Sierra shakes her head and glances at Rian. “She’s a self-doubter. You two are almost replicas of one another.” She laughs, finishing off her wine and setting the glass down before grabbing the remote. “Let’s watch some You Tube videos of Prince Adrian.”
Rian groans like this is something she’s forced to do regularly.
Sierra clicks on a video and for the next half hour my thoughts drift back to Ethan. How am I going to nail this article and squash my attraction to him? Leaving for another magazine can’t happen until I gain enough experience at this one. So I have to train myself to ignore those dimples.
Damn, like magic his face comes into my mind.
Whack.
I pick up the pillow from where it fell onto my lap and look over at a smiling Sierra. “Daydreaming about Romeo over there? Stop the moaning, it’s making me horny.”
Rian giggles and lays her head on the pillow.
I snuggle the pillow into my chest. When did my life get so complicated?
Chapter Nine
Ethan
For being a type A personality, I really lack skills in time management. Arriving late to work isn’t a new thing for me, but this morning I’m an extra ten minutes late because Mrs. Andrews decided to chat with me about her concerns over Seth. I mentioned that Dylan was probably a better candidate to have that conversation with since he still lives with him. Then her questions about why I wanted two bagels instead of one today started and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Lying to her didn’t feel great.
Dropping off a French toast bagel with plain cream cheese on Blanca’s desk was something I envisioned from the moment I decided I’d do so last night.
In my head she’d be all flirty smiles and hopefully forgot to button her blouse all the way up. Okay, yeah, I knew that last one was a long shot. But I didn’t think she wouldn’t be there when I arrived, and I sure didn’t think I’d be the second person to leave a bagel on her desk.
My eyes bore into the sesame bagel with chive cream cheese and a bite mark out of it sitting on her desk. I scan the immediate area for which dog is pissing around my tree. Was it Carl from accounting or Bill from marketing? Who else has their eyes on Blanca in this office?
Shit. I run a hand through my hair.
Cool down. You’re not trying to win Blanca Mancini over, remember douche?
“What’s with the face?” Blanca slides by me and all I smell is her perfume. She’s purposely upping the enticement. I just know it.
She sits down and crosses her legs, her skirt riding up her thighs.
Can I please gouge my eyes out right now?
“What face?”
“The murderous one.” She points at me like I know what I look like. I smack on my smile and her frown forms a crease between her eyebrows. “No need to fake it on my account.”
She picks up her bagel and it’s then that I notice the wet spot on her blouse. She must see me check it out because she shakes her head. “Cream cheese fell off.”
“Very convenient place.” I shift my gaze, but it immediately floats back since the wet spot is literally right above her right breast.
Someone up there finds this funny, right? I take a quick glance upward.
“Oh, you already got a bagel?” she asks, her shoulders sagging a bit as she stares at the one in my hand.
I look down like I didn’t know it was there and hand it over to her. “No, it’s for you, but I see someone else…”
“Go check your desk.” She giggles, taking the bagel from me.
I peer around the thin partition between our desks and sure enough a bagel sits there from The Bagel Place. “You got me a bagel?” I ask.
“You sound surprised. Then again, the things I’ve heard about you already… I can see why maybe no one would bring you a bagel.”
I step over to my desk, quickly typing in my password so my computer can start the painful process of booting up. “What did you hear?” I step back over to the partition so I can see her.
“Nope. I’m not going to be the water cooler of the office.” She falls back into her seat.
I unwrap the bagel she got me. The Bagel Place isn’t even comparable to Andrews Bagel Co. but she’s new in town so she wouldn’t know that. “I’m impressed.” I change the subject because I can imagine the stories she’s heard. I’m not a well-liked guy around here because I don’t do their Friday night drinks and I didn’t contribute to the potluck last month. Nor do I join the weekly lottery pool. I guess it holds no weight that I chipped in for Carl’s birthday cake or gave a gift to Mandy when I didn’t even attend her wedding. People probably don’t see me as a team player.
“I impressed you?” She spins her chair around.
I can’t help the smile on my face when I see that she’s ditched her bagel for mine.
“You guessed right.” I hold up the Asiago bagel with plain cream cheese in my hand.
“Oh good. I wasn’t sure about the flavor of cream cheese, but I spotted the Asiago yesterday. I’m not a mind reader or anything.”
I prop myself up on her desktop, opening up my bagel. “You could’ve just said ‘yeah, I’m pretty cool like that.’”
“I am cool, but I don’t take credit for things I didn’t do.” She tears off a piece of her original bagel, setting the French toast one down.
“So I guessed wrong, huh?” I nod toward the discarded bagel.
She laughs. “I’m a savory over sweet kinda girl but I see why you thought sweet, what with dessert last night.”
“Then why would you take a bite?”
“It’s called being polite, which I hear you have a hard time being.” Another giggle falls out of her lips and I want to swallow it down. Preferably with my tongue. Then she eyes the bagel in my hands. “You’ll come to find out that Andrews Bagels are the best.”
“Then I guess you’ll be picking me up one next week after I win?”
“I thought we were doing lunch?”
“Do they not serve sandwiches on bagels?” Both her eyebrows raise.
I jump down from her desk. “You’ll be buying mine.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Just as I’m about to leave her alone because I’m probably really looking needy right now, Mr. Copeland stops in front of her cubicle with his morning cup of coffee in hand.
“Glad to see you guys are getting along.”
I’m sure he means that more like, ‘I’m glad to see you get along with someone, anyone, Ethan.’ He’s the biggest “rah-rah co-workers are second family” in the office.
“Good morning, Mr. Copeland.”
“Please Blanca, call me Phil.”
She smiles but doesn’t repeat it.
“I got both your proposals for the mid-month issue and I have to ask, did you plan it together?” Neither of us have a chance to respond before he speaks again. “Post lunch meeting in the conference room. Say one o’clock?”
“I’ll be there,” I say.
“Sounds good,” Blanca says.
“Great. You’re both so amenable this morning.” His stare lingers on me. I tend to swim against the current, but I’m behind this opposing-articles idea Blanca came up with. He steps away but doesn’t leave, sipping his coffee for a moment. “Get a rough sketch of your article together. I want to see where they’re going.”