We sit in silence for a moment. The coffee shop noise washes over us from the conversations to the espresso machine's hiss. I envy the normal people living everyday lives, where they haven't accidentally slept with their boss, who is also their brother’s best friend.
“At least the sex was good,” Gretchen offers.
Despite everything, I laugh. “That makes it worse.”
“How?”
“Because now I know. I know what he feels like, how he tastes. How he—” I stop, heat flooding my face. “I know things I can’t unknow. And I have to see him daily and pretend I don’t.”
“That’s torture.”
“That’s my life now.”
Gretchen reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. “You’ll get through this. You’re strong. You’re professional. You can absolutely handle working with a hot guy you slept with once.”
“He called my work adequate.”
“What?”
“First day. He reviewed my portfolio, called it adequate, and said my creative choices were unnecessary.”
Gretchen’s eyes narrow. “What a dick.”
“I argued with him and nearly got fired on day one.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah. But he actually used my original design for the client presentation.” I can’t help the small smile. “Sent me an email that said ‘well done.’”
“So he’s not a complete dick.”
“Just a partial dick.”
“A complicated dick.”
“The most complicated dick I’ve ever encountered.”
We both dissolve into slightly hysterical laughter. When we finally calm down, Gretchen signals for more coffee.
“Okay. Real talk. Can you actually do this? Can you work with him and keep things professional?”
I think about it. Really think about it.
Daniel is just as committed to pretending as I am. Maybe more so.
“I think so. We’re both adults. We both have a lot to lose if this gets out. Neither of us wants drama.”
“And the attraction?”
I shrug. “I’ll deal with it. I'll channel it into work and prove I’m more than adequate.”
“That’s my girl.” Gretchen grins. “Turn sexual tension into career advancement.”
“Exactly.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Trevor is probably calling to debrief about the reunion. Or it’ll be Mom asking why I left early.
I pull it out to silence it, but the name on the screen stops my heart.
