget him, he’s obviously a dick. Just learn from it and move on.”

She picks out the red bears from the packet and shoves a few in her mouth. “I have the worst luck in men.”

She says that line so much it’s going to go on her tombstone.

“Maybe you should stop the whole online dating thing,” I suggest, shrugging. “Or at least take a break from it.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, putting the lid back on the ice cream. “I know. I just end up going back to it whenever I get bored. So many other people have met good men on there. It’s just me who somehow finds the dregs of society.”

I open another bottle of wine.

Sadie and I have known each other since we were about nine years old, and have been inseparable ever since. We’ve lived together for the past ten years, since we moved out of our parents’ homes at eighteen. I personally think she’s freaking out because she’s almost thirty and single, at a time where most other women are getting married or having babies. She says that her biological clock is ticking, but for some reason I don’t feel the same pressure that she does. There are worse things than being single. If I end up being a single dog mum, so be it. It actually sounds like a pretty good life to me.

An hour later, we’re jumping on the bed singing along to “Zero” by Chris Brown, Sadie’s broken heart temporarily forgotten. Then we fall asleep, surrounded by candy wrappers.

*****

I swallow two painkillers the next morning, trying to look alive so no one at work notices my hangover. The problem with living with your best friend is that fun times aren’t always saved for the weekend; they can get out of hand at any given moment. I paid a little more attention to my appearance this morning to hide the bags under my eyes, or so I’ve been telling myself. I didn’t spend an hour ironing my hair straight, or an extra half an hour trying to get the perfect wing eyeliner for my little lunch chat with Cohen. Nope, I didn’t do that at all. As a matter of fact, I brought my own lunch today, for the first time ever, hoping to avoid him. I made cute little sandwiches, a fruit salad, and brought a thermos of coffee, so there’s really no need for me to leave my desk today, except to use the bathroom. I don’t ask myself why I’ve thought about this so much, or why, when the elevator doors open and Cohen walks out, I look down at my laptop to avoid his gaze.