Decision One & Fated Mates
Mona tells everyone at work about my date with a vampire. Even though I pretend to be annoyed, I’m secretly entertained. It’s stupid. But funny.
Tyler’s been acting more normal since our talk, which is a relief. He even mentioned in one of our team meetings that he and his long-term girlfriend broke up. Which made the suspicions about a relationship between us after his flower reaction disappear.
I took a few days to make sure I was confident in my decision.
And the truth is that as much as I love office romance stories, they usually involve hot, built billionaires.
Not that I have any issue with Tyler not being a billionaire, but I just don’t see him when I picture my future.
Not outside of a working relationship, anyway.
If I date him, there’s just too much at stake. It would be different if I could see a future with him. Rings. Flowers. Babies. It would be worth the effort. HR involvement. Public announcements. Team shifts. And a reputation I don’t want.
“So… you went on a date with a vampire?” Tyler asks as I take a seat in his office.
I hate how adorable he looks as he tries not to smile. Even though the door’s shut, the blinds are open, giving us both the reminder to keep our hands—and other body parts—to each other.
“It was… an experiment,” I say. “Mona and I—but mostly Mona—scheduled dates in the categories that have the asterisks. You know… the ones that require imagination. We may have been drinking. And lucky me, I have three more dates to go. Which, as you can imagine, I’m thrilled about.”
He bursts out laughing. “Like what?”
His reaction reinforces my decision. He’s not jealous in the least. And I’m okay with that.
“Uh, Fated Mates. Fantasy—I’m not really sure which one, though. And Celebrity.”
“There are celebrities on this app?”
“I sincerely doubt it. With my luck, it’ll be someone who appeared on three episodes of Jersey Shore or Mob Wives. If that.”
“I’m more of a nonfiction reader. What the heck is Fated Mates? Like soulmates?”
Snorting, I shake my head. “Um… shapeshifters. Werewolves and whatnot.”
“I might need to read more romance.”
The thought of Tyler reading a romantasy book makes me laugh harder. “If you want to.”
He looks at me and sighs. “I assume you’re here because you’ve made a decision.” When I nod, he forces a smile. “I’m going to guess by the look on your face that we don’t need HR.”
“No, Tyler, we don’t.”
“Oh. Okay.”
His tone is filled with disappointment that stabs me right in the gut. “I like you. You’re great, but I just don’t see this as something long-term. And without that, I don’t think it’s worth the risk of ruining our working relationship.”
“Holly—”
“You’re seriously the best boss, and I don’t want to switch teams. Or report to someone else. If you sucked as a manager, things might be different.”
I hope ending on a joke that’s meant to flatter will help soften the rejection. I really don’t want to hurt him, but I need to make sure we continue to work the way we have been.
The sex in a car with my boss does kind of change the dynamic a bit, but we seem to have worked past that. I hope. Maybe.
“It’s a new take on ‘just friends,’ huh?” Tyler says.
The disappointment only deepens, and I hate this. I shouldn’t have let things escalate as far as they did that night. I never should have gotten a drink from him. Let him toy with me under the table. Or let him inside me in the back of his car.
“Look at it this way,” I say, hoping to salvage something between us that will allow us to continue working together, “you got a rebound out of the way.”
“Excuse me?”
“When you get out of a long relationship, you’re supposed to have a rebound. That person you hook up with but don’t jump into a relationship with. It’s like a palette cleanser for your next relationship.”
A smile spreads across his face. “I suppose so. And our working relationship won’t be weird. I do appreciate all the work you do, and I was kind of dreading losing you as an employee. You make me look good.”
Mona knocks on the door, and Tyler waves her in. She beams, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Sorry to interrupt, but you gotta get going if you want to meet your Fated Mate, Holly.”
Closing my eyes, I groan. “I hate you so much.”
“You love me,” she chirps. “Hey, Tyler.”
“Zimmerman.”
“Let’s go,” I say with a sigh. “Thanks, Tyler.”
He just nods. “Have fun on your creepy date.”
“What was that about?” Mona asks as we walk into the bar.
It’s barely five-thirty, and it’s already packed. I check my phone, expecting to hear from Ken, but he hasn’t texted me back. For someone who says he wants what women want in a relationship, he sure doesn’t act like it.
“It was—”
“Holly!”
We stop in the entrance of the bar as a large, attractive man jumps towards me. I stare with wide eyes as my back hits the wall beside the door.
“Aldo?” I ask.
He bends down to sniff me—an actual, long whiff—before smiling. Mona’s frozen in shock and absolutely no help to me right now.
“I knew you were mine the moment you walked in. I could smell you.”
Smell me? I subtly sniff myself, and I’m thankful to only get a whiff of the faint scent of deodorant.
“Or you recognized her from the profile picture,” Mona says, finding her voice.
He snarls at her, and I have to admit, he kind of resembles Beast from Beauty and the Beast. Only creepy because he’s human. “No!”
“We’re just meeting, Aldo. I don’t think we can say I’m yours… or anyone’s.”
“Meeting’s all it takes for people like us.”
“Oh-kay.”
His smile turns predatory. “So… blood ritual now, during sex, or after?”
Mona snorts and coughs to hide her laughter, but I can only stare in horror. I don’t think a single one of these men actually reads romance books. They just do a quick google search and make assumptions.
“I’m pretty sure I’m not yours, Aldo. And I’d like to never see you again.”
“But, Holly—”
“No bodily fluid exchanges. Ever. Bye.”
I shove Mona outside and down the block while she cackles.
“This is your fault,” I growl at her.
“You joined the stupid thing. Don’t get mad at me for finally getting something out of it.”
Glaring, I shake my head. “Yeah? And what are you getting out of it?”
“Fun.”
“I hate you,” I mutter, walking off.
“You love me!” she calls. “Guess we’re done for the night? Guess I’ll walk home alone. See you tomorrow. Unless I get kidnapped and murdered!”
She’s more than capable of walking to her apartment alone. But I can’t help myself. I turn and call out, “Don’t tease me like that!”