Page 16 of Wrong Car, Wright Guy
I get about halfway down the hall before the light tap of something hitting me in the center of my back stops me. “There are your lozenges, you oaf!”
Crouching down, I grab the pack and stick it in my jacket pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Casey. Remember that I get up at five and check my email shortly after.”
Her huff of disapproval is my goodbye, and it causes me to smile. She may be full of attitude and ready to throw down at any given moment, but Ruby Casey is the singular most genuine person in this building. I like it. I like her. Even if she hates me right now.
Eight
Ruby
“Ibought wine.” Tahlia is leaning against my door when I get home after the work week from hell. I have a folder of correspondence under my arm and a weekend full of research and fielding phone calls ahead of me.
Despite that one shining moment on-air, there is nothing about being Tanner Wright’s personal assistant that I enjoy. The man is blunt and obnoxious. He rarely makes eye contact and dismisses practically every idea I have, even though he insists I give him a thorough breakdown of my thoughts on every topic floated for the show. Even the fact that he’s gorgeous and has a voice that sounds like an orgasm waiting to happen doesn’t save him. I hate him. I hate my job. And if he suddenly fired me, I might actually feel relieved. Sure, I’d be forced to work at Starbucks with Andy due to that non-compete, but I could move in with Theo and Darren and sublet my apartment for a while. That could work, right?
Anything to end my suffering.
“You look like my fairy godmother,” I say, wanting to hug my bestie and never let go.
Tahlia smiles. “I figured you’d need this tonight. I got the best they had with the money in my purse.” Which means we’re drinking the same wine as the homeless man who sleeps by the dumpster in the alley.
“It’ll pair perfectly with the cold pizza in my fridge,” I say.
She lifts her brow and grins. “Indubitably.”
“I hate my job so much,” I complain, slouching as I hold out my free arm for a hug.
“I know, honey.” With a sympathetic look, she opens her arms to welcome me but I take the wine bottle and hugitinstead.
“You’re going to make it all better, aren’t you?” I say to the bottle.
Tahlia laughs as she follows me into my apartment. “Tell me everything. I’ve missed seeing you this week.” With my altered work hours, I’ve struggled to get home before midnight all week. Today is the exception because Tanner left early for another date with his ‘redhead’ so I decided to finish work at home over the weekend instead of staying back.
“I can’t begin to describe the amount of mail I went through today.” I throw the folder on my table. “Well, am still going through. Who even writes actual letters anymore?”
“Little old ladies?” she suggests with a shrug.
“Does this look like a little old lady?” I pull out a photo of a busty blonde licking the barrel of a rifle in an attempt to appear sexy.
Tahlia recoils. “Oh god. Why?”
“Her letter gushes about how sexy his voice is and offers an open invitation to visit her and be the rifle in the photo. I think that means she wants to lick him.”
“Hedoeshave a sexy voice. And I might have been drunk last weekend, but I remember he was hot as fuck.”
“Well, he likes redheads, it seems. So, you’re in with a shot. Much to Rayleigh—our newsreader’s—dismay. She’s a brunette and desperately wanted him single.”
“Probably a blessing. I’d have to pass anyway,” she says, opening the bottle of wine. “I quit assholes after the last one.”
“Or six.” I offer her a wry smile as I take two glasses from my shelf and place them on the counter.
“Ugh. Don’t remind me. The next guy I date will be the opposite of an asshole. He’ll be… What’s the opposite of an asshole?”
I shrug. “A mouth?”
She laughs as she pours the wine. “Not a literal opposite, a figurative one.”
“Nice. Likable. Kind. Caring,” I rattle off, and she sighs, smiling as she hands me a glass.
“Yes. All of those.” We clink glasses and drink.
