“Hell, I bet Kenickie is the cook.”
My eyes search the restaurant. I don’t see one male employee. “Oh, do they dare date, being co-workers and all?”
Ethan watches me steadily until I fidget under his scrutiny. “Let me ask you a question?” He slides his chair closer, his hot chocolate and dessert untouched. Meanwhile, I’m already deep into my whoopie pie and ice cream. “Do you want to explore this?” He waggles his finger between us.
I shrug. “I didn’t say that. I said that you had to ask me to find out.”
He releases a breath. “I like you, Blanca.”
“Well, thank you. I do think I’m very likable,” I joke but he doesn’t laugh.
“But you said you needed the job and I do as well.”
I put my spoon down. “Okay, so we’ll just be friendly co-workers then.” I shrug, pretending that disappointment doesn’t press heavy against my sternum. “It’s just funny to razz you about it because you’ve basically taken me out on a date but keep referring to it as a work meeting.”
“It could be a getting to know you work meeting. I mean if we’re going to write articles opposite one another then I should know you.”
“Ahh…” I lick my spoon clean and his gaze zeros in on my mouth. “Nicely played.”
“I thought so.” He grins.
I cross my legs and look him over, leaning back in my chair. “What’s your article about this week?”
He mimics my stance but grabs his hot chocolate and takes a sip. “How not to date your co-worker.”
I laugh and shake my head. His cocky smirk says he’s messing with me.
“Great. Let me know how that goes.”
“And yours?”
I shrug. “I was going to do healthy habits for women in their twenties, but now I’m thinking I need to write an opposing piece to yours. Maybe the benefits of dating your co-worker.”
He chokes and almost spits his hot chocolate at me but ends up swallowing it down. It’s the first time he doesn’t appear to have it all together since I met him. “I don’t think there are any.”
“Mr. Ryland, are you questioning my journalistic abilities?”
“I’d never dream of it, Miss Mancini.” His words are serious, but his eyes flirt with me.
Am I necessarily pro co-workers dating? No. But as with everything in my life, you tell me no and I want to prove you wrong.
Like when Carm said I couldn’t run a 5K because I never exercise. I trained for months and ended up beating his time. The look on his face was worth the months of torture. Or Mama when she dared me to cook an entire meal on my own. It might not have been the best meal my family ever had, but no one got sick.
“Do you feel like putting a wager down?”
His eyebrows crinkle in the most adorable way. “Wager?”
“Yeah.”
“How is the winner determined?”
Huh, I hadn’t thought about that. “Whoever gets the most comments online agreeing with their side of the argument?”
He narrows his eyes like he’s not sure I’m serious. What can I say? This is how I solve things. Competition and bets.
“What does the winner get?”
“Hmm…” I tear off part of my brownie and pop it into my mouth while I think.
“We do a platonic getting to know each other like tonight? Loser pays?”
I suppose we’re still pretending this isn’t a date, which is absurd.
“Nah. That’s like a tease.”
“Loser has to buy lunch for the week.”
That was disappointing. I’d thought he’d come up with something better. Something sexual would’ve been nice. I stretch my hand out over the table between us. “Deal.”
He shakes my hand and I feel the contrast of calluses and soft skin. “Deal.”
Chapter Eight
Blanca
I walk into my apartment and Rian is sprawled out on the couch with the remote pointed at the television. Sierra has her legs propped up on the coffee table with a magazine on her lap.
“Oh look who finally returned from her work meeting,” Sierra teases, flipping the page of her magazine.
“Damn, I just lost the bet. I had you doing the walk of shame tomorrow morning.” Rian peeks over the edge of the couch.
“Sorry to disappoint you.” I drop my purse on the kitchen table and slip off my shoes, throwing myself into the chair across from Sierra. I glance at the television. “Do you watch any shows from our generation?” I ask over the audience laughter of something quirky Sophia has said onscreen.
“Hey now, Golden Girls is a classic,” Rian says, and I nod.
“You’re right. But Blue Bloods I’ll never understand.”
“Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“Speaking of knocking it?” Sierra interjects and I glance over to see her smiling wide, tossing her magazine on the table.
“I told you it was work.”
“And then you came in looking like you just fell in love.” She raises an eyebrow.
I sigh and my head falls back to the chair. “Have you ever had that feeling like…?”
“Yeah,” Rian says and sighs, her own head falling to the pillow on the couch.
“Not really, but then again I’ve never met Prince Adrian,” Sierra says.
All three of us laugh.
“What about Sigmund?” I ask.
Rian glances over to Sierra as though she doesn’t know the answer. I’m desperate to figure out why this guy made such a lasting impression on her, but yet they broke up.
“Not really? I mean there was an instant attraction and I want to sleep with you factor but I’m not sure I ever looked the way you do right now.”
Rian raises her hand. “I can attest to that. They went from googly eyes to dating one another to hating one another to despising one another.”
“Hey!” Sierra throws a pillow at Rian.
“What? It was toxic.”
“You’re just agreeing with Dylan because you’re in love with him,” Sierra says.
And there it is. One of the many questions I’ve had about my new set of friends. All those looks from Rian at Dylan weren’t my imagination. The good girl always loves the bad boy.
Rian sits up straight, panic in her eyes. “I am not.”
“Oh please, it’s Blanca, she’s not gonna tell him.”
Rian sets her questioning gaze on me.
I hold up one hand in the air and one like it’s on a Bible. “Your secret is safe with me. Can I ask a question though? Why don’t you tell him?”
Sierra stands from the chair and heads into the kitchen, returning seconds later with three glasses and a bottle of rosé wine. “I’ve asked the same thing.” She pours three glasses, handing one to each of us and sitting down next to Rian. “Maybe the two of us can refute her insecurities together.”
Rian slumps back into the pillow and whimpers. “I thought we were talking about Blanca’s magic connection?”
“Nope. We’re on to you.” I point, sipping my wine and crossing my legs to get comfy on the chair.