“You can just plan to keep them coming.” My best friend grins, giving me a look that normally would make me laugh, if this whole thing didn’t have me spiraling.
Riley then stares at me, deadly serious. “So, tell me more about the office. What’s it like? We can get to the boss thing once I’m thoroughly filled in.”
I nod, picking up my glass and taking a sip. “Glass everything. Very minimalist. You can see everyone and everything at all times, which is just, like, perfect for my anxiety.” I drum my fingers. “And Adrian—my main boss—is basically a dictator. He has no emotions. He gives you this look like he’s just expecting you to fail.”
She makes a face. “Did you mess up anything today? Did he say anything?”
“No, but he’s watching and waiting.” I take another gulp of my gin and tonic. “But that’s not the real problem. I think I can deal with him. The real problem is that every time I see Beck, I feel like I’m about to pass out.”
Riley leans across the table. “How much did you actually even talk to him?”
I nod. “He introduced himself like we’d never met—I told you that. He shook my hand. He said, ‘Looking forward to working with you.’” I cringe at the words. “I left without saying goodbye or leaving my phone number that night. It’s possible that he thinks I’m a total bitch.”
Riley processes this as she sips her drink. “Okay, so worst case, he’s mortified and never brings it up. Best case, you get a bonus for keeping your mouth shut? I mean, again, if he’s the kind of guy who hooks up a lot...”
I blink. “It might not have meant anything to him, is what you’re getting at.”
She frowns. “Maybe…” Her voice trails off, and she reaches for my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Is that something you’re okay with? Actually,” she pauses, “Areyouokay?”
The question lands like a rock in my gut, and the truth spills out. “No. I’m not okay. I need this job so bad, but every time I see him, I remember everything. The hotel, the way he looked at me, the fact that I was so desperate to not feel like shit that I just…” I trail off, unable to finish.
Riley is quiet for a second, then smiles at me. “It was one night. That’s what you have to tell yourself. So what? Men do this crap all the time and never feel guilty. You’re allowed to have needs.”
“My need right now is for money,” I say, poking the condensation on my glass. “But I can’t think straight when I’m around him.”
“Just fuck the other two.” She laughs, then tries to cover it. “Sorry, that wasn’t funny.”
I glare at her, but not really. “What do I do?”
She sits back, considering. “It sounds to me like you have two choices. One—quit now, find another job, never see Beck again. Or two—pretend it never happened and hope he does the same.”
I make a face. “There is no option three?”
She taps her chin. “Option three is blackmail, but you don’t have the spine for it.”
I manage a laugh. “He could ruin me, Riley. All it would take is one bad review, and I’d be back to eating Raman noodles forever.”
She points her glass at me. “Then you don’t give him the satisfaction. You go in there, you do your job, and if he tries to pull anything, you come straight to me.”
I roll my eyes. “So you can what? Murder him?”
She grins. “If I have to. But seriously, you need this job. You’re not the first person to hook up with their boss.”
The waitress drops off another round. I vow to drink this slower, the alcohol finally smoothing out the edges.
I sigh. “This could all just go so wrong.”
Riley squeezes my hand across the table again. “You’re going to be fine.”
“The prior assistant lasted three months. I just need to make it that long.”
She raises her glass. “To three months.”
I raise mine, faking confidence. “To three months.”
Chapter 7
Caleb
