The Design(24)

I turned to watch her walk toward Grayson’s office. Beatrice caught me staring and did a finger-down-the-throat gag. I smiled and winked.

“Three times in two weeks,” Peter spoke up, drawing my attention back to our table. “That’s a record.”

“What is?” I asked.

“Grayson’s lunchtime rendezvous. I’ve never seen him bring women into the office like this before,” Peter said.

I shrugged with feigned indifference and tried to get back to work. The entire time Nicole was behind his closed door, my ears picked up on any subtle noises around the office. I swore I heard her moaning, but no one else stirred so I figured I was imagining it.

Twenty minutes later, as I walked back from the break room with a cup of microwaved soup, the door to Grayson’s office opened and Nicole stepped out. Her blonde hair was more tousled than when she’d first walked in. Her red lipstick was smeared beneath her bottom lip and she tried her best to walk casually en route to the elevators, but it was clear what had happened. My stomach rolled with anger and jealousy. Fuck him, f*ck him, f*ck him.

Any appetite I’d had a moment before was now replaced with the need to vomit. I dropped my cup of soup into the trash bin near my desk, knowing that if I held onto it for another second, I’d hurl the entire thing at his door.

“Everything okay?” Peter asked, eyeing my poor soup now splashed along the inside of my trashcan.

“Peachy!” I answered with a fake smile before turning to Alan. “Alan. I finished my work from this morning. Do you have anything else I can work on?”





Chapter Nine





I didn’t see Grayson in the office again the rest of the week, and my confidence in his attraction to me was starting to wane. Every day, he arrived before I did and either left after I was long gone or while I was otherwise occupied. Who knows. Either way, I was two shots shy of storming into his office just to confirm he was still alive.

On Friday evening, I stood in front of my closet, incredibly annoyed that Grayson had chosen to avoid me since our little fight at the job site. Knowing him, he’d probably try to bail on dinner as well. After all, it was a dinner celebrating my new position at his company—a position he undoubtedly regretted giving me.

I sighed as I sifted through my cocktail dresses, hoping one would jump out at me and scream, “WEAR ME! I WILL MAKE GRAYSON BEG ON HIS HANDS AND KNEES.” Oddly enough, I was left on my own. I guess my clothes weren’t feeling particularly chatty that evening.

A gentle knock on my bedroom door distracted me from my dress hunt and I turned to find Hannah standing there with a cup of yogurt in her hand. She peeled off the foil lid and licked it clean as I waved her into my room.

“Heading out?” she asked, eyeing my hair. I’d just finished swooping it into a low knot at the base of my neck.

“Yeah, just a dinner. What about you?” I asked, turning back to my closet. Hannah and I were still working out our boundaries with one another. Living with her was kind of like living alone. She usually got home late after hanging out with friends and I usually got home late from working. In the mornings, we had our walk to work, but she usually liked to check in with her mom then, so really, I was living with a ghost.

That's not to say that I hadn't learned anything about her. I knew that she preferred the thermostat set at freezing temperatures, she had a rule about dishes (namely that she didn’t do them), and she preferred to blast rave music at 6:00 am while she was getting ready for the day.

It wasn’t all bad: she’d left out some chocolate cake the other day and I’d stolen a bite so small that I’d convinced myself she wouldn’t be able to tell. Hey, sometimes you gotta take what you can get.

“Oh, you're off to dinner? Fun. I don’t have any plans tonight. Well, not unless you count binge watching some episodes of Law and Order.”

I frowned at the dresses hanging in front of me. I wanted the dinner to be just Jason, Brooklyn, Grayson, and me, but I also didn’t want to leave Hannah alone by herself. We weren’t really friends, but this would be a good opportunity to get to know her better.

“Why don’t you come with us? It’ll be fun,” I said with a smile. “It’s actually going to be a small group, and Grayson is going.”

“Our boss, Grayson?” she asked with raised brows.

I nodded. “He and my sister are old friends.”

Her brows raised even more. “Your sister the pop star? Oh my god, will Jason Monroe be there too?”

I forgot how weird it was for other people to hang out with my family. To 99.9% of Americans, Brooklyn Heart and Jason Monroe were the new “it” couple in Hollywood, the stars they saw splashed across magazine covers in disgustingly cutesy poses when they checked out at the grocery store.

“Yes, Jason will be there too,” I answered, trying to downplay the whole situation. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“Oh my god! Let me just get dressed really quick.”

…



Two hours later, as I watched Hannah put her hand on Grayson’s shoulder for the third time since our appetizers had arrived, I deeply, deeply regretted inviting her. Why did I have to care? I should have let her watch SVU reruns until her eyes popped out. Because of my need to be friendly and polite, I’d all but set myself up to be the fifth wheel in heels.