Dean snorts, and my heart tries to make happy sounds. “And what time do you start?”
“I should be at the office for seven.”
Dean takes in a sharp breath, and sniffs. Late October is not the best time to go for a stroll at night. “You sure you have yourself a job over there and not some sort of prison sentence?”
“You’re hilarious, Dean. Really. I don’t know how I survived without you all these years. My poor little heart has been broken since the day you walked out of my life. The sun has ceased shining, the entire universe is ending because you have been far away from me!” I lament.
Dean’s quiet for a time, and then I realize what I’ve said.
Busted. The bitch of the year award goes right here! I’d like to thank my mother, for teaching me how to do it best…
“Glad you share the feeling,” he says quietly. The wind is exceptionally loud, and I’m acutely aware of my breath, here, alone in my apartment. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night from your place. Get home from work on time; I hate waiting around.”
No words of bye or undying love when he hangs up on me.
Motherfucker hung up on me.
I make a mental note to swear as much as possible tomorrow, just to get on his nerves.
***
Liam McCoy is staring down my blouse. The fucker isn’t even trying to be inconspicuous either - he wants me to know he’s looking down my blouse. Yeah, the girls are out there, and no matter what blouse I end up wearing and no matter how much tailoring I do the girls demand to be shown off, and there’s nothing much I can do about that. I make even the most modest of shirts seem slutty.
Fucking shit.
Liam’s hot and all, especially in that snake way that is both charming and revolting. He’s got nothing on Liam Hemsworth though, even though that kid might look less hot in a suit then the jerk standing in front of me. Liam’s got shit-brown eyes, and has the fucking audacity to cock an eyebrow at me after he’s done taking his fill of my amazing tits.
Dean wouldn’t do something like that. Dean would blush and stumble, and look away only to look helplessly back, then apologize not just for getting caught, but for doing it at all. He would have ten years ago, now, though, I’m not entirely sure.
The big bastard should be at my place at any minute, running late as I am - in what kind of vehicle? I have no idea. All I need is for him to pull up in a Fast and the Furious style Honda with neon lighting on the dash and die of embarrassment. Or worse, he’s probably geekified his car in ostentatious ways that’ll make me sit real low in the passenger seat.
“How about that drink, Katie? You keep telling me no, and I’m going to think you don’t like me after all,” Liam says, grinning at his own cleverness. Don’t make me puke, Liam.
“Can’t, McCoy. I’ve got a lot of work to do. I’ll see you tomorrow, though,” I say, pulling on my Burberry trench coat, and tightening the belt. The way Liam’s eyes light up at that has me wondering what kind of shit he’s into. Answer: never going to know ‘cause I ain’t going near that.
I grab my purse and head for the elevators with Liam behind me. I don’t know what makes men think that receiving flowers without permission to do so is going to make me spread my legs with a snap of his fingers.
Fuck that.
We wait in awkward silence while Liam devours my completely clothed body in what I’m sure he thinks is a sexy way. The elevator doors ding open and I walk in, taking my stance in the middle of the elevator car, blocking his way in. Liam walks backwards, palms up in a non-threatening gesture when all I really wanna do is kick him in the ‘nads for even trying to intimidate me.
I don’t wave goodbye when the doors close, but instead choose to look right through him like he doesn’t exist. Ignoring him seems to work better.
When I exit, I swipe my card to get into the lobby, then walk outside, tilting my head from right to left, cracking my neck. Ah, relief. I palm the nape of my neck and massage the sore muscles there, while using my other hand to fish in my purse for my keys.
“DiNovro!” Fucking Liam. I gave him the I-wanna-fuck-you look when I was ovulating last month, and he thinks it’s been game on ever since. Men.
I continue moving towards my car, getting my doors unlocked. Roxie beckons like a homing beacon and I move a little faster. There are only four cars in the lot, and mine is the most conspicuous. I love her with all my heart.
There’s a car next to mine that I don’t recognize by the license plate, but DesCorp is always hiring, and some newbie decided to take the spot next to mine. Whatever. If there are scratches on Roxie, though, there’s going to be hell to pay. At least it’s a Lexus and not some shitty Sentra or something.