Big Chicas Don't Cry(21)

“Sounds awesome. Just be ready to kick some ass on Sunday. All right, I really better go see if Mr. Dawson is ready to be appendix-less. Love ya. Text me later.”

“Will do. Bye, babe.”

If Deanna hadn’t had a patient on the table, I probably would’ve told her everything I’d overheard. It was better that I didn’t, though. Adrian’s words—especially that one in particular—still stung, and I needed to focus on the four stories I had to write.

Somehow, I managed to do just that.

I hit send on the revised school board vote story just after nine p.m. Exhaustion had set in, and all I wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and collapse onto my bed. The only people left in the newsroom besides Adrian and me were two photographers and our copyeditor, Steve.

Adrian barely spoke to me as he edited all my stories. That suited me just fine, and so I busied myself by catching up on Twitter and Facebook. I’d shut him out so much that it startled me when he finally said, “You can go.”

“Okay,” I answered. He didn’t need to tell me twice. I turned off my computer and grabbed my purse and sweater. With one last wave to Steve across the room, I stood up to leave.

“The lede still needed some work, but it was an improvement over your first attempt. I’m glad you took my constructive criticism to heart.”

Wait. What?

“Constructive?” I could hear the snarl in my voice, but I was out of fucks to give.

“Yes, that’s my job as your editor. To teach you how to make a story better. Anything I tell you, I’m only offering it as constructive criticism.”

“Oh, so now I’m teachable?”

Adrian narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what you mean. Everyone is teachable.”

“Even if they’re—oh, I don’t know—say, a mediocre reporter?”

Confusion crossed his face, and then the realization hit him. I should’ve been more satisfied by the way he kind of squirmed in his chair. But, again. Zero fucks.

“Listen, Erica, I—”

So I was Erica now? Hell to the nope. He’d been a complete ass to me all day, and he didn’t get to justify or try to explain it. I’d had enough.

I took a long, deep breath and willed myself to stay calm. “Look, Adrian. I’m sorry, but I’m really tired. Can we not do this right now?”

He opened his mouth as if to say something but then seemed to change his mind. He only nodded.

And that was all I needed to walk away.

He was my editor. One of my bosses. I had to make this work if I wanted to stay at the paper.

That’s when a thought hit me from out of the blue.

Do I want to stay at the News-Press?





Chapter Eleven


SELENA


My orgasm blindsided me.

It came so suddenly, so forcefully, that all I could do was mutter four-letter curse words and then curl into a shaking ball of tremors.

Totally amazing.

“I guess that was good for you, yes?”

Nathan rolled back onto the bed behind me and kissed my shoulder. I could feel the smug smirk on his face. The bastard.

“Obviously, you already know the answer,” I said between pants and smiled into my pillow.

Sex with Nathan had always been pretty fantastic. Duh? I wouldn’t have kept taking his phone calls if it hadn’t. But I couldn’t deny how next level this time had been. We’d started making out on the couch in his hotel suite as soon as we got back from dinner. And, honestly, if it hadn’t been for my growling stomach, I probably would’ve jumped him right there in the airport parking lot. It wasn’t that I’d missed him or anything like that. It was just that I’d abstained from any, um, self-satisfying activities since I’d found out he was coming back into town.

It was the longest two weeks of my life.

I was convinced that was the reason why I’d been extra responsive. It had nothing to do with missing him.

Nothing at all.

When my breathing returned to normal, I turned over to face him. “Can you tell that I’ve been waiting for this?”

He reached out and stroked my cheek. “I’ve been waiting for this, too, Selena. We shouldn’t go so long in between visits next time.”

“Hey, don’t blame me. Not my fault you’re slacking in racking up the LA clients,” I teased and playfully pushed his shoulder.

Nathan was in charge of West Coast recruitment for his agency, and Los Angeles was his number one region. When we’d met at the conference in San Diego last year, he wouldn’t leave my side once I told him that I lived in the city. But by the second day, he’d forgotten all about trying to lure me away to a new job and set his sights on trying to lure me into his bed. No wonder he was so good at his job. The man could be very convincing when he wanted to be.

“Ouch,” he said, feigning hurt. “Besides, last I checked, New York is only a plane ride away. When was the last time you visited?”

I laughed. “Um, I don’t think Umbridge & Umbridge would approve of me expensing a coast-to-coast booty call.”

Nathan laughed, too, and pulled me closer to him. “Maybe you should just get a job in New York then,” he said and kissed me.

I wanted to get lost in his kiss and his touch. But the budding apprehension in my chest kept me tethered to reality.