6. Chase
Chase
Your Number by thebandfriday
“You’re getting mighty close to the same price as a pet daycare.” I frown, fisting my hand in my pocket in search of another twenty. “I mean, seriously, what’s the perk of having a roommate when they charge for pet sitting? She’s a cat; she pretty much takes care of herself.”
Ryan tilts his head and fakes a pout. “Would you rather she go without kisses and snuggles all day? You wouldn’t do that to your poor girl, would you?” he coos, bending over to pick up my pride and joy.
He plants an exaggerated smooch on her little pink nose. Honey clearly doesn't appreciate it and pushes off his chest with her back legs before scampering into our apartment.
I scoff softly. He’s right. I like knowing at least someone is around to spoil her all day with love while I’m away at work.
Even if she doesn’t particularly like him, Ryan is a software engineer who works from home, so it’s the best-case scenario.
Plus, it’s not like she’s a fan of many people anyway.
My shoulders slump as I admit defeat. “Yeah, okay. Just go easy on my pockets, okay? I’m only making so much.”
His brows pinch. “Didn’t you just get a raise?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don’t forget to let her out at six, or else she gets cranky,” I call out as I slip out the front door.
***
As I complete my morning errands, my mind can’t help but wind up on Jeremiah. Today is my first one-on-one meeting with him.
I basically volun-told him to do this with me, and here I am, regretting the whole thing. One minute, I'm relieved he seems to have forgotten our past. The next, I'm wondering why that bothers me so much. The back-and-forth makes me squirmy.
I skate through the hallways, saying hi to everyone and catching up along the way to his office. I love my morning rounds. There’s nothing better than bothering as many co-workers as I can—especially Mia.
“Iced caramel latte for my queen,” I say, handing her the morning drink she requested via text message this morning.
“Why, thank you, sir,” she says in an awful Victorian accent and takes the drink from my hand. “I’ve got news.” She spins around in her chair, nearly knocking into her desk.
Wearing a red leather bucket hat with matching flared pants and a white baby-tee, she looks straight out of a 2000s rom-com.
She flicks through her phone before shoving the screen in my face.
“Survey results are in.” Her eyes light up.
“The LGBTQIA plus community has completely fallen for WingMate. Look at this—” Swiping through again, she shows me a new screen showcasing customer feedback and reviews flooding the app store.
Not only that, but WingMate sits at the top of our competition for most downloads.
“We’re number one for queer dating.” She bounces in her chair.
I hold her hand steady as I take in the information.
A grin so big it makes my cheeks ache, spreads across my face. “Fuck yes!”
WingMate started after Heather fell in love with her partner while bowling with friends. She has dreamed of seeing the same thing happen to others in the same community. My heart floods with happiness as I think about what this could mean for so many people looking to find their soulmate.
“Keep up the great work, boss.” She winks at me.
“Thanks, kid.” I wink back.
She rolls her eyes at me and turns her chair around. I know how much she hates me calling her that, but damn, seeing her expression is fun.
Almost as fun as seeing someone else's reaction to me.
That reminds me. I glance at my watch.
“Oop. I gotta go.” I grab my stuff and head for Jeremiah’s office.
I see him typing away on his computer screen. His brows are furrowed over his glasses as he dives into whatever he’s working on.
Glasses. Huh.
The black frames look sleek on him. Almost makes him look more professional, if that’s even possible.
I give his glass door a couple of knocks before pushing in.
“Morning, boss.” I flash a bright smile, placing my tray of our drinks and a white paper bag of food beside it.
He looks up from his computer and scans me warily over his lenses before dropping his gaze to my parchment.
“What’s this?” he asks, poking the bag with his finger.
“This is a breakfast upgrade.” I grin, dunking my hand in and dispersing its contents. “I noticed that you didn’t like your smoothie, so I made some swaps.”
“I enjoyed my smoothie.” He frowns, taking his glasses off. Boo.
I arch a brow at him as I place his bowl in front of him. “You’re a liar.”
His lips part slightly, clearly taken aback by my tone. “You can’t call me a liar, I’m your boss.”
I mean, technically, he’s right. But, instead of rebutting, I just slide his breakfast closer to him.
“High-protein yogurt bowl,” I state.
“What makes you think I care about protein?”
“Well, clearly you work out,” I answer, easily.
That is, before I look up and see the confused expression on his face.
Fuck.
“I just mean, I’ve seen your thighs—” My cheeks immediately heat as the words tumble out of me. “I just—I can tell you work out because I do, too, and I like to think I know a thing or two about healthy eating. So…eat.” I plop down in my seat, setting my breakfast up in front of me.
His gaze lingers on me long enough, making me already regret this whole morning. Avoiding eye contact, I focus on undoing the lid on my own bowl.
After I divide the napkins and wooden spoons, he finally breaks the silence.
“You got the same thing as me?” he asks, curiously looking over at my breakfast, as he stares down at my identical bowl.
I shrug. “It looked good.”
“And you’re eating it here?” He hesitates, slipping his spoon into the bowl and scooping out a single bite.
I sigh, plopping my spoon inside and mixing it around until it’s all light purple, stained by the blueberries.
“Do you have a problem with that, Blackwood? I thought we could talk about work stuff. The Gala. Whatever. We’re partners on this thing.
Partners eat and talk, you know. It doesn’t have to be weird. ”
His jaw clenches as something fiery flashes behind his eyes. “I never said it was weird.”
I huff. “Well, good.”
“Good,” he bites, bringing the spoon to his lips.
Stubborn ass.
“Well?” I motion to his bowl. “You like it?”
He shrugs, eating his bite slowly. “It’s fine.” His eyes gradually drift to mine. “Thank you,” he mutters quietly.
I fight the smile threatening to tug at my lips. Instead, I just nod and slip some yogurt into my mouth.
“Oh! I almost forgot.” I dig into my front pocket and take out a little Ferrero Rocher. Resting it on his desk beside his bowl, I sit back, satisfied and content.
He glances from the chocolate to me and back again. It seems like he’s about to say something—probably that he hates chocolate or that I should shove it up my ass—when he surprises me.
With a defeated sigh, Jeremiah leans back in his chair. “So…the gala. Where do you want to start?”
My lip twitches. “How about today we tackle the name and go from there?”
***
This week has flown by faster than I thought it would. Slipping into Jeremiah’s office in the morning to have breakfast and chat about the upcoming Gala has turned into a routine.
Of course, all we’ve been talking about is the event, now named—Elevate—but I feel like he’s slowly warming up to my cheery presence.
Very, very slowly.
“I like the idea of the speeches. Great personal touch.” Jeremiah nods, biting into his Ferrero.
Somewhere along the past week, he’s actually opened up to eating it, and it makes my stomach do funny things whenever I see him bite into it.
I stand up from the desk and grab my papers. “It’ll be the perfect time to share what this all means to the company. Heather will love it.” I smile, shuffling the papers into a neat pile.
Jeremiah sits back in his chair and looks at his computer screen.
One thing I’ve noticed while spending every morning here is that he looks exhausted and stressed whenever I leave. It’s almost as if he doesn’t mind this portion of the job, but dreads the rest.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he was bored half to death.
The thought makes me look out the office doors and see my co-workers going about their morning.
“A bunch of us are going to Donnellys for a drink tonight. You should come out with us,” I mention casually.
Jeremiah’s gaze flitters over to mine. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
My brows pinch. “Why not?”
Folding his arms across his chest, he sits back in his chair. “I’m your boss. I shouldn’t be going out for drinks.”
I squint. “Heather comes out with us all the time.”
Jeremiah shakes his head. “Yeah, well…I’m new. First impressions and all.”
My shoulders slump at his lame excuse. “Have you ever heard of boosting morale? Come on, it’s Friday night. What else do you have going on?”
Jeremiah presses his lips together; clearly, that was not the right thing to say.
I try again. “It’s kind of a tradition here, so if you don’t come, it’ll be rude.”
That makes him pause. “Tradition?” He blinks once.
I give him a firm nod.
Hook, line, and sinker.
He looks away, muttering something under his breath before caving. “Fine. We’ll see.”
“Fine.” I shrug.
He scoffs before steering his attention to his computer screen. “Goodbye, Rutherford.”
He shakes the mouse back and forth, waking it up to reveal his very boring, very basic background setting.
Obviously, that’s my clue to leave.
I walk out of his office without another word and beeline it straight to Mia's desk. She’s busy typing away at her computer as I whip my head over the partition.
“Donnellys. Tonight. You’re coming for drinks, and I need you to spread the word. Tell everyone you can.” I rush.
Mia shakes her head, eyes locked on her screen. “Nuh uh. Not tonight. I’ve got plans.”
I wave my hand in front of her eyes, successfully catching her attention. “Cancel them. This is important.”
“Um, the season finale of Love Island is no joke, Chase.”
“I will literally take you out to that all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant you’ve been begging me to go to,” I plead.
She narrows her eyes at me. “The one on King West? You’re paying?”
I roll my eyes. She’s been wanting me to go to this over-expensive and, quite frankly, snobby sushi restaurant forever.
I grumble a few choice words under my breath before conceding. “Yes and fine.”
She grins, clearly satisfied with her negotiating skills. “Damn, this must be important to you. That place is like eighty bucks a person.”
“Don’t remind me,” I mumble under my breath. I shoot a glance over my shoulder at Jeremiah in his office. He’s now talking on the phone, looking as business-like as ever. “It’ll be worth it, though.”