I stare at my phone for a second, the silence in my apartment settling around me. I kick off my shoes and drop my bag on the chair.
Then the reality of the conversation catches up with me.
A date. Within twenty-four hours. For him.
“Ugh,” I groan, dragging a hand through my hair. “That man is impossible.”
I flop onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. “You kissed me in an elevator and now you want me to plan your romantic dinner like some kind of?—”
There’s a faint crackle from the phone.
Then his voice.
“…Zatanna.”
I freeze. My stomach drops.
“I’m still here,” he says.
I sit bolt upright.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, staring at the phone like it just bit me. “I thought I cut the call. I swear it dropped.”
There’s a small pause.
Then I hear him say, faint but unmistakable, “I thought so too, but…”
Panic detonates in my chest. “Oh my god.” I jab the screen and end the call before he can finish the sentence.
Silence floods the room.
For a full five seconds I just sit there, breathing. Then I slowly fall backward onto the mattress and stare at the ceiling again.
I totally just insulted my boss.
My terrifying, powerful, very dangerous boss.
And then I hung up on him.
“Great,” I mutter into the empty apartment. “Perfect. Excellent career move, Zee.”
The man who signs my paycheck.
The man who apparently wants me to arrange dates for him.
The man I kissed in an elevator like I’d completely lost my mind.
And now I’ve basically told him he’s insane… before cutting him off mid-sentence.
I groan into the pillow. My heart is still racing, part panic, part something warmer I don’t want to examine too closely. Surely,he’s going to call back. Surely, he’s going to say something likeMs. DeLaurentis, you’re fired, or maybe just breathe in that slow, controlled way that somehow makes me feel like I’ve already disappointed him.
But the phone stays quiet.
No call. No text. Nothing.
“Okay,” I mutter to the empty apartment. “That’s almost worse.”
I sit up on the bed and rub my face again. Sleep is clearly not happening tonight. My brain is running too fast, replaying every humiliating second of the evening.
