Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 159208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 796(@200wpm)___ 637(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 796(@200wpm)___ 637(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Not at all.
I fucking despise how it’s a sane offer—probably a better one than I deserve—and I wonder why.
Is it because she’ll give me three months? Even when she clearly hates my guts more than ever?
“Am I such a tyrant you can’t stand sharing a car for twenty minutes?” I ask.
She hesitates.
Not good.
“Can I be honest?” she asks softly, looking up with her long lashes fluttering.
What the hell? She’s been holding back?
“Are you ever not honest, Miss Poe?”
“When I saw you in the interview, I almost turned around and walked right out. Staying here isn’t an easy decision. But I don’t want to give you the satisfaction—I couldn’t.”
Her sheer disgust rips through me like an arrow.
“I took the job for the pay—and I’ll give it ninety days for the same reason— but that doesn’t mean I have any desire to be friends,” she says, deepening the wound. “Taking a car together every morning punishes me for something I didn’t do. So I’ll pick up your coffee, but let’s limit our interactions to the office, okay?”
“I’m trying to make amends,” I say slowly. “We’ll be working very closely together and—”
“Yeah. Right there. It’s the ‘closely’ part that’s the problem. We both love our jobs, right? At least, I want to love mine...”
I nod. What’s she getting at now?
“Good. Then that should be enough. In fact, that is enough.”
“What do you mean?” I rake a hand through my hair, fully regretting this stupid peace summit.
“We can coexist as professionals and leave it at that. Frankly, I’ve never been great friends with anyone I ever worked with anyway and always kept my distance.” For a second, she glances away, as if she’s revealed too much. Then she continues. “So. How about I write some awesome copy and send it to you for approval or revision? I can check in at team meetings and take notes, or you can mark the document, and I’ll correct it. If we just talk business and do our jobs, there’s no reason to even worry about being frenemies or whatever...”
“Frenemies?” I echo.
She gives me this fake plastered-on smile I want to yank right off her face.
What the hell would it take to make her smile for real? I must be sick in the head for wondering when I did a pretty damn good job of making sure I’ll never see it.
Not that it matters.
“Dakota, this organization is a team. If I can’t get along with my own right hand—”
“Um, Lucy’s your right hand, isn’t she? And you two have a great vibe. I’m just a copywriter.”
“You’re a highly specialized copywriter assigned to a flagship product line who reports directly to me. You are an appendage like my own hand. Care to guess how many other writers fit that criteria?”
“Not really. Since you keep mentioning your right hand, though, I’d see somebody if it’s giving you grief. That must be pretty awkward when you use it to—never mind.”
“Go to hell, Nevermore,” I snarl. “I wanted to set things straight, not continue sniping at each other like middle schoolers.”
She barely holds back a snicker.
“And yet aren’t you the one who started the silly nicknames?”
My brow furrows. She makes it painfully hard to ignore her fuckery.
“Miss Poe, you don’t understand. If the rest of the team sees us at each other’s throats, office morale crashes and—”
“They won’t,” she clips, slowly walking to the other side of the room. “I promise you my work will get done so efficiently no one will ever question it. I won’t even let anyone know about our little agreement, or the fact that I think you’re certifiable—”
“Do you always tell your boss who’s just given you a huge bonus that he’s a nutjob on your first day?” I raise my brows in challenge.
“No. But then again, I’ve never had a boss who ruined my breakfast before I started working for him, either.”
I wish I could just be honest.
If she knew about Wyatt, she’d know I’m not a lunatic chasing his next sugar high and maybe show some remorse for her bullshit.
“We don’t know each other very well, but I trust you’ll find I never do anything without a damn good reason.”
She crosses her arms. “You mean you had a good reason to harass me and buy out every cinnamon roll in the shop the next time you saw me? Were you feeding half the city?”
No. Just the office, plus one brutally obstinate man.
My brain grinds like it’s rusted shut. Yeah, buying all the rolls for revenge might have been petty.
I could apologize.
Obviously, I could, but then where would that leave me with this green-eyed pixie who glares up at me like she’s smelling blood in the water?
I stare back as something resembling a vacant smile turns up my lips.
“I offered you a roll at the interview, and I had a good reason for needing them that day.”