Riley disconnected and decided she felt good enough to rejoin the interviews. At least until she made it into the hallway.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my ex-wife.”
Riley turned slowly and found Griffin giving her a lecherous once-over.
“What do you want, Griffin?” she asked warily.
Did her boobs get bigger?
Gross. Her ex-husband was openly admiring her breasts. She suddenly wanted to get Armand a birthday cake for pooping in his car.
“Stop staring at my boobs.”
He held up his hands. “I’m a soon-to-be-married man.”
“You were a married man when you did a lot more than stare at Bella’s ta-tas.”
“Riley, I explained it all. I’m a man. Men are visual creatures. We see an attractive female, and there’s no point in fighting centuries of DNA. You just need to accept it.”
“Not all men are like that, you unevolved amoeba.”
He scoffed. “Of course we are. Anyone who says different just hasn’t been caught yet.”
“You’re an ass.”
“Speaking of asses, yours looks great in those pants. Have you been doing squats?”
“My boobs and my ass and everything in between are no longer a concern of yours. Unless you want my boyfriend to punch you in the face on camera again.”
Griffin pouted. “I’m giving you a compliment. Why can’t women accept a heart-felt compliment anymore? In this day and age, I’d like to see someone more oppressed than a—”
“Finish that sentence, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”
“Look. There’s no reason we have to be at war. You’re happy. I’m happy. We don’t have to be enemies.”
“You want to befriends?” Riley nearly choked on the word.
He threw back his head and laughed. “Ah, silly girl. No. Unless you’re talking about friends with benefits.”
She crossed her arms to keep herself from slapping him across his stupid face. “Friends with benefits?” she repeated.
“Just because our marriage didn’t work out doesn’t mean we can’t have an arrangement.” He danced his dainty fingers up her arm to her shoulder.
The thoughts of simpletons always came through loud and clear.
Griffin was imagining her naked.
Riley took his hand in hers and flashed a fake smile. He took it as a good sign and stepped closer, wetting his lips.
“Griffin?” Riley said sweetly.
“Yes?”
“If you ever touch me again, I’ll rip your fingers off and stuff them so far up your nose, you’ll need a surgeon to remove them.”
He recoiled. “There’s no need for threats. Not when I was making a generous offer.”
“My ex-husband who cheated on me with a mutual coworker, then got me fired and sued me for justifiably breaking his nose, offered to have an affair with me,” Riley said loudly enough that several heads in the cubicle farm turned in their direction. “That’s not a generous offer.”
