"Me?" I shove her to the side and scramble to my feet. "Takes two to tango, Brooke. Aren't you big-city folk supposed to be sooo savvy? You're walkin' here and all that?"
"I—you! You made me forget my bag! Your asshole behavior got me—ugh!" She throws her hands up in the air and stabs a finger at the elevator button to recall the car.
"Sucks to suck, Brooky-poo." I grin. "See you tomorrow, bright and early!"
With that woman pissed off to hell and back but no longer in my personal space, I feel a bit lighter. I might grab a salad withfriedchicken on the side. Yeah, that sounds great. A perfect treat to pick myself up.
I don't want to know how much this apartment costs Atmosphere every month. Yes, it's a studio, but the combined kitchen/living/sleeping area justdripswith luxury. Italian marble counters gleam under the trendy Edison bulb pendant lights. Designer rugs cover the expertly polished hardwood flooring. And the bed is massive—ithasto be bigger than a king. I don't know what comes after a king, besides California king. If I recall correctly, California kings aren't necessarily bigger, just longer.
My belly is full of an exorbitantly expensive salad. The bougie restaurant I found didn't have fried chicken, but that's for the best. It would be silly of me to go whole hog on fried food. The only thing left for me to do today is take a steamy shower and snuggle into that massive bed. It really is over the top: I'm only one man. But sprawling out on expensive sheets? I'll never say no to that.
The bathroom is even more decadent. Floor-to-ceiling marbled tile (white with grey veins, of course) and shiny brass hardware give off an air of excellence that I'm sure Atmosphere is paying out the nose for. Steam fills the room as I turn on the water. The pressure is perfect, not too soft, not too hard. The mirror must have some kind of heating element as well because it stays perfectly clear. I huff out a weak chuckle as I quickly disrobe and step into the glass shower stall.
Stress melts away as the heated water pours over my body. I never forget my toiletries on a trip like this, butthe company has fully stocked the bathroom. The body wash is labeled "Jade and Pine." Not quite sure what jade smells like, but my skin practically drinks up the moisture. It's all so lovely, but an annoying little voice pops into the back of my mind.
Asshole behavior!
Why are you so allergic to saying you're sorry?
You stole my cupcake!
My shoulders tense, and a sigh rumbles out of my lungs. I really did want to get through this month with my professional dignity intact. I mean, I still do—what am I saying? Ugh, I can't believe Brooke has me all discombobulated like this. After all these years, she's still as fiery as I remember. God, I used to love that about her. But back then, I was never on the receiving end.
Her furious expression lingers in my mind as I slip into bed. I may smell fresh as a daisy—or as fresh as jade and pine, whatever—but I just feel… off. Brooke is the problem, not me. But if she wants to play dirty? I can, too.
Brooke
Mygrandmotherusedtotell me to be careful about my face.It'll stick like that, she'd say when I pulled a particularly foul expression. When I was a kid, I'd scoff and pull my eyelids down and stick out my tongue. Today, though, I think she might be right. I think the grimace I've worn since yesterday's confrontation might be permanent.
"Don't you look happy," Felicity mutters as I swoop into the office.
"Yeesh. Frown lines, Brooke. Unless you're springing for Botox?" Darrell asks as he leans around his monitor to give me a once-over.
"I'm fine. It's fine. We're fine. Don't you think we're all fine?" I try to force my lips to smile. Based on the reaction of my team, it doesn't work.
"Wow. No. You look like someone just told you you're banned from sushi for a year," Darrell giggles.
Jesus. I'm supposed to be shielding the team from corporate bullshit, not bringing it in the door and flaunting itabout. Usually, that's no problem, but with Dustin lurking around the corner? It's suddenly alotharder than it looks.
"Seriously guys, it's chill. It's cool. It's coolio, even."
"No," the whole team choruses together, and I grimly accept defeat.
"Fine. Does anyone want coffee? I need, like, a gallon. Maybe directly into my veins," I offer with hands outstretched.Thatgets their attention off my face. They all chatter together about the various mix-ins to their java and I even catch a few words about the current project: new modules for the ecommerce sector.
I quickly set down my bag and head to the kitchen, where we have a fancy coffee machine that brews individual packets. Travis, our CEO, claims this kind is better for the environment than the classic Keurig based on the paper baggies of pre-blended coffee and flavorings. I'm happy to believe that.
Though, with Atmosphere acquiring us, how long will all of these fun little perks last? Will they start slashing the budget the instant Dustin leaves—or sooner? He claims he doesn't have the authority to do so, but why would they send him if not for financial intel as well as tech stack investigation? Or maybe they'll send another guy after him. Someone nicer. Someone whose heart Ididn'tbreak a decade ago.
"Morning."
I freeze. I didn't hear Dustin come in, and I know he wasn't here when I started this little ritual. How is he so fucking sneaky? Warily, I turn to face him in the doorway.
"Good morning," I manage to grit out. "Did you have a nice evening?"
"Perfectly swell," he snarls. "I hope you didn't have any plans for tonight."
I don't, but I can't let him know that. "Unfortunately, I have a prior engagement. May I ask why?"
