Page 47 of Van Cort
It’s so similar to what I do, yet so different.
Placing bets, or taking bets, isn’t something I’d usually consider, but there’s spontaneity and a tangible feeling to everything that happened at the weekend – Everett’s words, his actions. Here, in my office, it’s ordered and clean. Formal. And I can’t help but see the two different sides of both the world I work in and the relationship I’m now in.
“Ah, you’re in. Good. There’s a meeting I need your input on at ten,” Antony announces at the edge of the door to my office, pulling at the cuff of his shirt.
“Is there an agenda?” I ask, still looking at my screen. “It would be helpful to know in what capacity I’ll be needed in the meeting.”
“Are you still holding a grudge over the Taylor account. You need to let that go.” I look up.
“I’ll do no such thing. You don’t get to treat me like you did.” I stand firm against his authority.
“Don’t worry, you saw that my department won’t be handling that in the future.”
“Good. You don’t deserve it. And you should never have lied or put me in that position. You’re a—”
“I’m a what, Andie? Because I’m still your boss. Remember that.” He gives me an uncomfortable stare that has me wanting to turn away or smack him around the face. A flash of Everett and the look he gave me in the bedroom, and I steel myself from backing down. I don’t want to be here.
He drops his gaze to my chest before he turns to leave. “See you at ten,” he calls back to me.
“Asshole,” I mumble, reaching for my coffee, the caffeine needs to flow after my adrenaline spikes and then plummets at the mini-standoff. The lack of sleep from the weekend isn’t helping.
The meeting with Antony is tolerable, and I’m pleased to say that there was no throwing me under the bus this time. But having to work on a new client team with him, rather than run it myself, still aggravates me. Especially after what happened last week.
Leaving the office swiftly, I grab some lunch but go straight back to my desk rather than taking my allotted hour. I’ll need to go for a run tonight, considering the workout this weekend was limited to the sweat I worked up with Everett. More than satisfying, but I’d like to get back to a sense of routine as well.
As if he can hear my thoughts, my phone rings with a withheld number on the screen, prompting a grin to cover my face.
“Hello, Everett,” I say as I answer.
“Good guess.”
I smile. “I don’t get many withheld numbers on my phone. Let’s just say I was hopeful.” I stand back up to close the door to my office, not wanting anyone to overhear our conversation.
“I wanted to check in after the weekend.”
“Worried that I didn’t have a good time?” I tease.
“Oh, I’m sure you did. Despite the bathroom incident.”
I close my eyes as fresh mortification runs through me, and the shiver of panic that the door wouldn’t budge returns. “There were plenty of other parts of the trip to bring up. Let’s forget about that one.”
“You were upset.”
“I remember. Can we change the subject?” The pitch of my voice rises with hope.
“Fine. How’s your week starting out?”
“Well, the call from you is the highlight so far. My boss is being his usual self, and it looks like I’ll have the pleasure of his company on a new client project.”
“You sound less than happy about that.”
“I’ve told you he’s an asshole. That hasn’t changed.”
“Yes. I remember.”
“Anyway, what about you? Busy week?”
“The usual. A few logistical issues to resolve. There’s a rogue partner in one of my businesses that I’m going to have to deal with.”
