Page 43 of Phishing for Love
Sofia:WHAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!!!!
Tess:I’m switching my phone off.
CHAPTER TEN
The moment I step into the office on Thursday morning, Mevia calls me over to the reception desk. She’s wearing lime green eyeshadow and a purple glittery top. “Aaron wants an almond croissant from Beth’s Bakery.”
“What?” I sputter. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I haven’t even had a chance to settle in, check my email, grab a coffee. Now I have to go right back out again for acroissant?
Mevia must see the argument in my eyes because her eyebrows arch. “You have no choice. You lost the bet.”
I let out a deep sigh. “Does everyone know about it?”
“Pretty much.”
How irritating. This is why I’d love an enclosed office, not a cubicle where all ears are attuned to any diverting conversation.
Mevia unwraps a stick of gum and pops it into her mouth. “Aaron says you can leave the croissant on my desk.”
“Aaron can go shove—” I stop abruptly and peer closely at Mevia, who’s busy admiring her nails. “Hmm, you know who also likes almond croissants?”
A few seconds go by before Mevia lifts her mischievous brown eyes to meet mine. “It was worth a shot.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I know, right? I came so close to getting away with it.” She looks over my shoulder and a wide smile comes to her bright pink lips. “Morning, Hot Guy!”
I turn to see my current nightmare exiting the elevators. My stomach doesn’t know what to do with itself, getting all quiveryat the sight of Aaron. I try not to notice how good his shoulders look in his suit.
He has no choice but to pass Mevia’s desk if he wants to get to his office. I glimpse his easy stride falter a little at the realization.
“For the record, my name is not ‘Hot Guy,’” he informs Mevia when he reaches us.
She gives an airy wave. Embarrassment is not a color she wears. “It’s my nickname for you.”
“I prefer not to have a nickname,” Aaron says, looking a little exasperated.
“Want to know what Tess’s nickname is?” Mevia asks.
I shoot her a quelling glare. “He’s not interested.”
Now he looks intrigued. “Actually, I am.”
“Don’t you have work you need to get to?”
“It can wait.”
Mevia leans forward. “I call Tess ‘The Mouth.’”
An appreciative chuckle rumbles out of his chest. “That fits.”
“No, it doesn’t!” I protest indignantly.
His eyes meet mine. “You’re saying your mouth doesn’t get you into trouble?”
When I remain mutinously silent, Mevia answers for me. “All the time.”
“Thought so.” Aaron turns to Mevia. “And Mevia?”
