Page 48 of The Revenge Agenda

“I dunno, the trash?”

The trash? I splutter over my words. “And what if we need something from the junk room that’s no longer a junk room and we can’t access it because we’ve thrown it away and it’s now at the dump?”

“If it’s in the junk room and you haven’t used it, then chances are you’ll never need to.”

“But in my hypothetical scenario, I do need to, and now I can’t.”

“Then buy it again,” Eloise says, and I’m sure she only refrains from adding dum-dum to the end of that sentence out of respect for the workplace.

“But if I buy it again, then I have it again, only in this scenario, I now have no junk room to store it in, which means I have to throw it out again, and now two things I can’t use are at the dump.” I shake my head sadly. “Honestly, Eloise, it’s easy enough to suggest a man gives up his junk room, but you haven’t thought this through at all.”

Her mouth hangs open. “I’m going to make a coffee.”

I snatch my to-go cup off my desk and hold it out to her. “Pretty please.”

She takes it with a deep sigh, and if that’s how she’s already feeling at ten in the morning, it’s going to be a long day for her. Maybe I’ll order her some flowers to perk her up. I grab my phone, but as I go to attach the headset, my eyes land on the missing body—er, tape.

“Did you take my tape?” I ask Autumn.

She glances up from where she’s just answered a call, and as she greets them, she holds hers up to me.

Eh, it’ll do.

I tear off some tape, then attach it to my image so I can finally attach the image to the pot.

And of course, now that whole ordeal is over, Hunter is back at his desk.

Oh well. What’s he going to do? Throw me and P.L. Ant out on our asses? I don’t think so.

We shoulder open his half-closed door, and I let myself inside. “Morning!”

His lips twitch. And considering it’s been three whole days of not seeing him or that lip twitch, it immediately lights me up inside.

“Rush.”

“Hunter.”

“Carey.”

I hold up the pot. “P.L. Ant. I named him.”

His gaze drops to the pot. “You named him?”

“Of course. We’re basically in a custody battle right now—he needs some sense of belonging.”

Hunter licks his lips, but his eyes are full of amusement. “Are you going to want to see the plant in a bow tie as well?”

“That could be the best idea you’ve ever had.”

He hums. “How about flexible work arrangements for a good idea.”

“I think I’m still a fan of the bow tie thing.”

He laughs and points to the chair. “Sit your ass down.”

I fold into the chair, hugging our pot to my midsection. “Okay, tell me your idea.”

“You can’t show up on time to save your life, so now you don’t have to.”

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