Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
David
I should be happy that I saved the client and my boss doesn’t want to kill me, but knowing how mad Zoe is at me is bothering me to my core.
I can’t blame her for this one. I know we act like we hate each other, but if she pulled that kind of shit on me, then I probably would have reacted the same way.
This is exactly why I tried to tell her.
I couldn’t believe it when I overslept this morning. Two nights of barely getting any sleep over this project finally took a toll on me. Now I’m sitting at my desk, frustrated that I didn’t get to shower or eat this morning, and kicking myself for the way I handled things.
It makes no sense to me why I care so much about Zoe’s reaction.
She’s driven me insane for the past year or more.
Every time she speaks in our meetings, or even smiles around me, it makes my skin crawl.
I don’t know why she gets that kind of reaction out of me, but she does.
I know she feels the same way about me. It’s like we have this rival thing that neither one of us will back down from.
I just played my hand directly into checkmate, but the feelings running through me now are far from satisfaction.
I tried to make it right during our meeting, but of course she’ll never realize that. To her, I’m just the jerk who made her look like a complete fool in front of the client and our boss.
Now we have work to do, and I can’t get her to give me two seconds to tell her what the next steps are.
I watch as she exits Christina’s office and walks back to her desk with her head down.
This overwhelming need to explain myself takes over, so I stand and start her way.
Once she sees me doing so, she turns and heads directly to the restroom, making it pretty obvious she wants nothing to do with me.
Zoe
I panicked. I had no idea what to do, so I walked to the restroom, shutting and locking the door even though there are multiple stalls in here. I just need a few moments to breathe and not lose my shit again.
I attempt to structure my thoughts, but they feel like a popped balloon, leaving mental confetti strewn everywhere.
I start with the most important thing—my job. Thankfully, I still have that, and my emotional tantrum didn’t ruin my career.
Next, I’m still working with the client. Yes, this means I have to work with David, but I’ll take the win that I wasn’t taken off the project.
Now I have to wrap my head around Work David being my Online David.
I open the app and scroll through our messages, trying to figure out how I missed this. David is not a unique name. I’m sure there are thousands in New York alone.
Then it hits me. Does he know who I am? What if he knew the entire time? What if he texted me yesterday to ask me what to do as his way of getting permission?
I told him to do it! I told him to go ahead and throw me under the bus. What is wrong with me?
I scroll through our texts again, searching for clues, and see my answer glaring back at me.
Jenelle.
He thinks my name is Jenelle. I’ve never told Online David my real name. That was the first time he’d typed Jenelle since the very first text he sent me.
I don’t know if I should be happy that I used my middle name or freaking out even more now.
I scroll to the most recent message and see the notification from the app, saying to not respond unless I want him to have my number or asking if I need more time to get to know him.
With my thumb hovering over the screen, I have no clue what to do.
So, I close the app and drop my head against the wall, wanting to fall to the floor but realizing I’m in the restroom so I probably shouldn’t.
“Zoe,” Jana whispers as she knocks on the door. “Open up before Christina comes out and sees me.”
I inhale and exhale, then reach over to unlock the door and wait for her to open it.
She’s quick to enter and close it behind her, whispering, “Are you having a panic attack or what? Why are you in here?”
I swipe my phone on and hold it out to her without saying a word.
She reads the message from the app, saying congratulations, then looks at me, confused. “I don’t get it. I thought you really liked this guy.”
“Read his message above that.”
I wait as she reads what he texted and watch her eyes open wide once it hits her.
“No. Way.”
I bang my head against the wall, and she jumps to place her hand between me and the hard surface, protecting me from any more self-inflicted pain.
“He’s your Online David?” she whisper-shouts, obviously in the same shock I am.
“Yep. That’s him.”
“How did you not know that? How does he not know it’s you?”
“When I signed up, I had no clue how this would go, but with my name being on the less common side, I didn’t want a creepy guy to figure out who I was, so I used my middle name.”
“That was probably smart.” She gives me an impressed expression. “But what does this mean now?”
“Why do you think I locked myself in the restroom? I can’t walk out of here. What am I supposed to do?”
“Do you think he knows?”
I sigh, shaking my head. “I don’t think so. If he does, he’s playing this off very well. He actually asked for my advice last night on what he should do with this client and his coworker.”
“And what did you say?”
“I told him to do exactly what he did! I just didn’t know he was going to do it to me.” I place my hands on my chest, tears streaming down my face.
She raises her eyebrows while rubbing her lips together, giving me a look that screams she’s trying not to laugh.
I push her playfully. “Stop.”
“You have to admit, this is pretty funny.”
“It’s not.” I wipe my face and drop my head back again, staring up at the ceiling. “What do I do?”
“First, don’t think about the app right now. One thing at a time. Does it tell the other person if you’ve read their message or not?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Okay, so we have time with that. He’ll just think you are busy at work.
In the meantime, head out there and feel out the situation.
He’s been trying to talk to you, so let him.
As he explains himself, don’t give away any indication that you know he’s your guy.
See if he gives any hints that he knows it’s you. ”
I drop my head to my chest. “I knew he was too good to be true.”
She thumbs out to where he is in our office. “You do realize that he’s still the same guy, right?”
“You do realize that we absolutely hate each other, right?”
She tilts her head to the side with a smart-ass expression.
“Stop. Your face keeps having conversations with me that I don’t like.”
She laughs out loud. “Because you know I’m right. I’ve always wondered why you guys bicker the way you do. I’d say you two have some sexual tension you’ve been trying to ignore for way too long.”
I push my way past her. “Shut up.”
I ignore her laughter as I pull open the door to exit my safe haven and deal with this situation head-on.