Page 36 of My Office Rival

“I’m getting soft,” I said.And maybe I am, where she is concerned.

“Thank you for looking out for me,” she said quietly. Something in me twisted at that. Her expectations of me were so low that even basic decency meant I exceeded them.

I looked away. “Yeah, well, I don’t want you to get hurt. But don’t get any ideas. You’re still opposing counsel, and this deal is going through. I’ll be standing on top when it does.”

She cocked her head. “I can’t figure you out. Some days, I think you’d murder me just to win, but other times, I get a glimpse of a completely different person.”

I shifted in my seat. She was too perceptive. And now she was staring me down like she expected a response. Anhonestone.

“Don’t you have a work persona and a personal persona?” I asked. Avoiding the question, but still a response.

She took a small sip of her coffee, those lovely brown eyes thoughtful and considering. “I guess so. But it’s not a dramatic difference.I’ve definitely polished some of my rough edges for the office. That Queens accent had to go.” She grinned at me. “But I still curse just as much as I do around my friends, I still drink a little bit more than I should. I’m not domestic or soft in my personal life, and I’m definitely not at work.”

I chuckled. “Yeah. I noticed,” I said dryly. “You never worry about being judged by the partners?”

“I used to.” She nodded. “Sure, when I was a junior attorney. But now? Fuck it. I have the skills to back up whatever I say. It’s too exhausting to pretend to be this neat, perfect woman. I’m a little too intense, a little too loud. I don’t care anymore.”

She shrugged and I swallowed.To be like that.So confident.

“You should try it sometime,” she added and winked. “Though I’m not sure how I would handle aniceJason.”

“Nice might be asking a little too much,” I murmured. “I could dopolite.” Deep down, I wasn’t sure if I wasnice, anyway.

“Nice is overrated,” she scoffed. “How about not rabid? I’ll settle for that.” She grinned at me.

“And give up my favorite method of tormenting you?” I raised a brow at her. “Nice try.”

She laughed and shook her head as she rose from her seat, scooping up her suit jacket. Today’s pencil skirt had a little slit in the back, and every time she moved, I got a flash of skin under black tights. I wanted to rip that skirt right up the middle. My hand clenched around the coffee cup.

She was still smiling when she turned to me and said, “No, Jason. I think we all know your favorite method of tormenting me has nothing to do with work.”

21

CYNTHIA

Saturday. The best day. The day I didn’t ever work unless I was literally forced to. Margo and Andrew were psychos who frequently found themselves in the office, which is why they were perfect for each other, but Saturday was my sacred day. Most Saturdays I didn’t leave the house until one p.m., and even then I took it easy. I liked to wander from my apartment to the waterfront or even Central Park. Here, I would have to settle for a stroll through the cornfields.Blech.

My eyes were gritty and my head was fuzzy, thanks to the scorching dreams I kept having about a certain opposing counsel and roommate. In each one, his eyes were electric blue, his body was just as insane as it was in real life, and he had an unreasonable love of going down on me in every position imaginable.

I was barely awake, but I shuffled through the house in my sleep T-shirt and fuzzy socks. I hadn’t heard Jason yet, so hopefully I could grab my coffee and retreat to my room without running in to him.

I stood blearily over the coffeemaker and tapped my foot. I was not my best without caffeine, and my friends and family knew to stay far away before my first sip.

“Make enough for two, would you?” I started at Jason’s voice.Clearly, he had no sense of self-preservation. I grunted at him and kept my eyes on the machine, praying for it to heat faster and for him to retreat to wherever he came from.

“Not a morning person?”

I nearly growled at him, but pasted on my blandest expression and turned around. Bad idea. He was in his workout clothes, shirt draped around his neck and chest glistening with sweat. Was nothing sacred? I immediately turned back around. “Why are you even awake?” I grumbled.

“I’ve been up since four a.m. Couldn’t sleep. Pretty standard for me. I read a novel, marked up some documents for a junior, started the crossword, did my workout.”

“You are an insane person.” I grabbed the coffeepot and did a careful sequence of mug under the drip, pour, grab, replace. I turned to see him leaning against the fridge, smirking at me. His pectorals were annoyingly firm. I had a brief flash of how they’d felt under my fingers.Gah. Stop it, brain. Not helpful.

“Says the woman who can’t wait three minutes for the coffee to be done percolating.”

“I need this. And you’re blocking the fridge.”

He stayed put, annoying smirk firmly in place. “You don’t drink it black? I assumed you did.”

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