A clean slate? She might as well have slapped me. A clean slate means she doesn’t remember a goddamn thing.
A flush of color tinges her cheeks as she blurts, “I’m sorry for speaking out of turn that day in the meeting a few months back.”
A surge of hope flares up inside me. “You remember?”
“Yes?” she squeaks out.
I can hardly breathe. “Are you being straight with me right now? You actually recall what happened?”
“No?” Her voice rises even higher. Her eyebrows knit together, eyes darting around as if looking for an escape. “What answer would make you less mad?”
I let out a groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. “The truth.”
“Matty filled me in.”
Fuck’s sake.
But I’m not letting her off the hook. “What about our last encounter? What do you remember about that?”
Her eyes widen, searching for an acceptable response.
“Relax. I’m not setting a trap. Give it to me straight.”
“It was the day you came to talk about Project Tangra. You weren’t exactly my biggest fan that day.”
My lips curve into a smirk as I lean closer to her. “When I caught you with the caricature.”
She groans, blushing furiously. “God, this is so weird. I don’t know if I said this already, but I’m really sorry about that. Matty mentioned that there were no consequences, so thank you for being lenient.”
I chuckle lightly, but I’m too frustrated for it to have any real humor. “I assure you a silly doodle wouldn’t be enough to scare me away, Lucy.”
“You seemed pretty irate at the time.”
“I was.” I smirk. “Your department frustrated me.”
“And it doesn’t anymore?”
“Oh, it still does.”
She grimaces and nods. “Well, I apologize for anything out of line I’ve done this past year.”
“Forget anything you’ve heard. Your performance on the project has been nothing short of outstanding.”
She exhales a noticeable sigh of relief. “That’s so good to know.”
“Since then, we’ve become more acquainted. You’re welcome to call me JP, as you used to.”
A line appears between her eyebrows, one I’ve traced innumerable times. “Oh… kay. Um, JP.”
Something glimmers in her eyes as my name slips from her lips. A spark that could ignite memories if properly stoked.
Come on, Lucy.
I watch the gears turning in her mind. She crosses and uncrosses her legs, her movements restless and filled with tension.
A memory. There’s one lurking around there.
I know it’s there.
