Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(20)

She’s vile.

When the know-it-all is out of earshot, I turn to Ross. “Oh my God, do you think I’m fucked?”

Ross folds his hands together, and I can sense some uneasiness in his shoulders. “What could Roberts possibly do? Not give you internship credit because you’re dating an Agitator? That’s not a thing.”

“Are you sure? It’s Alan Roberts we’re talking about. He once fired someone for wearing cologne that smelled too much like his late father.”

“For the record, it was not an appealing cologne. I think everyone was happy with that decision.”

“Ross, I’m being serious. Do you think this is going to mess with me? Should I call it off with Silas?”

“Can you?”

“We didn’t sign a contract or anything. Just kind of shook on it.”

“Do you think you could cut things off with him? Would he be okay with that?”

I think back to the way Silas looked at the bar, then at my dorm, like this was the lifeline he’d been looking for. Even though I barely know him, I feel like I also owe him for what he did for me at the bar.

Goddammit, look at me having a conscience. This is why I’ll never be a killer businesswoman. I don’t have the instinct to only take what I want and not let emotions get in the way.

“I don’t think he’d put up a fight if I called it off, but I’d feel guilty.” Really guilty.

“Then why don’t you figure out what Roberts wants first and go from there. Because thinking up ideas of what he might possibly say to you is not going to get you anything other than a stomachache and anxiety.”

“You’re right,” I say. “I need to make that appointment as soon as I can, then I can worry after the meeting.”





Three hours, five cups of coffee, and four nervous pees later, I’m sitting outside Roberts’s office, waiting for him to call me in.

I considered texting Silas at least a dozen times while I waited. I drummed up every possible way I could break the news to him that I couldn’t go through with the deal, but every time I came close to considering sending him a message, I chickened out and told myself to wait it out. No reason to ruffle feathers if I don’t need to.

“Mr. Roberts will see you now,” his assistant says while buzzing his door open.

I quickly stand, pen and paper in hand, and open the door to his expansive office.

I’ve never been in here . . . ever . . . but I heard he has the best view, and whoever I heard that from was right. It’s a corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows, rich mahogany furniture, and a wet bar to the right decorated with cut-glass tumblers and beautiful decanters. Fancy . . . just like his combed mustache.

“Miss Owens,” he says while lifting his head. “Please, take a seat.” He gestures toward the black leather chair in front of his desk. His office reminds me of an old-timey cigar salon. Not that I’ve been in one, but this is what I would envision. Deep, rich woods and leather, the smell of success in the air, masculinity oozing from the floor, seeping into your feet. Lowly interns like myself don’t belong here.

Once seated, I rest my pad of paper on my leg and poise my pen, ready to take down any notes.

“I see that you have chosen hockey as your final assignment.”

Chosen, ha!

More like rudely forced.

“Not to brazenly correct you, but it was assigned to me. As I’m sure you’re aware, I’ve focused more on lifestyle while working here. Sports hasn’t necessarily been my thing.”

“Some might challenge you that hockey is a lifestyle.” He picks up a pen and clicks it as he leans back in his chair.

Uh, I beg to differ, but then again, who am I to argue with the boss?

“I suppose you’re right, Mr. Roberts.”

He stares at me for a few moments. “How long have you been dating Taters?”

I always find it odd when people use last names when talking about individuals. Probably a boys club kind of thing.

“Just a few weeks,” I answer, my palms starting to sweat.

“A few weeks. Why haven’t I seen anything in the news about it? You know who the Agitators are dating is always circulating.”

“Yes, well, we wanted to keep it really quiet at first.”

“I see. What made you want to come out with your relationship?” Is this really appropriate work talk? Feels more like a gossip sesh.

Like, where’s the HR representative? I have no idea what my fake personal life has to do with my job. If I wasn’t so terrified about fucking up this internship opportunity, I would ask him what his intentions are with this conversation. You know, really stick up for me and “my man.”

“What made us come out with our relationship . . . well, we were spotted out in the world and figured we couldn’t hide forever.” That is somewhat true since we were spotted kissing in the bar by Candace, Yonny, and Ross. There was no hiding after that.

“Well.” He leans forward and rests his forearms on the desk. “Were you aware that I was going to purchase the Agitators?”

Huh, that’s news to me.

“I was not aware of that. Are you a hockey fan, sir?”

“I am. I played my entire childhood and a little in college on a club team until I hurt my knee.”