“We’ll make this work, Paris.”
“My dating, or what?”
I laughed.
“We’ll make this whole work thing work. I want this job, and you say you’re the best, so let’s prove those who think otherwise wrong.”
“Maybe,” she said softly. “Or perhaps it’s only going to get worse.”
“We’ll make this work,” I repeated.
“I sure hope so. Because I love my job. It’s pretty much the only thing I have.” And with that comment, she walked away, leaving the door open and me standing there wondering what the hell had just happened.
The only thing she had? No, she had more than that. Like I did.
At least, I thought so.
As I looked around my empty office, I wondered what the hell we were going to do. Because I still had a feeling that Paris didn’t like me. Not because I was me, but maybe because I represented everything that sucked in this industry. Or perhaps she really didn’t like me. I didn’t know. But in the end, it wouldn’t matter. Because I was going to prove that I was the best at my job. We were going to finish a fucking amazing project. Then, I was going to leave and go back to my previous position and another project that I loved.
And Paris would just have to deal with that.
I had a contract that I was pretty much going to love as long as I could make this work, a woman that I could maybe see myself with someday, and a family I cared for and loved being with.
My life was on the right track, finally.
What could go wrong?
Chapter 2
Paris
I set my vodka gimlet down next to my water and smiled at the man in front of me. Was it a smile? Yes, it had to be a smile. It certainly could not be an actual grimace, even though I felt it. Because despite this being my fifth blind date in a matter of six months, I would not grimace at the man who sat across from me.
This one was going to work. I would find something in common with him. I would smile, I would have a wonderful evening and perhaps plan a second date.
This one was not going to end in catastrophic failure.
He licked his lips and grinned at me, but not at my face. No, he was looking at my boobs.
Or maybe I was only imagining things.
Okay, perhaps this date would be a catastrophic failure, but that was fine. Nothing was on fire yet. I was not stressing out.
Was I speaking quickly, even in my head? I felt like I was rambling.
I resisted the urge to rub my temples. That wouldn’t help anyone. I needed to focus and be happy. And, apparently, take what I could get.
Andy smiled again and reached for his Woodford on ice. It was a good whiskey, one I liked when I traveled, so at least he had decent taste.
“So, what is it you do again? I know you told me the title, but could you maybe tell me a bit more?”
Step one, get to know Andy. Get to know his work. Try not to roll my eyes when he condescended. Not that he would. Just because I’d thought he had been condescending to me right off the bat didn’t mean that was actually the case. Perhaps I was putting my own spin on things after my frustrating day at work.
“I’m a hedge fund manager,” he said, smiling again, this time, at my eyes. That was a plus.
“Yes, you said that. I don’t have a hedge fund or anything like that, so I’d love to hear more about what you do.”
I wouldn’t. However, I was grasping for straws here. I couldn’t bring out my checklist of okay what are your hobbies, have you been married before, do you condone cheating, what do you think about monogamy, what are your feelings on misogyny, how many children do you want, do you want any children, what is your favorite ice cream topping, do you believe that healthcare should be affordable for all, who did you vote for in the last election?
Those were all questions that ran through my mind every time I sat down with a new date. Many more issues piled up, too, but I couldn’t start off like that while just getting to know him.
Next time I went on a blind date, maybe I’d have him fill out a questionnaire first.
I tapped the table with a finger as he droned on about what he did and how much money he made, and wondered what kind of stationery I would use for that questionnaire. Or would it be electronic? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go fully digital, even though I could probably figure out exactly how to do that and even have it populate a database I could query. It was what I did, after all. Hmm, maybe an app would be best for this. Yes. There were dating apps all over the place, but what if there was an app that got you through those awkward dates? Recorded answers to the questions that were going to be complete hell nos. That way, more people like me wouldn’t have to sit drinking vodka gimlets, pretending to listen when their dates droned on about how their meal partners wouldn’t understand but they’d give it a try.
That was fine, some guys got nervous and started to talk like women weren’t worth much in the brain department. I would figure this out.
Or I would stress myself out while thinking about it. This wasn’t the worst first date I had been on in the past six months, so I figured I’d make the most of it.
“That’s so interesting,” I lied. Hell, my heart wasn’t in this, and even though the light didn’t dim in his eyes, I still felt like a heel. I needed to at least seem interested when I spoke to him. It wasn’t his fault that I’d had a terrible day at work.
“Enough about me for now,” Andy said, smiling. “What about you?” He was quite handsome. Maybe I was actively looking for negatives. The fact that he had asked me what I did and wanted to know more about it had to mean something, didn’t it?
“I’m a software quality insurance engineer.”
“So, you develop software?”
I shook my head at the common misconception. “No, I test it against the business specifications. Make sure it does everything that the company needs it to in the way it needs to be done. Look for those little things that the average person wouldn’t think to check. Everything that you see out there needs to be tested, and the code needs to be combed through. Someone needs to find the bugs before the public does. Before it can fail and possibly end up hurting the bottom line.”
“Fascinating. So, you pretty much tell people what they did wrong.”
I snorted, not exactly the hottest thing ever, but whatever. “Sometimes it sure does feel like that,” I said, shaking my head.
“Though not always. My goal is to be able to work with my team, stay on target with deadlines, and figure things out rather than being the one to call things out all the time.” It didn’t always work out that way. I had no idea how it was going to work with Prior, though that wasn’t something I wanted to focus on right now because thinking about Prior sent me down bad thought paths.
Mostly because I had been attracted to him from the get-go.
The fact that he had a girlfriend, and I was working with him, meant that he was completely off-limits now, in many ways.
Plus, there was just something about him that got under my skin and put my back up. And because of that, I acted like a total jerk.
I didn’t like acting that way. I preferred to have true reasons for the things I did. Being confrontational because I was angry about something else meant that I was not acting in my own best interests—and being plain rude. And despite what others said, that wasn’t my favorite thing.