How to Fail at Flirting(25)

Everyone paused, the room still, before they all began talking at once. My pulse raced, and panic inched up my body. I excused myself from the conversation to move into the less congested hallway.

Breathe. Breathe.

I couldn’t appear like I would faint in the middle of a crowd of senior colleagues and notorious gossips who already had a low opinion of me. Instead, I looked down at my phone.

    Jake: Just about done.

Jake: Any thoughts to how I can even out that creepy/sexy ratio?

Jake: I have more cheese puns just in queso emergency.



I stared at the message, and the laugh froze in my throat. What if someone finds out I’m sleeping with him? They’ll assume I’m trying to sway him. Women had been professionally blackballed for less.

I considered fleeing the mansion. Ahead of me, Jake stood at the other end of the hallway with a group of men in suits, his back to me as he looked down at his phone, then back up to finish a conversation with Carlton.

They laughed, and Jake clapped the other man on the shoulder. A fleeting thought had me worried he was laughing at me, and every available insecurity crept into my consciousness. My hand trembled, and I typed out a reply.

    Naya: I’m standing behind you.

Jake: See, that’s more creepy than sexy.



“Jake,” I said as his partner stepped away.

Jake turned, confusion clear on his face until we made eye contact. His eyes were wide, and his lips tipped to the side, a cautious half smile spreading across his face under furrowed brows as he walked to me. “What are you . . . doing here?”

“I work here,” I said unsteadily, and took a small step backward as a stream of administrators left the large room where we’d gathered. Apparently, an open bar wasn’t enough of a draw to stay after the bombshell that had been dropped.

He cocked his head. “I thought you were in town on business,” he reasoned, more to himself than to me.

“You never said you did consulting, especially not with colleges.”

“You didn’t want to reveal anything work related, remember?” His expression was even, his posture relaxed. In the midst of the crushing fear of losing my job, I imagined his fingertips and lips on me, all the while holding the pink slip. Of all the men in all the bars in the city, I picked this one to flex my flirtation skills on.

A raspy, almost desperate-sounding laugh escaped my lips. “This is so bad,” I whispered, taking in the familiar aroma of sandalwood.

“It’s not so bad,” he reassured, tracing a fingertip over my shoulder as he brushed my hair away. The intimacy of the gesture rocked me unexpectedly, both in how much I enjoyed it and how terrified I was of others observing us. I stepped back again, and recognition crossed his face as he dropped his hand. “Okay, it’s not great, but it could be worse.”

“How?”

“Let’s talk somewhere with a little more privacy, okay? This thing is winding down.” He waved to the shorter man, Carlton, who tipped his chin toward us before walking back into the gathering. “Is your office close by?”

I shook my head, still glancing around. “If anyone saw us, it would raise questions. You’d have no reason to be there.” Nervous energy coursed through me. Logically, I knew no one had probably even noticed us, but I was still fighting the urge to look over my shoulder for Davis.

His voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. “Your place, then? It feels a little illicit to hand you my hotel room key here.”

“Okay,” I said in a small voice.

“We’ll talk it through. It will be okay. I promise.” His arm twitched, and my eyes widened, hoping he wouldn’t touch me again here. His eyes were curious, and a crease appeared between his eyebrows.

This guy must think I am nuts.

“I’m sorry, I just . . .” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence once I started it, still conscious of eyes on me. The back of my neck tingled, and a thousand thoughts tripped over one another. “I’ll text you my address.”

He nodded slowly, and I turned and exited the mansion alongside the stream of people. I didn’t look back at him or at the others as we walked into the warm evening, a light breeze shifting the air around us. I paused on the sidewalk, and my hands shook as I opened the Uber app. Luckily, I’d only have to wait a few minutes before I could step away from what was increasingly feeling like a stage.

I looked from left to right again to make sure no one I knew had been watching me. I needed to tell Joe about the announcement, but I didn’t plan to tell him I had slept with one of the consultants. Bea and Gregory waved as both walked hurriedly past me, and my phone buzzed in my hand, making me jump.

    Jake: Don’t freak out, okay? It will be okay.



I couldn’t do anything other than stare at the message. It wouldn’t be okay—there was no way we could keep going with whatever we were doing. I cursed myself for not wanting to talk about work. I could have avoided all this the night we met. But then he would never have kissed me. And I wouldn’t know how his hands curve to the back of my neck or how it feels when his eyes lock with mine, looking at me like I am the only person in the city.

The car pulled up, and I climbed into the back seat, tucking my phone back into my purse.

What am I going to do?