Page 15 of The Revenge Agenda

Then I try to remind myself that I’m not nervous as I plow through my remaining work for the day and forget the drinks are even happening.

Five thirty creeps up on me, and I purposely hang back as my team goes on ahead. I’ve reviewed their files, know that they’re all meeting the majority of their goals. Apparently, Rush’s candy trick must work for him … somehow.

I squash down the little nugget of guilt at how I spoke to him earlier and remind myself he’s the kind of man who deserves it. He was my fiancé’s man on the side for a year. A fucking year.

I reach for some of the embarrassed fury that comes so easily to me.

Did they snuggle in bed, laughing over how stupid I am?

Did Ian ever tell Rush he was better than me? Is he better than me?

Why the hell did he do it?

I groan, scuffling my hands through my hair, hating that my thoughts have cycled back to the same repetitive loop. This was supposed to be a fresh start, dammit.

All I need is to let the resentment go. Somehow, Rush has the lowest mistake percentages on his paperwork, usually has everything in on time, and the customers love him. I need to be a professional about this. Detached. He’s a different person at work, and I can hate him behind closed doors.

Releasing a long breath, I pull on my jacket, fix my hair in my phone camera, then head to the bar down the block.

Ted told me Urban Dive is a busy place in the afternoons because people from all the local businesses meet up there before heading home. If we’re doing one drink, then surely I can cut things off in half an hour; there’s no reason for us to be there all night. I’m their boss, not their friend, after all. I want to break the ice and make sure we’re all comfortable with each other before I have to come in and manage them.

Ted was right about the bar. It’s full of people in suits when I step inside and probably feels busier than it is because it’s so small. It’s fully wood, with greenery and hanging string bulbs over the bar area, so many voices mixing together I can’t make out the music coming from the speakers.

It takes me a minute to spot Gates and Autumn hugging a small table near the bar.

Come on, Hunter. You’re good with people. You only need to make it through half an hour.

I glance around again as I cross toward them and spot Eloise at the bar. She’s alone, and even as I search, I don’t spot any more familiar faces.

The knot in my gut lessens.

It looks like Rush chose not to come.

It makes it easier to breathe and smile when I reach my team at the same time as Eloise does. She hands over a beer with a shrug. “I took a wild guess.”

“Any beer works after a long day, thank you. Though, as the boss, I should be treating all of you.”

Gates laughs. “Think of it as a welcome gift.”

“And you can get the next round,” Autumn adds.

Next … round? I open my mouth to let them know I can’t stay long when I’m cut off from answering by someone colliding with my back. I stumble forward, knocking into the table and sending drinks sloshing over the sides of the glasses. Somehow, my beer stays in my hand … and also all down the front of me.

“Fuck.” I shake my free hand out and turn to find Rush standing there, mouth hanging open and hands in the air.

“I’m so sorry,” he rasps.

Autumn giggles. “Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time that’s happened.” She reaches over and pulls Rush to the table. “Maybe if you were on time and concentrating, you wouldn’t always get yourself into these messes.”

The shock slips from Rush’s face as he scowls. “I maintain society’s obsession with time is unhealthy.”

I set my drink down as they bicker and swipe at the front of my shirt. Thankfully, it looks as though I wasn’t covered in as much as I thought I was, and while the wet spot over my stomach is uncomfortable, that’s the worst of it.

“Well, we tried to give you a good welcome,” Eloise says. She’s wearing dark red lipstick, black-framed glasses, and is absolutely stunning, considering she has four kids. Aren’t kids supposed to, I dunno, turn you into a haggard, sleep-deprived troll? Clearly, I have a lot of experience.

“Just an accident,” I say tightly, willing myself to believe it. I might not like Rush, but even someone like him wouldn’t do that on purpose. At least that’s what I want to believe.

“Tell us about you, boss,” Gates says. “Who’s our fearless leader?”

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