Corrine Bluntisthe woman from the elevator.
Chapter 2: Corrine
This. Little. Prick.
It takes far too long for my eyes to travel up his body. My skin prickles at the memory of the way he seemed to loom behind me in the elevator.
So, not little...quite tall.
But still a prick.
I don’t know what it says about me, but my first feeling is one of satisfaction, seeing him flustered like this. Watching as he puts the pieces of who I am together. But as the color drains from his face, the disappointment sets like a weight, the embarrassment a sharp pang as it follows close behind. I can’t help but mourn the loss of what I’d hoped would be a new partnership.
I walk over to my desk, my shoulders back, my chin high. I’m Teflon; none of his bullshit sticks to me. Leaning against the glass, I fold my arms in front of me. I don’t say a word while Wesley Chambers fumbles for one.
He fidgets under my stare, running a hand through his wavy brown hair, readjusting his glasses, flattening his tie. His discomfort travels through him like a tidal wave, from his head to his feet and back again.
Underneath his pants, which are just half an inch too short, bright red-and-blue socks with cartoon baseballs peek out.
My lip curls. They piss me off even more. Because in another world, at another time, I would have found them cute, quirky. The tiny, dorky detail would have endeared him to me immediately. But he’s ruined any chance of that.
I wait for that feeling of satisfaction to come back. I want to close my eyes, twist my face up, will it back to me like I used to will my birthday wishes to come true. But it’s dead now. Just the hurt is left. And a strange, sucking sense of betrayal.
We’d emailed a few times before his internship started. He’d been so funny, friendly, so effusive. I never got an inkling that he was anything but excited to work with me. But apparently I’m not good enough.
Apparently, I’m not theillustriousRichard Skyler.
And Richard. He hasn’t shut up about Wesley Chambers. My problems with Richard aside, he’s always been a good judge of character. I thought I was a good judge of character, too, but nothing prepared me for a man who laughs at a joke like that. The fact that he laughed confirms why he was so displeased to be working with me. A sharp pain shoots through my eye into my temple. I’m clenching my jaw so much I’m going to give myself a headache if I’m not careful. I’m just so tired, the bone-deep kind of exhaustion.
I don’t want to have to prove myself to people anymore.
Mr. Chambers stumbles forward, holding out his hand to shake mine. It seems he’s going to try to just ignore the vulgarly named elephant defecating all over my very white office.
“Hello, Ms. Blunt. I’m Wes. Wesley. You can call me Wes, though.”
I follow the angle of his arm to his shoulder, up to his face. His height sort of ruins any authority I’m attempting to establish here. His dark hair falls in waves over his forehead and glasses; freckles sprinkle the bridge of his nose. He’s cute with a Nerd Next Door thing going for him. He seems sweet. If he didn’t work for me, I might have called him handsome.
He doesn’t have the look I’d expect from a man who laughs at jokes made at the expense of women.
But he seems so nervous right now and kind of twitchy, that palm is probably sweaty. Ignoring his outstretched hand, I walk around my desk to sit in my chair. The computer screen comes to life with too many emails in my inbox. Mr. Chambers rubs his palm against his pant leg.
So I was probably right about the sweaty palms.
“I’m, um, very excited to be working with you?”
He says it like a question, which makes it not quite a lie, but still, it rankles that he won’t just acknowledge it.
I know what you said. I know that you laughed, I want to hiss.
With my back straight, I swallow those bitter words, the rage sticking in my throat. He stares at a spot on my desk like an astronaut might stare at a black hole.
Look who’s laughing now.
“I’m sure you heard what Mark said in the elevator.” His words are barely audible around the strain in his voice.
I blink, leaning back in my chair. I took Mr. Chambers for more of a coward.
“I wanted you to know that I...”
