13. Oh, you thought this would be fair?
CHAPTER 13
OH, YOU THOUGHT THIS WOULD BE FAIR?
CHARLIE
M onday mornings are a bitch. Yeah, yeah, what’s new.
Today is a new kind of kick in the ass, though, because the taste of Emma has lasted all weekend, and if she was cold to me before, I’m expecting subzero temperatures now.
Look, I didn’t make it this far in life believing in fairy tales. I know it’s not going to happen again, but I can’t stop thinking about it, thinking about her .
How incredible she tasted.
How right she felt in my arms, gripping me tight, her lips opening beautifully under mine.
How quickly she’s ruined me for anyone else.
Reliving it is maddening, but finding even a minute to talk to her in private is an impossible task. Her calendar is booked solid with meetings I expect are code for “I’m busy, don’t bother me.”
Then when she does finally return to her desk, Drue appears.
“Hey, so, Malcolm needs six hundred new numbers, and the distribution matrix didn’t load correctly, so it all has to be redone.” By the time the poor guy spits it all out, he’s so tense his shoulders are next to his ears.
“Okay, deep breaths. You can bulk load the numbers, and I can fix the distribution.”
He sags in relief. “Are you sure? I know how swamped you are.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I say, waving him off. This new project is already running me ragged, and that’s while Ops isn’t imploding. But what’s one more thing on my plate?
“Thanks, Charlie.”
He leaves me to a fresh clusterfuck that completely derails any other plans I have for the day.
It’s only when I’m dick deep in the data that I realize how quiet it is.
Emma’s at her desk, but the furious chorus of her typing is missing from behind my screen, so I wait, holding my breath, knowing she’s got something to say.
It doesn’t take long.
“Is the distribution likely to take a while?” she asks, her tone curious.
It’s enough to make me suspicious. “All day, probably.”
She stands, and I don’t even try to hide how quickly my attention jumps to her. Emma’s always beautiful, but this morning, she’s a walking fantasy. White button-down under a body-hugging black dress, hair long and loose.
“I know a trick for that if you’d like. It might save some time.”
The chance that this is another wild goose chase is small, but I’m still wary. “What do I have to do?”
It’s a good thing I’m sitting down, because the way her eyes light up as she rounds her desk to mine knocks me on my ass. The smell of blossoms and sunshine follow her like she’s a cartoon princess.
Goddamn. Reese would have a field day if she saw me.
“Do you have the original list?” she asks.
As I open the file, she inches closer, her chest brushing my shoulder. I want to bury my nose in her neck and drown in her.
“Why are you so helpful all of a sudden?”
I feel the exact moment she freezes, and fuck, I really need to stop putting my foot in it.
She pulls away, ducking her head. “If you don’t want it?—”
Spinning in my chair, I peer up at her, pleading. “I do.” I’d sell my right arm for a solution right now, but even if it doesn’t work, this is the nicest Emma’s ever been to me. I’m not about to mess that up.
“Charlie,” she sighs after several quiet seconds. “About the other day. I’m sorry for the things I said. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you, which wasn’t fair.”
Well, fuck me. I spent the weekend kicking myself for crossing the line, and here she is, beating me to an apology. Once again, nothing about Emma makes any goddamn sense.
“It was rude and unprofessional,” she continues. “And I’m genuinely sorry.”
Christ. If I never have to hear those words out of her mouth again, I’ll die happy.
“No.” I take a chance and place my hand on hers. “I was a jerk. I didn’t mean to—shit, I thought you were taking a shot at me, and then I wasn’t really thinking at all. If we’re gonna talk about being unprofessional, I think I got you beat.”
Emma ducks her head, hiding behind a curtain of blond hair, but not before I catch the blush on her cheeks.
“We don’t have to talk about that,” she says, her voice softer than I’ve ever heard it.
My worn, pessimistic heart aches. “I think we do.”
Her hand slips out from under mine. “Things got heated, and we got carried away. It’s…”
She looks around, lips pressed together, as if she’s searching for what to say, but I’m too focused on what she’s not saying. There’s no sorry, no screaming about how I took advantage. No, it’s we got carried away. Both of us. Together.
My chest tightens, remembering the sting of her teeth and the lash of her tongue and?—
“It’s fine,” she finally says. “It won’t happen again.”
My heart sinks. Damn. “Okay.”
She nods, and I immediately want to take it back. I also want to kiss her again, but I’m pretty sure I just lost my chance.
For eight years, I’ve busted my ass at this company. Around the six-year mark, I almost quit. I’ve never been good at standing still, and in a place like this, where they’ve crushed the hopes of people twice as smart as me? I didn’t want to go out that way.
But time disappeared in a blink. Now, they must know I’m getting the itch again, because this promotion is the first opportunity I’ve been offered to move out of Ops, and I need it, or else I’ll never get out.
I hate feeling stuck, but without a degree, it’ll only get harder if I leave. Landing a job here without one was a miracle. I’m not going to have the same luck twice.
Experience only goes so far, and I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
So when Roberts pulls me into his office because he wants to “check in on progress,” I’m immediately suspicious.
Of course, I’m proven right, but it’s so much worse than I expected.
“How would you say the project is going so far?”
Roberts might as well be a stock image. Ill-fitting button-down, black pants, and the same bulk-billed haircut as every other middle-aged man in a middle management position.
Needless to say, I don’t trust him.
“Great,” I say, lying through my teeth. Until I know what his angle is, I’m not giving him anything.
By the frown marring his face, that’s not what he wanted to hear.
“Because if there are any roadblocks, I want you to tell me. No matter how slight you think they might be.” He rests his elbows on his desk and clasps his hands. “You know, I’ve been looking forward to working with you. After last year, your name has been getting around. That’s good. That’s exactly what we need in Digital. Make sure you keep that proactive attitude; it’s going to get you far in this business.”
Does he have any idea how easy he is to read? He is everything I’ve heard people say about him behind his back. Opportunistic. Chauvinistic. Charmless.
Then he gets to the meat of the conversation, and, oh boy, is it juicy.
“To be honest with you, Charlie, if it were up to me, I’d give the lead job to you right now. Forget all this red tape.”
The fuck? A muscle in my jaw twitches when I clench it too hard. “So why the test?”
He smirks, and cold, hard realization slams into me.
This isn’t a test. It’s a game.
A check-in-the-box bullshit exercise masquerading as fair play.
But a real game—an honest one—has rules, and every opponent has an equal shot.
Not this one.
Because Emma never stood a chance.
I grip the armrests as pure, unadulterated fury burns in my veins. It takes all my energy to keep my face clear of it, to think before I act for once.
Roberts gives me a smarmy smile when he’s sure I’ve caught on. As if we’re in this together. Buddies, sharing an inside joke. “Don’t worry about that. It’s merely a formality. You’ve already impressed the lead team, and you can’t ask for a better reference than a personal shout-out by the COO.”
Fuck.
He continues, every word cutting into my skin, a hundred nails sealing my guilt in with heavy finality. “Emma is a fine worker, but she can be… difficult. This role demands a leader, and I see a lot of potential in you. I want you to think about your future here. When you’re the lead, I’m going to delegate some responsibilities to you that I’m already confident you can handle. Enough time with me, and you’ll be ready to take on my job when I move up.”
Not if. When.
“What will happen to Emma?”
“Nothing.” He leans back in his chair with a flippant shrug. “She’ll remain a senior, although I’ll suggest to Emmanuel that we rotate her into a different function. She doesn’t have any direct experience in a project team, not like you, so that’ll be a good start. And, of course, as the lead, you’re welcome to offer your feedback on her development.”
What the actual fuck?
He can’t be serious.
He is.
He’s fucking serious.
My stomach has practically fallen through the floor, yet Roberts takes my silence as agreement. He smiles and pats my shoulder, and it’s only years of practice that keep me from peeling his hand away.
“Emma doesn’t have the visibility you have. All the hard work in the world won’t get you half as far as getting your name in the minds of the right people, and that’s something Emma has continually failed to do.”
That damn briefing is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.
Decisions, meet consequences.
Of course that’s what this boils down to. I wanted to earn this role fair and square, not cut her from the running and kill her career in single hit.
I can’t decide whether I hate myself or Roberts more.
Fuck it, it’s me.
“I disagree,” I say, finally, pushing the words past the lump in my throat. “I don’t know many people who aren’t aware of Emma’s name.”
“But is it for the right reasons?”
Bullies are bad enough. Give a mean guy power and a target, and he’s dangerous. But the truly despicable ones attack in the shadows, where no one can see them.
I force my breaths to remain slow and even. “Her work stands for itself. Introducing digital signatures, rolling out a companywide system upgrade, and that’s just in the last two years.”
By the patronizing look on his face, it’s clear he won’t be convinced. “How long have you worked for us, Charlie?”
“Eight years and some change.”
“And in that time, you’ve garnered the respect of several important people. That’s not easy to do. Don’t waste it. It takes all types to make a business successful, and if you play this right, you can share in that success. This role is a big win, both for you and the company.”
For him, he means.
“The Emmas of the world are necessary, of course,” he goes on, waving a dismissive hand, “but that doesn’t make her the right choice. ’Kay, son?”
Life flashes before my eyes. Not mine. His. Because I’m about to end it. I hope he’s said his goodbyes.
There’s a pen on the desk in front of me. Fountain tip. Solid. Not the best weapon, but it’ll work in a pinch. Reluctantly, I drag my eyes away, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“Yes, sir.” Heard you loud and clear, asshole.
This is what Emma’s had to put up with for five years? I’ve seen some shit in my time, but to have to work for a man who actively hates you (and let’s face it, probably has some mommy issues) might rank right up there with “reserved for my worst enemy.”
If Reese were in Emma’s position, I’d be reevaluating my stance on workplace conflicts. And I’d be preparing a new résumé in my head because I’d be gearing up to give a speech that’d no doubt get me fired.
And really, it shouldn’t matter that it’s not my sister in the hot seat. No one should have to fucking work like this, even Emma. She may hate me, but she’s worked as hard as I have and shouldn’t be wasting her talents trying to please an asshole who’s actively working against her.
So fuck it.
I’m going to fix this. Somehow, I’m going to make it up to her.