Page 18 of Forget Me

I shook my head. “Wait, where is Cooper?”

“He had to go to Singapore.” Ben sighed.

“The week after Christmas?”

He shrugged. “He’s a captain of industry, you know. Capitalism doesn’t take holidays.”

“How was your first Christmas together?”

“Good.” He grinned. “We went to Rosa’s, and she made the most amazing food. I couldn’t even tell you what half of it was, but it was delicious.” He rubbed his belly. “Mateo made this to-die-for bread pudding. I don’t even like bread pudding. Pudín de pan, they called it.”

“Mateo,” I grumbled. He was everywhere. At Bree’s wedding when I needed a minute alone. At my apartment when I needed to prep my presentation. Heat rushed from my chest up my neck. I hadn’t yet made up the ground I’d lost with Larissa from my botched presentation. When I’d sent the updated financials to her, her response was terse. And made no mention of the assistant director position.

“I don’t understand why you don’t like him. He’s hot, witty, and about the nicest guy you’ll ever meet.”

“Witty?” I snorted. I checked the gym doors, but we were still alone. “Dude is a meathead who can hardly string two sentences together.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. He told jokes at Rosa’s and had us all rolling on the floor.”

I shook my head. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. Besides, the guy hates me.”

“Hates you? He wouldn’t stop talking about you. About how beautiful you were, all dolled up at Bree’s wedding. About how smart you are.”

I snorted. “You must’ve had too much Christmas punch. No way he talked about me like that. He thinks I’m a giant nerd.”

The first time I’d met Mateo, soon after he’d moved to San Francisco to head up Cooper’s security detail, I’d been so overwhelmed—I had no idea people that gorgeous existed outside of superhero movies and fitness magazines—I’d let loose one of my dorky math jokes, the one about the infinite mathematicians.

He’d stared at me open-mouthed for a second, and then he’d said something about the weather. It had reminded me—painfully—of Byron. How he’d always frowned at my math puns. He’d said they made me sound ridiculous, like I was trying too hard.

And Mateo thought the same thing. That I was a Poindexter. An unattractive one. I always caught him staring at the parts of me Byron hated—my butt, my thick thighs. Byron had gotten me a set of exercise bands for my birthday one year.Booty Busters,said the label.

Muscle-bound Mateo must have judged my booty in need of busting, too.

But I was done talking about Mateo. Something niggled at the back of my brain whenever I thought about him. “Remind me when you’re starting your new job.”

“It’s really just a continuation of the internship I was doing. But my official, full-time start date is the fourth.”

“Look at you, Mr. Mature,” I teased him. “A degree and a grown-up job.”

“Hey, being an executive assistant is a grown-up job!”

Not according to Mom. But I didn’t say it. She never pressured Ben the way she did me. She knew women had it harder than men. As she’d told me a hundred times, because I didn’t pee standing up, I had to work harder to prove myself, to earn what they were given without a thought. Even my brother Ben had turned a spotty work history, the world’s longest bachelor’s degree, and a little help from his billionaire boyfriend into a great job at a foundation, doing exactly what he wanted. While I’d worked for free for a year, giving up my evenings and weekends, and was struggling to convince Larissa I was worthy to bring on staff.

“What about you?” he asked. “Any developments on the job front?”

“Actually…” I chewed my lip. “There’s a full-time position opening up at Jackson’s foundation.”

“With all your volunteer work, plus your financial experience, you should be a shoo-in.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t made the best impression on Larissa. Or Jackson. And it’s an assistant director position. I’m just a senior accountant at Synergy.”

“Want me to talk to some people? I could ask Cooper to talk to Jackson. Or I could do it myself. We see him and his family all the time.”

I scanned Ben from his button-down to his jeans. Was that acrease?Even his sneakers were scuff-free. Ben had a laundry person who took care of his clothes. And a real job at a foundation that helped at-risk kids. It was larger and better established than Jackson’s, so it wasn’t an assistant director position like I was going for. Yet. Still, in many ways, my little brother had surpassed me.

I couldn’t take advantage of his connections to advance. No, I wouldn’t lie to myself. I was too proud to take the help he offered. Too proud to admit I needed my younger brother’s help.

“No, thanks. I’ll do it on my own.”

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