Chapter 7
TUESDAY
IN WHICH DESSA HATES GROUP PROJECTS
Dessa had a personal vendetta against Tuesdays.
Objectively, it was the worst day of the week.
On Tuesdays, no one was fresh from the weekend anymore, but they still had four days stretching before them.
Of course, trying to work through AzRIO’s neglected finance books definitely made it go slower.
Not to mention the dreary cold rain that drummed against the glass windows, making her want to curl up in bed with a book.
Except she had yet to move her stuff into the apartment upstairs, so she was still sleeping on her parents’ sofa, in the middle of their RV’s kitchen until they left on Wednesday.
Which was why she was dragging herself through the morning.
And absolutely not because of the lingering, three-minute voicemail on her phone from Aiden.
She wasn’t even thinking about it. In fact, she’d never thought about Aiden so little in her whole life.
And she definitely hadn’t had a hard time falling asleep in a small bed by herself. She absolutely hadn’t woken up ready to tell him about the weird dream she’d had only to find that he wasn’t beside her. Nope. She refused. Because he didn’t deserve any of those thoughts.
So instead, she threw herself into the numbers—the funding they got from the regional branch, which had indeed been slashed in half over the last four years, and the fees paid by their clients.
The expenditure log had literally not been updated since she left six years ago.
Was everyone here existing on a different spiritual plane where they assumed everything would just work out?
Ugh. It was so like Brad. Forget Jamison or Carly, this was totally why he’d lured her in here.
In the corner, Arthur pounded away on his keyboard like his life depended on it, while Melba jammed out to whatever was playing in her headphones.
Richard thankfully was still sulking somewhere else today, and Dessa had set Jamison to reading through the 10,533 unread emails in AzRIO’s inbox—deleting or organizing them into separate folders for whoever needed to act on them.
Dessa smirked. It absolutely needed to be done, but it was also the kind of unending task she imagined would be doled out in the Greek hell of Tartarus.
There was no way Jamison would last a week in this job before running back to whatever cushy gig the Kanes had ready for him.
She’d even bet a dozen donuts on it with Melba.
With a click, Dessa sent one of her spreadsheets to the printer and walked over to it, trying to think through the other thousand tasks she needed to prioritize.
Jamison stood there pressing each button in a way that was not reassuring. “It says it’s out of cyan. What the hell is cyan?”
“Bright blue.” Dessa rubbed her temple. If they had extra funds after she balanced the books, she’d definitely have to put a new printer on there. This thing had to be from the last century. “We’ll have to replace the color ink cartridge. Just print in black and white.”
“I thought I did,” Jamison said.
“Ugh, here, watch out.” Dessa nudged him aside and faced the printer herself, a string of errors blinking back at her. “When was the last time you used a printer?” She knelt and pulled out a fresh packet of paper from the cabinet underneath.
Jamison grinned as he opened the printer tray and yanked on a jammed sheet. “Why do I feel like you’d use that information against me?”
“Because I still can’t imagine why Jamison Kane of all people would take a job as an office intern.” Dessa opened the pack and placed the stack of paper in the tray. Jamison slid the tray home, but the printer continued to blink belligerently at them.
“Maybe it’s because I have nothing better to do.” Jamison tugged the printer cord from the wall and plugged it back in, and Dessa sighed as it began its rebooting process. “What about you? Why would Dessa McKinney leave her big business in NYC to be an office intern?”
Dessa stared at the printer, avoiding Jamison’s gaze. “When something’s not working, it’s best to reset.”
“From what I remember, seventeen-year-old Dessa was never not working.” Jamison chuckled. “You always seemed to be running a million miles an hour. Straight A’s, track team, after-school job—”
Dessa wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms. “Like you knew me in high school.”
“Oh, c’mon, we had almost every class together. I saw you every day.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t, like, talk.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I definitely remember you actively ignoring me, but that doesn’t mean I was ignoring you.”
Dessa pressed the print button, relieved when it finally began to spit out paper. “You know what I remember about you, Jamison Kane?”
His grin widened as he picked up a stack of website logs. “That I’m incredibly handsome? Charming? Intelligent?”
She slid her excel sheet from his hands, maintaining cold eye contact. “That you’re always poking your nose in everyone else’s business.”
He laughed, doggedly following her back to her desk. Apparently it would take more than a paper cut to deter him. “I hardly think saying ‘hi’ to you in the hallway counts as poking my nose in your business.”
Dessa sat down and batted her eyelashes up at him. “Yet here you are.”
Jamison opened his mouth to respond when the phone rang at his desk. “My, my, I wonder who that could be.”
Dessa rose. “No one could have your number yet, so I can answer it.”
But Jamison was already moving for the phone. “No way, this is my very first call as your secretarial intern.” His smile was a challenge. “I’m not going to let you rob this from me.”
“You don’t even know what to say,” Dessa said, striding after him.
But she wasn’t even close to reaching the desk before Jamison picked up the phone with a wide grin, turning his back to her as she stretched her arm for it.
He was totally going to make a farce of this whole thing, and they would spend an age rebuilding their reputation.
“You’ve reached Azalea Springs Records and Intermediary Office; this is Jamison.”
Dessa paused. The words had vibrated out an octave deeper than his normal speaking voice, calm and smooth like some kind of late-night radio DJ.
The echo of it still rolled through her ears with a heat that flipped her stomach.
More than that, he actually sounded like he knew what he was talking about.
She leaned closer to try to hear the other end of the line, but Jamison dodged her, putting the desk between the two of them with a playful grin.
“Absolutely,” he said in his deep phone voice that was absolutely not sending a pleasant chill down Dessa’s spine.
“Yes, we can do that. Where?” A pause as Dessa glared at him, mouthing “who is it?” Jamison’s crinkled gaze danced under the warm office lighting.
“Yes. We’re leaving now. Thanks.” With that, he hung up the phone and shot Dessa a victorious grin.
“First intern call. Check.”
Dessa’s scowl deepened. “Well, who was it?”
“Oh, c’mon, Blue, where’s the trust? You don’t think I can answer a phone?” He cocked his head. “What happened to your blue hair anyway?”
“Long story that I’m not telling you.” Dessa huffed out a breath, tucking her hair self-consciously behind her ear. “Just tell me who ‘we’ is and where you think you’re going.”
“You don’t think I’m very smart, do you?” Jamison leaned against the desk, clearly enjoying himself. “Remember when we were in that group project in Advanced Bio, and you offered to do the whole thing yourself?”
Dessa frowned, wishing she didn’t recall what he was talking about but finding she very much did.
Because he’d surprised her. Already scarred by group projects in the past, she’d never expected the popular joker to do his share of the work.
To her surprise, his research had been excellent and on time, and they’d gotten the highest grade in the class.
“It’s not that I don’t think you’re smart,” she grumbled.
Though it was true, she had to admit that it had surprised her multiple times in school.
Something about Jamison’s dimples and blond hair just screamed “Malibu Ken.” “But I’m…
” The image of lipstick on Aiden’s collar stabbed through her.
All his texts about working late that she no longer trusted.
The hours she’d spent carrying the team that she loved. “I’m not great at working with people.”
Jamison’s face softened. “Well, now’s your chance to practice. Because they moved up our appointment with Carly’s ex-boyfriend, and we’re supposed to meet them at the North Pack Office, wherever that is.” His mouth quirked up. “I didn’t ask because I figured you’d know.”
“It would be better if you stayed here and I took Melba instead.” Dessa started for her bag where it hung from her chair. “They know her.”
“Nice try, but I already said I don’t do field trips anymore, dear.” Melba grinned as she tucked a sour gummy worm into her mouth. “Just take the boy already. That’s literally what he’s here for.”
Dessa smothered a frown and considered him again. Going alone absolutely went against every policy they had at AzRIO, but if he pulled the same attitude on the Were’s territory as he had with the Vampires yesterday, they’d take a bite out of him.
And that would mean more paperwork.
Jamison pulled a set of keys from his pocket, his dimples popping. “I’ll drive.”
Rolling her eyes, Dessa grabbed her bag and turned for the door. There was only so much energy she could muster to resist inertia on a dreary Tuesday. “Fine. Let’s go.”
“Don’t forget about the activity report,” Arthur called from behind his desk. “Both of you have to write one, and I require detailed accounts.”