“Hot, hot!” I fanned my mouth. “No, he doesn’t like me! He barely tolerated me. But whatever. That HR skank can have him.”
“Is Cressida still sniffing around him? She’s so thirsty.”
“Probably wants her very own billionaire husband,” I said dryly, cutting off a piece of the multilayered confection of sponge cake, mousse, and ganache. “She’s tired of harassing people for her money and wants a good-looking husband to harass instead.”
“Beck is good-looking!” Holly said with a snicker. “Maybe now that you don’t work for him, you could date him.”
“No way,” I said flatly. “You know I hate dating.”
Holly rolled her eyes. “You hate everything.”
“Not cake!” I said defensively.
“You hate the city, you hate the country, you hate working—”
“Everyone hates working.”
“You hate men.”
“I don’t hate men. I love all the men in my books,” I said primly.
“Romance novel men don’t count,” Holly retorted.
“Fine. If Chris Evans in his Captain America costume just appeared right in front of me, I’d totally do him.”
Holly raised an eyebrow. “He’s an inaccessible man. That doesn’t count.”
“You can’t blame me,” I argued, waving my fork around. “All the men in my life are backstabbing, entitled circus monkeys. My stepfather betrayed me. Beck fired me just because he could, and because he would rather protect his precious disgusting pig of a client than his employee. And don’t get me started on Kaden.”
Holly looked concerned. “He hasn’t contacted you, has he? You should file a restraining order.”
I shook my head. “Hopefully he’s lost interest. Of course, now that I am unemployed, I should probably cut my losses and move to Michigan. At least then Kaden really couldn’t find me.”
Holly patted my arm and went to grab me another cup of tea. She placed it and a pretzel stuffed with cream cheese and chives in front of me.
“You’re going to find a new job, a better job,” she assured me. “A lot of temp positions in the city are trial runs for full-time employment.”
The lobby door opened, and a willowy young woman with bottle red hair practically danced in.
Glad someone’s happy to be here.
I angrily ate the rest of my opera cake and moved on to my pretzel.
“Hiii!” the redhead drawled to Holly. “I’d like a double-shot caramel macchiato. Starting a new job—just got the call from the temp agency. I’m going to be a billionaire’s assistant!” She squealed. “His name is Beck Svensson!”
I hunkered down with my pretzel.Sucks to be you, sister.
“I hope it all works out for you,” Holly chirped as she ran the young woman’s card.
“Oh, I fully intend to have a ring on this finger in six months.” She held up her hand.
I couldn’t help myself and barked out a laugh.
She turned to glare at me. “You don’t know me!” my replacement screeched. “I’ve been working up to this moment ever since I moved to New York. God, get a life.” She grabbed her coffee and walked to the elevator, heels clacking.
Holly came over with more cake. “Want to take bets on how long she lasts?”
“I won’t be here,” I said dejectedly, “so you could just lie.”
