The Chemistry of Love(7)

He added, “So if you do come up with something great, I want you to bring it straight to me, okay?”

Something in his tone felt . . . off. And he must have seen that in my face, because he suddenly leaned forward on my workstation, so close that if I had moved slightly to the right, we’d practically be kissing.

The thought of that made my brain short-circuit and forget what I’d just been worrying about.

His eyes lit up, a flirtatious smile flashing across his lips. “Are you going to the party tonight?”

“The company party?” I asked breathlessly. Of course the company party. What else would he be talking about? Minx Cosmetics always had a big event in January after everybody returned from the holidays to celebrate the previous year’s successes.

I’d had zero plans to go. I hated parties and being around a bunch of people. My idea of a perfect evening was sitting at home watching movies and/or playing board games. Standing around and being forced to make small talk felt like something the Geneva Convention should outlaw.

He nodded. “I hope you’re coming.” Somehow he managed to move even closer, and when my nerves started shorting out, I didn’t know if it was due to him or the possible cyclopentasiloxane ingestion. He murmured in a low voice, “It really is too bad that the company has that nonfraternization rule.”

I drew in a sharp breath. Nonfraternization rule? What? Since when? I’d never heard of it. That seemed like something Jerry would delight in reminding us about, over and over.

And a microsecond later, I understood Craig’s implication, and my heart leapt with excitement into my throat. That if there wasn’t a rule . . . that we . . . that he and I could . . .

It was like a dream come true.

I didn’t break rules . . . but maybe this one time I’d be willing to make an exception.

“Yes! I’m definitely going. I love parties!” I hoped he couldn’t hear how fake my words were. I’d always been a terrible liar.

Jerry’s door opened loudly, startling me. In my haze of excitement and hope, I’d totally forgotten about my disapproving boss.

What if he came over here?

What if Craig witnessed Jerry treating me like an incompetent idiot? That would be horrific. My intelligence had always been the trait I was most proud of. I didn’t want Jerry to make Craig look at me differently. That would be a total nightmare. I actually checked with my tongue to make sure my teeth were still in my mouth.

I was torn between the desire to have Craig stay close so that we could talk and wanting to tell him to flee before my boss ruined everything.

Even though I was doing a pretty good job scaring him off all by myself between my staring at him and drinking chemicals.

Jerry cleared his throat, and Craig glanced over his shoulder. “I should go.” He turned back toward me. “You’ll have to save me a dance, and we can talk more about those ideas of yours. Deal?”

“Yes!” He wanted to dance with me? I couldn’t imagine anything better.

“See you later,” he said with a wink, and my heart nearly exploded with delight. I watched as he walked over to join Jerry, and they went into Jerry’s office, closing the door.

I said a quick prayer to whoever the patron saint of cosmetic chemists was that I would not be the main topic of discussion between Craig and Jerry and then pulled my safety data binder out of the drawer as discreetly as I could. I quickly flipped to cyclopentasiloxane and saw that I needed to rinse my mouth out (done) and make sure I was still breathing (also done). I was good.

Catalina came over with a box that she set on my desk. “I’ve got some stuff for you to try out. A new mascara, this amazing organic face mask with honey and blueberries, a self-tanner that won’t streak, a long-lasting lipstick that’s supposed to be kiss-proof and sulfate-free.”

I blinked at her, my brain not shifting gears fast enough. I was still freaking out about Craig and what he and Jerry were talking about and whether I’d accidentally caused my own sterility, and she was bringing me stuff to test? To be fair, though, trying out each other’s products was something she and I did regularly—it always struck me as ironic that in our industry it was mostly men making women’s beauty products and that they did not personally test their own creations. Catalina and I were unique in that regard.

But testing lip glosses and eyeliners did not mean that I knew how to do makeup. Creating it and applying it were two completely different skill sets, but everybody expected me to be able to do both.

I picked up the lipstick and then put it back in the box. It was too bad that whenever I tried to do my own makeup, no matter how many tutorials I watched on YouTube, the end result often reminded me of Picasso.

“Just let me know what you think when you get the chance,” she said.

“Are you really not going to ask me about my conversation with Craig? We just had a really important talk. Life-changing.”

She made a noise like she didn’t believe me.

“It was! You would know that if you’d been there.”

“Counterpoint—the only other person who was there ran off.”

“He didn’t run off,” I muttered. “He has a job. He’s working. You just don’t understand.”

Given that Craig was currently distracting Jerry, I used this opportunity to fill her in on everything. Maybe if I gave her all the details, including the humiliating ones, she would see how momentous this talk with Craig had been.