Andthat,I realize with a punch to the gut, is the crux of why his presence hurts me so much.
Not because I lost out on the job to the board chairman’s son,but because even if he weren’t the board chairman’s son, Alex would have edged me out anyway.
He clearly has no idea I applied. As much as I want to dislike him, I can admit he wouldn’t have said that to me just now if he’d known.
Alex doesn’t deserve to be the source of my insecurity, but still, he landed squarely into it, every edge of him filling the gaps of what I’m not.
Maybe I should say sorry, too. For saying he’s never had to try at anything in life, which was unfair. Because Alex is right. I don’t know anything about him. Not really. But I can’t talk, or look him in the eye again, without risking him discovering that there’s something deeper going on here. Like he said, heart’s on my sleeve.
We’re quiet for a few moments, letting the wave of voices inside and the noise of car horns below fill up the space between us.
“Casey,” he says eventually. “Just… I just wish—”
But he’s interrupted when someone in a navy-blue suit smelling suspiciously of spray tan comes up and claps Alex on the shoulder. “My God. I thought that was you!”
His eyes jerk away from mine, the cord snapping, ricocheting. “Yeah, I’m… Hey, Bishop, how’ve you been?” His voice resets. Now it’s the voice Alex uses on others, the one that makes everybody fall in love with him.
My eyes search for Sasha. She’s been watching us from the bar inside, too far away to hear much, but when we lock eyes, she jerks her head at the elevator.
I leave the party, and Alex stays, and I never learn what he just wishes for.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Where does he think he getsoff!”
Sasha hurls her body through my apartment door, stomping inside like the petulant celebrity’s daughter she occasionally still emulates. She kicks off her heels while I set the to-go bag of Chinese food on my tiny, scuffed-up kitchen table.
“The entitlement of men never ceases to amaze me,” she adds.
“Tiger, stripes,” I offer with a shrug.
She exhales, rubbing her hands over the smooth ebony skin of her face. “I’m really sorry about tonight, Case. I know you hate events like that, and normally, I would have brought Miguel—”
“Wait.” My head cocks. “I thought you said he had the flu.”
“I fibbed!” She winces. “I thought it would be cool for you to network with Dougie outside of work, but I’d never reallytalkedto the man before, and, well… I didn’t realize he’d be such a handsy, father-knows-best asshat.”
I wave a hand at her. “I appreciate the thought. I think.”
My roommate, Miriam, appears in the doorway of herbedroom—which is honestly just a partitioned section of our tiny, one-bedroom apartment—still dressed in hospital scrubs. It looks like she’s been sleeping; her bleached-blond bobbed hair is a bird’s nest, and mascara is rubbed under her eyes.
“Food?” she croaks.
I beckon her with my palm. “Got you, lover.”
She smiles sleepily and pads into the kitchen, feet clad in panda slippers. “Whose man is entitled?”
“A mutual acquaintance named Dougie Dawson,” I supply while I open the plastic lid of the pork siu mai dumplings.
Miriam sits down beside me. “Sounds like a cartoon character.”
“He thinks he’s the fucking mayor.” Sasha helps herself to a half-drunk bottle of red wine on the bar cart I’m pretty sure is three weeks old. She pours three glasses and hands them out to us. “No offense to your paycheck, Case, but that guy sucks. After you walked away, I tried broaching the subject of female-focused ads on the jumbotrons at sports events, and he all but laughed me out of the room.”
“He’ll probably die soon,” I mutter darkly.
Miriam laughs. “You spend too much time with Brijesh.”
“You’re the one screwing him.”
