“You got it, boss.” He leaned back in his office chair to see behind me. “Look who it is—boss numbertwo.”
I glanced back. As Sebastian approached with his laptop bag slung over one shoulder, I crossed my arms to show my disapproval. In what I’d thought was a rare stroke of generosity, last week, he’d offered to order me a temporary desk from IKEA. That morning, I’d been pleased to find it built and ready for me—with a pinkGirl Powermousepad on top and drawers stocked with purple stationery,Hello Kittystickers, and multicolored gel pens. In the top drawer, a Post-it stuck to a box of Crayola glitter markers read “Harder to lose in a box” in block letters. Sebastian’s neat, contained handwriting made mine look like scrawl. It definitely belonged in the sleek black leather notebook where he was always making notes. Even Broadway tickets to theThe Lion Kingsounded severe in there, with a sharpw, and the dots of hisi’sperfectly aligned with theirstems.
Yes, I’d stolen a peek at his playbook. As long as Sebastian treated me like an enemy instead of an ally, I’d have to resort to snooping forintel.
“Good morning,” I said, checking the clock to emphasize that it was already pastten.
“Morning.” He nodded at Justin. “Boss numbertwo? Really,dude?”
Justin shrugged. “She lets me watch Netflix atwork.”
Sebastian turned to me. “May I see you in myoffice?”
“Yes,” I said. “You may see me inouroffice.”
We walked through the cubicles toward the corner. As with every morning, Sebastian’s chiseled features hit me like a Louis Vuitton duffel to the face, but I did my best not to stumble in his presence. Problem was, there was more to him than soulful, green eyes and a strong jaw. He had conviction. He stuck to his guns. He didn’t cave under pressure. I’d be attracted to that if it didn’t frustrate me somuch.
“Imagine my surprise when I tried to get to my desk this morning,” he said as we approached the closed door to ouroffice.
“Imaginemysurprise seeingmynew desk and itscontents.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “I was here until after midnight putting it together.” He swung the office door open. Bruno, lying at the foot of Sebastian’s desk, lifted his head. “At least my surprise couldn’tkillyou.”
I entered the office and kneeled beside my sleek, blue-gray, utterly lovable Great Dane. “Bruno’s a gentlegiant.”
Sebastian closed the door behind himself and walked to his desk to put down his bag. With asquishthat made me look up, he slow blinked and lifted his foot to look at thesole.
“Oh, no,” I said. “Did Bruno have anaccident?”
“An accident?” Sebastian grunted. “On the contrary, I can’t help but think this isintentional.”
“Or karma, morelikely.”
“For . . . ?” he asked, removing his shoe to show me it was vomit, notpoop.
If not for everything up until today, then perhaps karma was evening the score for the girly desk, and theotherPost-it he’d left on the stationery. It read,Enough to last you ’til theend.
He was counting down the days until mydeparture.
“Not sure,” I answered him. “There must be lots for her to choosefrom.”
“Well, karma can thank her lucky stars these seven-hundred-dollar oxfords were a gift fromFerragamo.”
I tried to get Bruno back onto the dog bed I’d dragged all the way from Brooklyn. It was never easy to see him get sick, especially because this meant I’d have to go through the process of giving him his pills again—a chore even on easy days. “Sorry about the smell,” I said, lowering my proverbial weapons since thiswasa shared office. “I’ll clean up the vomit in aminute.”
“Did he eat something bad?” Sebastianasked.
I wasn’t in the mood to get into details; he probably didn’t care, anyway. Dogs were just animals to him, and I was no more than a temporary nuisance. I stood and took my purse from the couch. “Musthave.”
“You don’t think he might be more comfortable . . . anywhere buthere?”
Of course he would. Coming to the office was clearly too much excitement for him. “My sitter had an emergency, and I needed to be heretoday.”
“Ah, right. Thesitter.”
I fished out the orange, blue, and white labeled canisters with Bruno’s pills and set them on the desk. Bruno made his way over to his dog bed, where he dropped down with a sigh. Next, I pulled out a small jar of Trader Joe’s peanut butter and a plasticknife.
“You carry that in your purse?” Sebastianasked.
