Chapter Four #2
I’d gotten chicken that night, but I understood enough to promise I’d never do it again.
“Can I help you with something?” I ask the office pest, waving my hand at my computer screen. “I’m a little busy right now.”
His eyes move from me to the screen. “Is that the Moskins case?” he asks with way too much interest as he pushes off the wall and steps into my personal space.
I quickly turn the screen away from him and power it off. “It is, but we both know I can’t say anything about it.”
I don’t like the mischievous spark in his eyes. He’s up to no good, and I don’t trust him. Especially when he sits on the corner of my desk like he owns it.
Prick.
“How did you manage that anyway?” he asks, stretching his legs out in front of him. “You go from fetching coffee and doing meeting minutes to being part of a high-profile case for someone you probably didn’t know existed five days ago.”
My eyes narrow. He’s right, I had no clue who Moskins was, but what does that matter? It clearly gave me the advantage. “Your point?”
He huffs out a laugh. “I’m clearly better suited to be on his case. I know him, his stats, and everybody signed to his new team. It’s strange that you got assigned to it, and I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
All I can do is blink. Is he implying that I somehow bribed my way onto this case?
With what? I literally agreed to go on a date with him for food, which means I have no money to my name.
If I did, I’d have a stocked fridge at the apartment and no reason to agree to the amount of overtime I do.
There isn’t anything else I could offer to convince Janel to assign me to this specific case.
“Have you ever thought that if you were a decent person, you might have gotten picked for this?” I question with a bite to my tone.
He deserves it for trying to accuse me of shady shit.
“I know for a fact that you were pulled from the Shiba Humphrey case because you flirted with her and tried to get season tickets out of the deal.”
Defense instantly squares his shoulders. “I was joking. Nobody can take a joke these days.”
Oh, please. “The only thing I did to get assigned to this case is earn Janel’s trust. If she trusted you, you and your vast knowledge of all things Thomas Moskins would have been on it.”
His glare would turn me to stone if it could, but I don’t care. Nobody is going to come into my space and tell me I haven’t earned something that I work hard for every single day.
“I come in early,” I tell him, lifting my thumb.
“I stay late,” I add, lifting my index finger.
With each point, I add a finger to emphasize the list of reasons why I deserve this more than he does.
All while locking eyes with him. “I don’t gossip.
I don’t flirt. I have the decency to say hello to everybody here rather than giving them the cold shoulder.
You can be mad all you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m on Moskins’s case and you’re not. That’s not going to change.”
Just as he’s about to say something that would probably border on harassment, a new gravelly voice cuts into our conversation. “She’s right. So get the fuck out of her space.”
It doesn’t come to me who the person is until we both turn to see Thomas Moskins standing there. His eyes aren’t on me, but on Cody. And they’re narrowed into unimpressed, inquisitive slits. It’s not an expression I’d want on me if I were my coworker.
Cody pushes to his feet, completely morphing his face into a fake expression of professionalism as he extends a hand to the hockey player. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Moskins. Winter and I were—”
“You,” he cuts Cody off, “were just leaving.”
Cody’s smile drops when the professional athlete ignores his outstretched hand and gestures behind him. He’s not going to shake it. He’s not even going to pretend like he gives a shit.
I have to curl my lips back to hide a smile as Cody grumbles under his breath. That is, until I realize that he’s mumbling what sounds oddly like, “…clearly sleeping with her client.”
My heart drops at the accusation.
And I’m not the only one who hears it.
Before Cody can storm off to whatever bridge he crawled out from under, Thomas Moskins grabs hold of his arm to stop him. “The fuck did you just say?”
My eyes widen at the venomous tone that even has Cody looking wary.
“I-I—” My coworker stumbles over his words as he stares wide-eyed at the man he clearly wanted to work with. I wonder if he’s second-guessing that now.
My new client pulls Cody toward him, so there’s barely any distance between them.
It’s only then that I realize how tall he is compared to my coworker.
He towers over the man who, only seconds ago, crowding my personal space.
I wonder how he likes it. “If I ever hear you disrespect another woman, I will make sure you don’t have a goddamn job to come back to. Feel me?”
Cody is quick to nod vigorously.
It’s enough for Moskins to let him go and shove him away. As Cody scurries off, Thomas calls out, “And lay off the fucking body spray. You smell like a douchebag.”
All I can do is gape at the right-winger as he turns to me with a deadpan expression.
I blink.
He blinks.
I swallow.
He stares.
“Do we have an appointment?” I ask, frowning down at my calendar. I’m meticulous about updating it. He’s not on here until Wednesday, when he’s supposed to come in to speak with Janel and me about our game plan. I’m still making cold calls and cementing all the little details to propose to him.
“Come on,” he says, grabbing the jacket I have hung up on a hook outside my cubicle. He tosses it to me, and I barely catch it before it hits me in the face. “Let’s go.”
I don’t move an inch. “Ugh…where?”
“Out,” he answers dubiously, staring at me as if I’m an idiot for not following. His chin dips to my coat. “Put that on, it’s raining outside.”
Why is he so bossy? “I can’t just leave. I’m working. What is this about? You’re not supposed to be here for another two days.”
Apparently, he doesn’t love being questioned. “Do you always push back this much?”
I can’t help it. I lift my shoulders casually and nod. “Sometimes.”
He tries hiding it, but I see the slightest twitch on his lips. “We’re getting something to eat. We need to talk, and I’m hungry.”
That sounds way too serious. “Janel has a meeting in ten minutes, so we can’t go until—”
“I don’t want Janel,” he informs me, not bothering to let me finish my sentence. “I’m here to get you.”
Confusion makes me sit silently as I gawk at him. He’s not here to speak to Janel. Weird, but okay. Why me? “She’s still the main lead on your case, Mr. Moskins. It’s better if she’s there if you need to discuss things relating to it.”
Boundaries, I remind myself. Set boundaries.
He rolls his eyes at me as if I’m being ridiculous. “First off, don’t call me that. Secondly, I already cleared it with her. She knows you’ll be stepping out. Like I said, we need to talk.”
My stomach tingles as I process his demand. Do I believe him? Not really. I have no reason to. But it’s almost my lunch break anyway, so I can always take it early and make sure I’m back within an hour. If I go over, I’ll stay late again. No big deal.
Except, it feels like a big deal.
“This is a work meeting, right?” I ask him as I stand to slide my jacket on and zip it. Grabbing my purse from my desk and draping the strap over my shoulder, I collect my notebook and a pen in case there’s anything I need to write down.
His only reply is, “What else would it be, Bronte?”
It sounds like a challenge.
One I do not take.
So all I ask is, “What should I call you then?”
Slowly, his lips curl into a grin that would make anybody nervous. “I have a few ideas, sweetheart.”
My spine straightens. “Do not call me that.”
His grin only spreads. “Touch a nerve?”
I don’t respond.
He chuckles. “Let’s go.”
He still doesn’t tell me what to call him.