“What?” I almost shouted the word out. “You can’t say that to me. Even if I don’t want to date anyone else, you still can’t say that to me.”
The lift finally arrived and the doors opened with a ping.
I looked at Ben once more before climbing in and closing the doors behind me. “Fuck,” I cursed loudly and leaned against the wall.
What was wrong with this man? How dare he think I would ever go out with him after all that?
42. TGI WTF . . .
Friday was the day that everything fell apart. And when I sayeverything, I mean my whole world imploded. What do they say,TGIF?What crap, it was more like TGI WTF?
I was busy on the phone with a client, trying to explain to them in the most diplomatic way possible that the deadline that they had set for the entire print campaign was unreasonable, and unless they wanted the creatives to work through the night for two days straight, it would be impossible.
I heard the papers on my desk move and then saw a hand pushing them away out of the corner of my eye. I turned and looked up to find none other than the Blue Eyed collarbone assaulter sitting on my desk. I looked around to see if anyone else could see him, and they could. His loud throat-clearing had ensured that everyone sitting near me was now looking at him.
“Uh, Giovanni . . . Hi.” I was caught off guard and I immediately looked over at Ben’s office to establish whether he was looking in my direction. He was not.
Giovanni smiled down at me and leaned in, making absolutely no attempt to hide anything he was feeling right now. “Your pictures came out as perfection,” he whispered.
“Oh. That’s nice,” I said as casually as possible.
“I’ve come to bring them to Ben, maybe I could show you them though, maybe over drinks later.” He smiled again.
I wanted this guy off my desk as fast as possible so I agreed. “Sure. Sounds good. Now if you’ll . . . I have to . . . photocopy something.” I jumped up and grabbed some papers off the desk and was just about to move away when Ben came striding out of his office.
Fuck!
“Giovanni, I hope you’re not disturbing my staff,” he said rather pointedly. I wanted to die.
“No. Not at all, I was just speaking to Sera about something. And I came to give you the photos.” He pulled a DVD out and passed it over to Ben.
Ben looked down at the thing with what seemed to be disdain. “Uh, thanks. But you know you could have Dropboxed them to me. No need to come out here and deliver them like . . .” Ben held the DVD up and glared at it, as if he hadn’t seen one in ages and was absolutely repulsed by it, “this,” he finally said, looking back at Giovanni.
“I’m all about the personal touch,” Giovanni said, flicking his eyes back to me. A look that did not go unnoticed.
“I bet you are.” Ben’s tone was acerbic to say the least and it caused Becks and Angie to start staring.
“Like I said . . . photocopy, photocopy, photocopy,” I waved my handful of papers in the air and started moving off as quickly as I could.
“So drinks later, then, Sera?” Giovanni called after me. His words stopped me dead in my tracks. It was as if he was baiting me. Baiting Ben. He wanted to cause drama, he wanted to cause a scene, and he had a captive audience.
“Uh, about that . . .” I turned around again. “I don’t think I’ll be—”
“Sera’s busy tonight.” Ben cut me off before I could finish. His tone was downright vicious now, but Giovanni looked like he didn’t care. In fact, he seemed to be relishing it all.
“Work related, I’m sure.” Giovanni gave a slight snort.
“That’s between us, I think.” Ben said it snarkily and my heart started thumping in my chest. This was bad. I needed to stop this before it turned into something that would be talked about around that hypothetical water cooler.
“Well, the photocopy machine waits for no one.” I turned and hightailed it out of there. But I didn’t go to the photocopier, instead I went to the bathroom and shut myself in the nearest cubicle.
“Fuck!” I said to myself as I sat there, the heat and beads of sweat on my face you get from a terribly embarrassing moment prickling my face. “Shit,” I hissed at myself again.
I sat in the cubicle for ages, not wanting to move, but knowing that I needed to eventually leave before they sent out a search and rescue party. I flushed the toilet for some level of authenticity and walked out. When I did, Angie and Becks were there.
“Angie. Becks,” I said in fright.
“Sera,” Becks repeated.
