“I’m waiting, Bunny.”
“Stop now!” She breaks down, and I get lost in her green eyes. “No one’s going to celebrate your jokes if you don’t have an audience.”
I tilt my head and place my hands on the lockers behind us. It’s just the two of us now. “Do you think I’m doing this to entertain others?”
“Yes.”
“You’re wrong. I do it because I like to see you cry.”
Now
I close the door of my Mercedes and read Stella's text with Lauren's address again.
Yes, this is the place.
It looks like something out of a nineties movie set where New York was portrayed as the scariest city on the planet with wet floors, steam rising from the sewers, and freezing temperatures. Quite the contrast to the New York I know.
Two days ago, Lauren came into my office with her usual energy, and in less than fifteen minutes, I managed to get the upper hand. I didn't feel bad about it; this is the game we've played all our lives—The fox and the bunny. We both know our roles and play them well … except perhaps that night.
I'm about to ring the doorbell when a man appears and lets me in without a second thought. What kind of uncivilized place is this?
I knock twice, and I see her shadow moving across the room from underneath the door. Given the size of the building and how many floors there are, it's probably a studio apartment.
Hell, I haven't been inside a studio since college.
The door opens, and Lauren appears in front of me in her robe. My eyes immediately drift to her breasts, but she covers herself with a speed I've never seen before.
“No!” she says, closing the door, but I stop her by placing my foot in the doorway.
“Bunny, come on, don’t be like that.”
She squeezes my foot, but not with full strength. Deep down, she’s not able to hurt me, even if I deserve it.
“I said no, Silas. Go away!” she shouts from the other side.
I push a little harder, and with minimal effort, the door opens and lets me through. It is indeed a studio—very depressing but terrifyingly organized, an order only someone with OCD could achieve.
“In a few weeks, Stella is leaving, and I need someone. Bunny, come on, don't make me beg.”
She keeps her arms crossed, her green eyes, now without glasses,piercing me like a spear of fire. She’s wearing no makeup, and I can see her brownish freckles on her nose and cheeks. Her heart-shaped face, her blonde hair in a messy bun, and her exposed legs add to the image.
“It’s not my problem.”
“Yes, it is. We interviewed twenty candidates, and you're the only one who fits the job. That makesyouresponsible.”
“Another woman was competing with me. Call her.” She walks away from me and stops in front of a window.
I don’t know what the hell she’s looking at, but I want her attention back on me. “Already did; can’t hire her.”
She turns around, unable to resist her curiosity. I’ve always liked that about her. “Why not?”
“Because she chews gum with her mouth open. I can’t work with someone who chews gum like it’s an Olympic competition.” Yes, it’s a horrible excuse, but it was the first thing that came to mind.
“Silas, don’t waste any more time. I’m not going to work for you.” She points to the door for me to leave.
“Why not? We work very well together.” Well, not exactly. We always managed to avoid colliding when we coexisted at school.
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. Please, go away.”
