Page 23 of My Office Rival

Damn, she’s funny.This was a side of her I hadn’t seen before. “Maybe I will,” I shot back.

She rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on her face. “It’s my house too. So keep the territory marking to half of it.”

“Deal.” I crossed my arms and her eyes flicked to my chest. They lingered for a beat too long, and my skin prickled.Oh, she does want me.I flexed a little. I’d been needling her earlier, but it turned out I’d been right. I smothered a grin.

“So, ready for tomorrow?” I asked, as I moved to the cabinet and pulled out a protein bar.

“So ready.” Her voice was hard. “Though, on-site due diligence isn’t my idea of fun.”

“I’m not thrilled about being trapped in this town either. I’m surprised we’re even doing this, frankly.” I leaned back against the counter and frowned at her. She was settled in a chair with her snack and a glass of wine.

“Yeah, well, if your team had been a little more forthcoming, Gerald wouldn’t have pushed for this.” She arched a brow.

“That’swhy we’re here?” I didn’t add that Gene and team weren’t exactly forthcoming with us either. Something weird was going on there.

“Yep,” she said with a pop. “And now I’m trying to manage this and keep fucking Brett from stealing my deals.” She sounded murderous.

“Who is fucking Brett? Should I expect to bail you out of jail for murder?”

She grinned and took a savage bite of her cheese. “Like you wouldn’t just leave me there.” She scrunched her nose up at me. “And I wish. Killing him would be so much easier. He’s the new counsel at my firm. He totally has it out for me. He left his last firm on bad terms, and this is his last chance.”

I nodded. I knew the type. Firm attorneys had an expiration date. You made partner, or you left. It made for fierce competition, even among your peers at the firm.

“So now, I have to be on guard for him stealing my deals while I’m here and generally trying to make me look bad.” She bared her teeth.So fierce, this one. But isn’t that your plan? Make her look bad, drive hercrazy, then crush her?I shoved the regret down before it could blossom.

“At least you don’t have any happy hours to go to while you’re here,” I said lightly.

She blushed and looked down.Fuck.I couldn’t stop thinking about our night together, and the evidence of her enjoyment was written on her face.

“Did you, uh, mean what you said on Thursday? About thinking you won’t make partner?” she asked, cheeks still pink, her tone a little strained.

A breath loosed from my chest. “Yeah, I meant it.”

“I’m surprised,” she said frankly. “You’re really competitive. I always assumed you were gunning for partner.” She considered me while she sipped her wine.

“I might be competitive, but I’m not enough,” I said shortly. I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Maybe at one point, I wanted that, but you know how Covingly is. Those white shoe firms are all the same. I might look the part, but they know I grew up with nothing. They can smell the poverty on me. I’ll never be a part of their world, not really. I can win as many deals as I want, but it won’t be enough. Being partner is all about schmoozing. I can’t compete with the guy down the hall who spends his weekends golfing in the Hamptons and his lunch hour at the Harvard Club, who grew up doing those things.”And my past is the real stain. “And you know you need to get close to the partners to be elevated. That’s not me. I’m not…a sharer,” I said carefully. I didn’t get close enough to anyone for them to learn about my past.

Cynthia nodded. “I know that feeling.” She gave a small smile. “I spend most of my time trying to become the perfect firm scion. I’m playing catch-up now. I never really connected with the partners at my firm. I never wanted to stay at a firm this long. I always wanted to help people.”

“Ah, you’re one of those,” I scoffed.

Her face hardened, and she stood. “Fuck off.” She grabbed her glass and my gut twisted.

“Cynthia. I was kidding.”

Her movements were jerky as she dumped her empty plate in the dishwasher, brushing by me in a whirl of soft curves and fiery curls.

“You can make fun of me, but don’t make fun of my dreams,” she said shortly.

Regret was a stone in my stomach. “I didn’t mean that. I was joking.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not funny.” Her eyes flashed, and she whirled to climb the stairs.

My breaths were ragged in my chest, and I grabbed onto the counter. She darted one more glance at me, clamped her mouth, shut and fled from the kitchen. I squeezed the granite edge until I thought it would crumble under my grip. She would be my undoing. Getting close to her was a mistake. Caring what she thought was a mistake.

A mistake to sleep with her, a mistake to keep thinking about her, a mistake to room with her.Fuck.

14

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