Page 42 of My Ex's Best Friend

I shake my head.

Kiera, what are you even thinking?

We’re in Paris. I’m so close to achieving everything I want from my career in this project. I cannot sabotage myself by digging up the past unnecessarily, and definitely not by ruining things with Jake.

Forget about it, Kiera.

***

We pull up to the city center, finding ourselves at the base of the building that houses our new office.

I take off my sunglasses. “Wait a second. This is our office?”

“Yep,” Jake says as he parks down the block.

We’re surrounded by historical buildings, each at least a hundred years old.

“How much is this costing us?”

“Actually, we got a pretty sweet deal.” Jake glances at me. “You like this place?”

“Like? This place is amazing.” And that’s an understatement.

"Each building in Paris has its own character, doesn't it?"

I nod, looking at him. Our tastes are very similar.

We make our way to the third floor, anticipation building as we approach the entrance.

The office is a hive of activity. Workers scurry about, arranging furniture, hanging artwork, and putting the final touches on the space. Boxes lie scattered, awaiting unpacking, and the walls echo with the sounds of construction and the hum of conversations.

"It's a bit chaotic at the moment, but it has potential," Jake says while I survey the chaos.

“I love it. It's like witnessing the birth of something new," I say. “Just like art.”

“Just like art,” Jake echoes. “Well, that’s one way to put it.”

Jake and I walk further into the building space.

“Wow, I can’t believe this place.”

"Might as well get our hands dirty.

“Let's set up our office space before the meeting,” Jake says as he starts to fold his shirt sleeves.

I can’t help but stare at the veins popping up on his forearm. My mouth goes dry, and it takes me a few seconds to recover.

Get a grip on yourself, Kiera!

"Are you sure? We could leave it to the professionals."

“They’re doing their job, of course, but I want to get my space just right,” Jake says, looking around.

“There’s the old Jake I know,” I blurt out. “I mean, you always wanted things in a particular way.”

“Yeah.” Jake says, trying not to drag out the awkwardness, but he looks so bashful. Both Jake and I have brought up our past on multiple occasions, even though we swore that we wouldn’t. Some things are just impossible to ignore.

“I’ll help you,” I offer.

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