I had to make an effort not to smile like a teacher who had just witnessed their student pass a test with flying colors. Miranda wasn’t my student, but I felt alive just talking to somebody who thought about these things the way I did. Again. I remembered bitterly that it had always been like this between us. Only now I had seven years of experience to show me that I couldn’t find that kind of connection with anyone else, no matter how hard I might try.
I made sure my voice didn’t betray any of what was going on in my head when I finally spoke. I needed to draw a line in the sand now, before it got too tempting to let things between us develop. “Interesting theory, but maybe you should leave the planning to me. Your role as my VP is to execute my orders, not to analyze or understand them.”
Miranda sat back in her chair. The small spark of something I’d seen in her face vanished, and all that was left was the same cold neutral I’d seen when she’d first arrived.
Sitting there and watching the tentative trust she’d been building with me melt away was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. It felt like the air itself was thickening between us, like her walls were coming back up.
I gripped the armrest of my chair until my knuckles cracked. This would get easier. Any mutual feelings she might have for me were surely going to dry up soon.
Seven years ago, I’d broken her heart. Now I finally had a chance to make amends for what I’d done. I just wished there was a way to do the right thing and tell her the truth. Unfortunately, the truth involved the part where I realized I still cared about her. A lot. The kindest thing I could do was suck it up and let this lie play out, no matter how much it stung.
Chapter 5
MIRANDA
I closed the door to my office at Bark Bites and sank down with my back against the wall. I fished through my purse until I found some chocolate and an old, half-eaten bag of chips.
At the sound of crinkling wrappers, Thug came bumbling toward me with his ridiculous underbite.
“Don’t even talk to me right now,” I said to him. He hadn’t pooped in my house, but he’d knocked over the trash can and transported the contents to the corner of my bedroom, where he’d built a stinking, half-rotten little nest. I’d found him happily snoring in the center of it when I’d come home. He’d even had the nerve to look smug when I’d had to give him three baths to get all the smell out of his fur. “We’re fighting,” I added.
Thug didn’t seem to share my hostility. He nosed—and teethed—his silly lopsided snout into my hands and tried to get my chocolate.
“No,” I said. “Chocolate kills you things. And if you keep begging for it, I’m going to be tempted to let you off yourself.”
Thug sat down and made a pathetic grunting sound.
“Don’t even try to look cute. You look like a hairy gremlin. And, no, that’s not a compliment.”
He tilted his head at me. I sighed. “Here,” I said. “You can probably eat a chip without dying.” I tossed one to him, and he snapped it out of the air, swallowing it without chewing.
Even chocolate and salt couldn’t stop me from wanting to headbutt my new boss slash ex-crush in the balls.
I crunched into a chip and chased it with a square of chocolate, but the sweet-and-salty blend didn’t do anything to clear my head. I could still feel the bottled-up emotions threatening to crack through to the surface. I had just been starting to think I was wrong about Nick—that maybe he had grown. But I guessed that was his signature move. He’d let you start to develop feelings for him, and then he’d do something inexplicably horrible and rude to crush all of it and make you feel like an absolute moron for imagining he liked you.
My door opened, and I jumped to my feet, half throwing the bag of chips behind me. In a blind moment of panic, I shoved the rest of the chocolate in my mouth and tucked the wrapper into my bra. Thug took the opportunity to walk over to the corner and start nosing his way into the bag of chips.
Nick paused, looking toward my desk, then flinched back when he saw me standing in the corner of the room instead of sitting at my desk.
I wasn’t surprised when he seemed content to stand there and wait for me to speak first, even though he was the one barging into my office. He carried silence as comfortably as a child carried their favorite blanket. Where most people felt the need to punctuate every moment with words, no matter how senseless, Nick had always been the kind of man who said only things that were worth saying.
So, in a silent game of verbal chicken, we both stood there while Thug noisily chomped down the remains of my chips.
“Yes?” I asked, after lasting a whopping four seconds and change.
“This was left on my desk.” He produced my phone, which, I cringed to remember, was currently inside a cat-themed phone case, complete with pink, rubbery ears. I could’ve explained that it was mostly a joke—mostly, because I really did think the case was cute, but I’d only let myself buy it because I knew my friends would think I was kidding and laugh—but I just snatched it from him and tried not to meet his eyes.
“Thanks.”
Nick’s eyes sank down to my chest.
I could hardly believe he had the nerve to come in here and gawk at me, so I yanked up on my blouse, and I didn’t try to be subtle about the gesture, except . . . I felt the crinkly edge of my candy wrapper when I reached down. Apparently, I hadn’t actually tucked it far enough into my bra to conceal it.
“I just hope you’re chewing before you swallow this time,” he said.
“It’s not mine.” I reflexively pressed the wrapper deeper into my bra. It wasn’t until I was knuckles deep that it occurred to me how inappropriate this all was. My cheeks must’ve been bright red as I pulled my hand out and cleared my throat. “I was just holding it for a friend.”
“In your bra . . . ,” Nick said.
“Maybe it’d be best if my boss didn’t talk about my underwear,” I said.
Nick’s nostrils flared, but I thought I saw a glimmer of amusement behind his eyes. “You’re right. Well, there’s a vending machine in the lobby if your friend likes uneaten candy bars. Were those for your friend too?” He nodded toward the chips spilled in the corner. “Because I don’t think Thug was planning on leaving any for them.”
“I need to get to work.” I muttered the words half-heartedly and went to sit at my desk. I expected Nick to leave, but he just leaned in the doorway and watched me with an interested expression.
Shit.
I found myself sitting behind my desk with absolutely no work to do. Meanwhile, Nick was just watching me expectantly. I cleared my throat daintily, scooted my chair in, and shook the mouse around to wake up my computer. I was greeted by a log-in prompt, which reminded me that I didn’t know my password yet.
I rested my chin on my knuckles and scrunched my forehead like I was reading something particularly troubling. Maybe some numbers from finance that didn’t add up. I reached for my coffee cup, because these imaginary numbers were so problematic that I needed a dose of caffeine to tackle them.
Except I saw my mug was still empty. I’d been planning on filling it as soon as I finished my little stress binge, but Nick had interrupted me. I pretended to take a sip anyway, then pretended to swallow as I set it back down.