Chapter 13 #2
“I said I taught Cardi B. Different claim entirely.” Serena wiggles her eyebrows. “But she’s right—you’re radiating something-happened energy. So?”
I sink back against the counter. There’s no universe where I get away with not telling them.
“You know how Logan and I have had some… tension?”
Layla snorts. “‘Tension’ is a word for it.”
“Well…” My cheeks burn. “We talked.”
“Talked?” Serena’s face scrunched up as if I just forced a lemon into her mouth. “That’s it?”
I roll my eyes. “We also kissed a little.”
Both of them shriek. Serena might actually explode—her entire body goes rigid, then she gives an unhinged little hop, hands flying to her face.
Layla howls. “I fucking knew it!”
“Wait, when? Where? Was it in the lab? I know it was in the lab. Nerds get so hotted up over sciencey stuff!” Serena nearly vibrates out of her shoes.
Layla slaps Serena’s arm. “Let her breathe! Audrey, when was this? Oh my god, did it happen right before the meeting? You were both late. You literally walked in at the same time.”
“Do you ever let people answer their own questions?” I mutter, but my lips can’t stop pulling into a smile.
“Yes. In the lab. Two times, technically. Well, two and a half. I kissed him on the cheek Monday, and today he—” I flail for an appropriate verb, like there’s one in the English language that covers thirty-four years of inexperience, pure logic, and the wildest surge of courage I’ve ever seen.
“He just went for it. Full tilt. It was kind of…” I glance at my own flushed reflection, searching for the right description.
“Intense. But good. Really, really good.”
“Full tilt,” Serena repeats, savoring the words. “I need more details. Scale of one to ten, how good are we talking?”
“I’m not rating it.”
“Why not? I rate all of Caleb’s kisses. He’s currently averaging an 8.7, which he claims is statistically impossible given the sample size, but I stand by my methodology.”
“Your methodology is unhinged,” Layla says. “But also, Audrey—was there tongue?”
“Oh my god.” I cover my face with my hands. “Can we not do this in the work bathroom?”
“We absolutely can and will.” Serena hops up onto the counter beside me. “This is the most exciting thing that’s happened since Layla got engaged. I’ve been waiting for you two to figure your shit out for months.”
“It hasn’t been that bad.”
“Audrey, we spent almost a whole year listening to you talk about him while watching you two orbit each other like sexually frustrated satellites.” She kicks her feet against the cabinet. “Do you know how painful that’s been?”
Layla nods in agreement. “Every time you’d finish each other’s sentences in meetings, I wanted to scream ‘JUST KISS ALREADY’ but Bennett said that would be ‘inappropriate’ and ‘disruptive to the workflow.’”
“Bennett was right,” I say.
“Bennett is a killjoy,” Serena says as she slides off the bench. “But that’s beside the point.” She grabs my arm. “The point is: you kissed Logan. Logan kissed you. In the lab. Before a very important meeting. Which means you two were so overcome with passion that you couldn’t even wait until—”
“It wasn’t like that,” I interrupt, though my face is burning. “It was... he told me something. Something important. Something that explained why he rejected me before I left for Sweden.”
Layla’s expression shifts from teasing to serious. “What did he tell you?”
I hesitate. This is the line I can’t cross—Logan’s secret isn’t mine to share.
And since I never told them specifically about the face-palm incident outside of saying, ‘I tried to make a move and he rejected me,’ they don’t need more than, “It just wasn’t what I thought.
He wasn’t rejecting me. He was just... unsure.
And once I understood, everything made sense. ”
Serena’s face softens. “That’s actually really sweet.”
“It is.” I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “He’s sweet. Under all the awkwardness and the statistics and the complete inability to read the room, he’s genuinely, ridiculously sweet.”
“You’ve got it bad,” Layla observes.
“I’ve had it bad since the first acquisition meeting. This isn’t new information.”
“No, but this—” She gestures at my face. “This is different. This is hope. You look like someone who actually believes it might work out.”
Do I? I turn back to the mirror, studying my reflection. Flushed cheeks, bright eyes, kiss-swollen lips. I look like someone who just had her entire worldview rearranged in the best possible way.
I also look like someone who’s not wearing any armor. No Swedish blonde perfection. No carefully constructed distance. Just... me. The real version. The one I’ve been hiding since I got back.
It’s terrifying. But also, maybe, a little like relief.
“I think it might,” I admit quietly. “Work out, I mean. For the first time since I ran to Sweden, I actually think—”
The bathroom door swings open.
Jenna strides in, tablet in hand, all business. She stops short when she sees the three of us clustered by the sinks.
“Oh.” She blinks. “I was looking for you. Bennett wants to reconvene to finalize the testing schedule.” Her eyes sweep over us—Serena perched on the counter, Layla standing in the middle of the floor, me looking like I’ve been crying or laughing or possibly both. “Is everything... all right?”
“Everything’s great,” Serena says, a little too brightly. “Just having a girl chat.”
Jenna’s expression doesn’t change, but something flickers behind her eyes. “A girl chat. In the bathroom. During a critical project meeting.”
“The best conversations happen in women’s bathrooms,” Layla offers. “It’s science.”
“I don’t think that’s—” Jenna stops herself. For a moment, she looks almost uncertain, which is jarring on someone usually so composed. “Never mind. I’ll tell Bennett you need a few more minutes.”
She turns to leave, and something in my chest twists. Jenna’s always on the outside of these moments—always the professional, always the assistant, never quite part of the group. And suddenly that feels wrong.
“Jenna, wait.”
She pauses, hand on the door.
“You can stay,” I say. “If you want. We were just...” I glance at Serena and Layla, who both nod encouragingly. “I kissed Logan. Or he kissed me. Both, actually. And now I’m hiding in the bathroom trying to process it while these two interrogate me.”
Jenna stares at me for a long moment. Then, very slowly, she lets the door swing shut.
“You kissed Logan,” she repeats.
“Yes.”
“Logan Whitman. The man who’s been staring at you like a lovesick golden retriever for the past year.”
“He doesn’t—” I start, then stop. “OK, maybe he does. A little.”
“A lot.” Jenna’s mouth twitches—the closest thing to a smile I’ve ever seen from her. “When did this happen?”
“About twenty minutes ago. In the lab. Right before the meeting.”
“That explains why you were both late.” She tucks her tablet under her arm, something shifting in her posture. Less rigid. More... human. “And why his ears turn bright pink every time you two make eye contact.”
Serena snorts. “See? Even Jenna noticed.”
“I notice everything,” Jenna says. “It’s my job.
” She pauses, then adds, almost reluctantly, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re good for him.
He’s always been so married to his work.
But ever since he’s been working with you, I’ve noticed he’s more…
alive. That was something painfully absent while you were overseas. He cares for you a lot.”
“That’s... thank you, Jenna.”
She nods, crisp and professional, but there’s a warmth underneath it that wasn’t there before. “I’ll tell Bennett ten minutes. That should give you time to fix your hair—it’s sticking up on one side—and maybe put on some lip balm. You look like you’ve been...”
“Kissed senseless?” Serena supplies.
“I was going to say ‘chafed,’ but yes. That too.” She turns to go, then pauses again. “And Audrey? Dominic’s been texting me constantly about the Tokyo project. Logan is his best friend. So if he has any insights on how to make that man stop being insufferable, I’m open to suggestions.”
“I’ll be sure to ask. But from what I understand, when Dominic decides you mean something to him, that’s it for life. Kind of like a barnacle. You’re not getting rid of him.”
Jenna almost laughs. “That’s what I was afraid of.” She leaves, the clack of her heels receding with surprising lightness.
The three of us stare at the closed door.
“Did Jenna just... have a moment with us?” Layla asks.
“I think she did,” Serena says, sounding awed. “I think we just witnessed Jenna Pemberton experiencing human emotion.”
“She has emotions,” I defend. “She’s just private about them.”
“She’s a vault. A beautiful, terrifying vault.” Serena hands me a tube of lip gloss. “But apparently even vaults crack open for workplace romance gossip. This is historic. I’m marking it on my calendar.”
Layla checks her phone as I apply the gloss. “We should probably head back. I know Jenna said she’d stall. But if Bennett wants to reconvene, we’ve got maybe one more minute before he sends a search party.”