Page 39 of Tempt Thy Neighbor

“What makes you think you’re so qualified?”

“For starters, I have several years’ experience at actually running teams in a marketing department.” Not that I enjoy it, but she doesn’t need to know that little tidbit.

“And several years’ experience being the family screwup. I doubt Jessa is looking for that ‘skill’ in her search.”

I clench my teeth, reminded of my failures all over again.

I can’t help but wonder if that’s who everyone will always see me as—the failed Barnes.

“What even happened with that? Why did you go ballistic at your father’s charity event?”

Darlene chooses that moment to drop our plates off in front of us, and I’m thankful for the interruption.

We tuck into our lunches, letting the scrapes of our silverware fill the silence.

Holland is the first to push her plate aside, not surprising since all she got was a small ham and cheese croissant.

“Well?” she prompts, sitting back in the booth, chewing on the straw sticking out of her cup, and staring at me expectantly.

With a sigh, I shove the last of my salad into my mouth and wipe my face with my napkin before balling it up and tossing it onto my empty plate.

“Let’s just say Thomas was not upholding his marital vows by paying a little too much attention to a client’s daughter. When the client found out and threatened to walk, Thomas twisted everything around and told my father I was the one to blame. I spent the evening pissed off, and after having one too many cocktails, things got out of hand. Next thing I knew I was being subdued by the police.”

I tell her how when I got home the next morning, my bags were waiting for me.

With every word, I see the pity slipping into her eyes. She feels bad for me, and for some reason, that feels worse than anyone else’s pity.

“Geez,” she says. “That story is nearly worse than mine.”

“Let’s not forget my brother is also married to my ex.”

“I’d hardly say she was your girlfriend.”

“Hey, she attended three straight events with me. We were practically married in my book.”

She laughs, but it doesn’t hide the hurt that flashes in her eyes.

I’m sure she’s thinking about how many times she was my date…and how that number is far greater than three.

She clears her throat and brushes her hair behind her shoulder. “Well, we had better be getting back to the office. I don’t think being late is going to earn us brownie points with Jessa. I’m going to run to the restroom first.”

“Sure.”

I stand when she does, then settle back into the booth as she starts for the bathroom. She doubles back to me, eyeing me skeptically when I don’t make a move to leave.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting.”

“Why? You’re running the risk of being late.”

“Are you planning on taking forever?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll wait.” Her brows crush together, and I sigh. “My mother might be a cold-hearted witch, but she raised me with manners. I’m not letting you walk back by yourself.”

“I’m a grown woman. I am fully capable of taking care of myself,” she insists.

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