Page 83 of My Merry Mistake

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“People think you’re heartless?”

She slowly turns to me. “I know how I am. People walk on the other side of the hallway when I’m coming.”

“You’d be great as one of those people in Costco with a clipboard,” I joke. “You’re like a hot version of an extended warranty phone call.”

“I’m not—!” She stops mid-sentence.

“—employed by Costco?” I jump in. “Yeah, I know, but if you were, you’d begreat.”

She frowns at me, and I shrug at her. “Just sayin’.”

She heaves a big sigh, but I can see the corners of her mouth turn up a bit.

“Plus,” I add, “I know the real you, remember?”

“Will you stop bringing that up?” She shoots me a look, but I see the smile in her eyes.

“I can’t. It was one of the best nights of my life.” I smirk.

“Well, it was one of the worst nights of mine.” Her expression shifts. “A close second to what happened a few days ago.”

I can tell she’s upset. Still bothered by what happened in her office. Maybe the best thing I can do is keep things light.

“Yeah, but now you get a vacation, free breakfast with someone who’s not even a friend . . . ” I say, lightly. “Win-win.”

She smiles weakly but looks conflicted, and I let the subject drop. We drive in silence for a few minutes, just the sounds of the road.

I’m not a huge fan of silence.

“So, in my current position as non-friend, is there any upward mobility? Any goals I can hit to move up the ranks?” I ask. “If I’m going to stay with this company, I need to know there’s a chance for promotion.”

She chuckles to herself, a good sign, and says, “I’ll consider advancement if—if—you show some kind of growth in maturity.”

“Uh-oh,” I say. “Thaaat’s gonna be a problem.”

She takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I figured. Might have to just stay acquaintances, then.”

“Might have to.”

“I’m glad we’re clear. Expectations are important.”

“Right,” I say. “No chance of anything romantic. Totally off the table.”

She side-eyes me. “Only executives get that perk,” she quips.

At least she’s playing along. That’s a step in the right direction, I guess.

“And for the record, I never thought that was ever?—”

“Good,” she says. “I mean, youarecompletely wrong for me.”

I frown. “Okay, wait. How do you even know?”

She comes to a stop at a red light and turns to me. “Oh, come on, Finn. First of all, I already told you, you’re a professional hockey player. Which is a big red flag.”

“Feels judgy, but okay.”

“Second of all, you’re like a big kid!” She shudders. “You don’t take anything seriously. You joke about everything, and the real world isn’t like that?—”