The Hating Game(106)

“He better not try to sway the interview panel. We need this to be fair. Ugh, I hadn’t thought about reporting to Mr. Bexley directly, without you as the buffer. I tell you, Josh, the man has x-ray eyes.”

“I want to blind him with acid.”

“You keep a vial of acid in your drawer?”

“You should know. You’ve been snooping in my desk and planner.”

There is censure in his tone but his eyes remain friendly as he slides his thumb into my arch and makes me purr.

“You’d resign, if I got the job?” He says it gently.

“Yes. I’m sorry, but I’d have to. At first it was my pride making me say it. But now it’s clearly the only option. I want you to know, that if they decide you’re a better fit for the role, I’ll resign happily. I’ll be happy for you, Josh, I swear. I know more than anyone how hard you’ve worked for it.”

I arch a little and sigh. “You’d be my boss. It’d be hot as hell, making out with the COO every chance I got, but we’d get caught for sure.”

“But if you get it?”

“I can’t expect you to resign, but I can’t be your boss. I’d give you inappropriate tasks and Jeanette would have a stroke.”

“And if I were your boss, I’d work you so fucking hard. So fucking hard.”

“Mmmm. I’d have dirty dreams all night.”

“You told my parents I was probably about to be chief operating officer. Did you mean it, or were you just adding to your long list of brags about me? It’s okay if you didn’t mean it.”

“If I were the recruiting panel, I’d look at our CVs side by side and you’d probably edge me out. You’re so good at what you do. I’ve always admired how well you work.”

I rub my hand on my chest to try to relieve the ache.

“Not necessarily. It’s not just the CVs. There’s the interviews. You’re charming. There’s not a person alive who doesn’t adore you instantly.”

“Says you. I’ve seen you in action, when you’re making an effort. You’re like a 1950s politician. Smoother than smooth.”

He laughs. “But you love B and G. And everyone there hates me. That’s your advantage over me. Plus you have your top-secret weapon Danny is spending his weekends on.”

“Yeah.” I dart my eyes away.

“It’s got to do with ebooks, I’m not an idiot,” Josh says.

“Why can’t you be an idiot for once? Just once, I want to keep a secret from you.”

“You’re keeping a secret from me right now. We haven’t gotten to the root cause of your freak-out.”

“And we’re not going to.” I pull the blanket over my head altogether.

“Very mature,” he comments and swaps my feet, squeezing my toes and circling his thumbs. “You can’t keep secrets from me for long. I know you too well. I’ll get it out of you.”

“Well apparently I’m a complete open ebook.” I groan in the dark. “Did Mr. Bexley tell you about my digitalization project? Please don’t screw me on this, Josh. Please. My entire presentation is based on it.”

“Do you seriously think I’d do that to you?”

“No. Well, maybe.”

I expect a whip-crack response. He says nothing, but continues to massage my foot.

I flip the blanket off my face. “Why didn’t you smile at me when we first met, and say, Pleased to meet you? We could have been friends all this time.” It feels like a tragedy. I’ve lost so much, and we have no time left.

“We could never have been friends.”

I try to pull my foot back but he holds on to it.

“So that’s a sore point.” He squeezes the arch.

“I’ve always wanted to be friends with you. But you didn’t smile back. You’ve been one-up ever since.”

“I couldn’t. If I’d let myself smile back, and be friends with you, I probably would have fallen in love with you.”

It’s all the past tense of that statement that kills the leap of joy inside. Because he didn’t, and he isn’t. I try to brush over it.

“You said that to me after the elevator kiss. We’d never be friends.”

“I was angry at the time. I was delivering you to Danny, and you were looking hotter than hell.”

“Poor Danny. He’s so nice. You’ll have to apologize for how you hung up on him. He’s been nothing but nice to me and all I’ve done is give him two shitty dates and made him lose a Saturday.”

“He got to kiss you.” When he says that, Josh looks like he wants to destroy planets. “And he’s not doing the freelance work completely out of the goodness of his heart.”

“Under different circumstances he’d be a great boyfriend.”

Josh is making black scary serial killer eyes at me. “Different circumstances.”

“Well, I’m assuming you’re going to chain me in your basement and keep me as your sex slave.”

This conversation is like a tightrope. One misstep and he’ll know. He’ll know I’m in love, and then I’ll wobble and fall. No safety net.

“I don’t have a basement.”

“Too bad for me.”