“Stop what?” Katie asked, all innocence. “I’m just clarifying.”
“You’re notjust clarifying, Katie. You’re trying to get in my head and make things weird.”
“Sounds like Grant beat her to it,” Brooke murmured.
“You sure he didn’t spike the donuts with pheromones?” Katie asked.
I pursed my lips.
“I have to give it up to the two of you,” Katie said. “It sounds like you successfully pulled off a sexy scene in a parking garage—the favorite location for chase scenes and serial killers. It’s a revolution I’m totally on board with. Right?” She turned to Brooke.
“Definitely a compelling rebrand,” Brooke agreed.
I turned to my computer determinedly. “This meeting is officially over. Now get out of my office before I fire both of you.”
“Fine,” Katie said, making her way to the door behind Brooke. “But let us know the temperature of the sand.”
I shut my eyes and sighed. “Whatare you talking about?”
She held the glass door open as she peeked her head around it, smiling broadly. “The sand you’ve got your head buried in.” She winked and left.
I let out a big sigh and turned back to my ever-expanding to-do list. The number one spot saidbudget review, but my first order or business would’ve more accurately been calledForget about the chemistry test.
FIFTEEN
I receivedan email from Vantive late Monday afternoon asking for a couple of documents and inquiring how the process with Threadline was going.
I sat over the response to that last part for a good five minutes before settling on a vague reply about it going well.
You’d think I’d have some sense for the direction of the article Grant would write—positive, negative, explosive.
I had no clue.
Maybe he’d taken off yesterday to write it.
With Grant, I never knew.
Worse still was how much Iwantedto know.
I had no sense for whether things were different than other times he’d done stories like this. Had he made friends with the CEOs at Taptrack?Werewe actually friends, or was I reading into things?
Other similar, unwelcome thoughts followed me home from work and to the gym.
There was no question-and-answer text from Grant, and it took all my self-control not to send him one. Maybe he’d gotten too busy with his errands. Or maybe he’d learned everything he needed to know about me from the date with Tanner and the parking garage afterward.
He arrived at the office after nine the next morning, and I ignored the little flutter when I spotted him chatting with one of my engineers. Katie and Brooke really had gotten in my head.
I needed grounding. Stat. And there was one thing that always worked.
I pulled out my phone and opened my messages, scrolled all the way to the bottom, and tapped on the one from Chase.
It was silly, really. I didn’t need the physical text. It may as well have been emblazoned on the back of my eyelids. I could summon it as quickly as my times tables. But seeing the black words staring at me on the white screen never failed to take me back to the moment I’d received the text and the feelings I’d felt on seeing those words.
You’re not lovable. That was the real message.
What hurt most was that things with Chase had started so well. He’d loved that I was agirl boss—a phrase I’d since come to hate—and had seemed head over heels for me.
Then he’d gotten to know me better, I guess.
