My phone vibrates in my purse. I remove it and check the screen.
“Are you and lover boy still talking to each other?” Troy asks, sounding somewhat surprised.
With a cry of faked outrage, I press the phone to my chest, hiding the screen against my wet top. “Hey, why are you reading my personal texts?”
“I take it that’s a yes, then.”
I shrug. “He’s my friend.” Who I’ve talked to every night on the phone before going to bed.
Troy’s eyebrow quirks up. “Are you sure that’s all he is?”
I study Noah’s text. Anything to avoid eye contact with Troy. “Absolutely.”
“Why am I having a hard time believing that?”
Some more shrugging on my part.
“He’s in love with you, isn’t he?”
My gaze shoots up to his. “Why would you think that?”
“Because I had a feeling that he was. What about you? Do you love him?”
I fidget with the top and pull it away from my chest. “I’m here, so obviously not.”
That results in a grunt from Troy. “You do realize I’ve known you all your life? I can always tell when you’re lying.” Okay, he’s got me there. “Here, change out of your top and put this one on.” He shoves the shirt at me. “I’ll wait for you in the hallway.”
Once he’s left the room, I quickly re-read the text.
Noah:How is your first day at work going?
Me:Great so far.
Fortunately, this isn’t FaceTime or Skype, so he has no idea just how great my morning has been so far.
Me:Have my first team meeting soon. Talk to you later!
I miss you.
There’s no time to dwell on those three words. I remove the stained top, replace it with Troy’s shirt, and hurry out of the ladies’ room to join Troy, who is busy typing on his phone.
At the click of the door behind me, he glances up and a smile dances at the corners of his mouth. “Nice shirt.”
The shirt in question is several sizes too big for me in all directions.
Not quite the first impression I was hoping to make.
“I don’t suppose you have a narrow women’s belt in your desk drawer?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Sorry.” He doesn’t look too sorry. More like still amused.
He takes hold of my upper arm. “All right, you don’t want to be late for your first day on the job.”
By the time we step into the conference room a minute later, there are only three empty seats available. And none of them are next to each other.
I take the chair next to Evie Gladstone. Troy takes the seat across from me.
I’m about to introduce myself to Evie, but my uncle strides into the room, halting my plans. “Let’s get started,” he says before even taking a seat.
