“And you know me so well? I was offering to help you.”
“I know guys like you. Good-looking, cocky dudes who strut around thinking girls will give them anything because they wink at them. Please. Look at the way you’re standing, looking down at me, like you’re some god on a pedestal. You don’t even know you’re doing it. You think you can just smile and expect me to swoon?”
I glanced at our mingling groups, all warmth and conversations, and here we were, bickering. “No. That’s not even what I was trying to—Never mind.”
“Just say what’s on your mind.”
“Maybe you just have a stick up your butt. You need help getting that thing out, or do you like it wedged up there?”
She wiggled a little. “Feels good, actually.”
“I’m sure it hurts to walk. I’m Jay Shah, by the way. You might know the name? I know you must remember the face.”
She opened her mouth to shoot something back, but seemingly stuttered over whatever she was about to say. Maybe she was the tiniest bit embarrassed about what she’d done at her parents’ house. Would she apologize? Would she mention an excuse?
Now would’ve been the perfect time for her to say something.
And she didn’t.
Rohan popped up beside us, the court clean behind him as Jahn and the other guys left, and said, “Hey, Liya. What are you ladies doing here?”
As if we were in another realm, her face lit up. Her smile was breathtaking, not that her looks could erase the friction between us.
“Rohan! It’s a surprise for your wedding. You have to leave.” She beamed at him, her words sweet and almost singsong, the way a girl might speak endearingly to her brother.
Rohan tilted his head and pointed at himself. “I have a really good surprised face that I can use later.”
She shook her head, her grin never faltering. “Nope. Sorry. Anyway, how are you? Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.”
“I’m good. Trying to get into shape before the big day.”
“Looking great. Don’t get too skinny, though, because we don’t have time to order a new sherwani from India.” She laughed with him, melodious and perfectly normal, as if we hadn’t just been annoying each other.
What the hell? I thought as I watched an interaction too sweet to tolerate.
He laughed and patted his stomach. “I’ll take your advice. I’m fiending some Tex-Mex right now.” He turned to me. “You in?”
“After we ‘worked out’?” I asked with air quotes.
“Please get him out of here,” Liya said, although I couldn’t tell which one of us she spoke to.
I shrugged, and we followed the other guys out. I elbowed Rohan and asked, “So that’s your idea of nice?”
“You must’ve done something to irritate her.”
“She’s like a bear? The slightest movement provokes her? I just smiled.”
“That did it, then,” he joked.
Chapter Three
Liya
A toasted bagel smothered in warm cream cheese hung out of my mouth while I perilously balanced a coffee in one hand and flipped through notes with the other. I wasn’t quite sure what had happened since the last lead left, but I might have, for the first time in my life, bitten off more than I could chew. Speaking of, I shoved more bagel into my mouth and felt cream cheese smear across my cheek. Creamy white stuff was the base of all jokes Wendy, my new assistant, made.
She grinned at me from over her purple-rimmed glasses and brushed the corner of her mouth. “You, uh, got something there. Wild morning?”
I tried not to laugh, because, one, encouraging Wendy only added to her power, and two, the last thing I wanted was to spit out my bagel and ruin my four-hundred-dollar Alexander Wang sweater tee.
Covering my mouth, I held up a finger, trying to silence her and quell the impending laugh, but screw Wendy, because she said, “Careful, don’t want to choke on all that creamy white stuff.”
I absolutely lost it and erupted into very unladylike laughter. At least I didn’t choke. Wendy and I had been friends for almost a year now, and I was glad that becoming her boss with this promotion hadn’t ruined our relationship.
Tears pooled in my eyes. I fanned my face. “Stop it. Stop, seriously, I don’t want to ruin my eye makeup and look like a raccoon for my meeting.”
“Oh, honey. You set yourself up.”
“I’m so glad that we finally get to work together. You were always the highlight of coming up here to talk to the old boss.”
“Yeah. She couldn’t handle me the way you can.”
“What? She didn’t like your dirty jokes?”
“I think she almost fired me at one point!”
I laughed. “Why don’t you stop trying to make me choke and help me figure out this abysmal fiscal disaster?”
“Did Lisa leave you that much of a mess?”
“Yes.” I sipped coffee and downed the rest of my bagel, and then added, “I’m beginning to think her leaving was not her call. I hope, for the sake of her new job, that she isn’t in charge of their budget.”
“I’m not a budget genius, but I’ll try to help. Give me that one.” She flipped through a red folder and nodded her head, then shook it and tsked.
“You have no idea what you’re looking at, do you?”
She dropped the file on my desk. “Nope. That’s why you’re the boss and I’m your faithful assistant.”
“It’s okay.” I exhaled.
“Just tell the director you don’t know.”
“That’s not an acceptable answer,” I replied and paced my office, my nose buried in the red folder. Red meant urgent, right? These atrocious numbers had certainly acquired a rightful status in the red file. A headache thrummed above my nose and behind my eyes.
“I meant more like, you literally just stepped into this position this morning and are looking through files and will have an answer for them as soon as possible.”
“Better. I just can’t accept that I’m fumbling into my first meeting.”
“Not your fault. They won’t expect you to have figured this out within the first hour of getting your hands on it.”
“Mmm…” I hummed in disagreement. Things changed when an employee leveled up to executive status, and being manager over the entire research division left me only four positions away from CEO. There had to be a better response than “I don’t know.”
“Have a seat. I’ll need you to type some notes while I dictate. Divide and conquer.”
Wendy plopped into my cushioned leather chair and swiveled back and forth. “Nice, boss. I’ll transcribe for you anytime.”
Between the rapping against the keyboard, my Prada heels tapping against the wooden floor planks, and dictating, the nine o’clock hour sped by. This was the distraction that I needed to ignore the pangs in my chest for running out…not on Dad or Jay and his mother, but on Momma. She had messaged and called, but I couldn’t quite come to terms with the pain in her blubbering words. I’d selfishly avoided her, but I had to apologize. I had been deceived into that dinner, and perhaps my behavior hadn’t been rational, but it was meant for Dad and Jay—who was indeed the cocky type I’d thought he was. I hadn’t intended to hurt her. But that was me, always hurting my mom by default.