Undersold(11)

“Boss has nothing to do with it, that guy wants your sweet, sweet bod. Speaking of which, any hot men in your life right now?” Darcy was perpetually nosy when it came to my love life, even when that love life didn’t exist.

I wanted to tell her about my texts with Shane, about figuring out who he was during the meeting earlier today, and about his weird admission at the end of our conversation at the bar, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I would leave out the bits about the sexy pictures and any details about the dirty messages, of course, but I wanted to describe his body, the way he looked at me, and the way it made me feel. But a large part of me knew that it wouldn’t be something he’d want. If he was as private as he said, and I thought he really meant it, then I shouldn’t tell anyone about what happened between us. Instead, I just shook my head. It was hard not to tell her, but I reassured myself with the thought that I’d fill her in when I could.

“Nope, nothing special really.”

“Seems like a shame to waste your youth working.” Darcy finished her drink, ever the party girl. She was smart and beautiful, but driven in different ways.

“Not all of us an live the glamorous New York lifestyle, Darc.”

“That’s so true, kiddo.” She laughed, and I felt like we were back in school.

I smiled. “Let’s clean up.”

Darc and I were like sisters in college. We were lucky enough to live together in the dorms our Freshman year, and we never looked back after that. In fact, the year I moved to Philadelphia was my first year living without her, and in a lot of ways my life felt emptier because of it. She always brought lightness and joy to everything she did, and it was something I desperately missed. Frankly, she knew how to party and to have a good time, but she wasn’t irresponsible. I had a tendency to overwork myself, to push myself to achieve my goals, and Darcy was good at evening me out. I was always more comfortable with my laptop alone in my room than I was with big parties.

Just like she helped me loosen up, I think I helped keep her a little grounded, although she wouldn’t admit to that. I was jealous of her in a lot of ways, her long blonde hair, her thin waist, her green eyes. Boys died to be with Darcy, and I was always in her shadow, but I didn’t resent her for it. The pale brunette doesn’t always draw crowds, in my experience. It wasn’t her fault she won the genetic lottery and I was stuck looking as average as they come. I made up for all my faults in other ways, like an insane work ethic, or at least I tried.

The two of us stood and started straightening the place up. I thought about my phone and how quiet it had been all night, and of Shane out there somewhere in his comfortable home, maybe flirting with a new girl through the dating app. I felt a pang of jealousy, though I had no right to be jealous. He didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with me beyond a professional relationship, but I still couldn’t help but think about what we said to each other, and about that last comment before he left the bar.

I still had his pictured saved, and I hoped he kept mine. I knew I should want him to delete it, but it still made me feel good to imagine him looking at it, maybe slipping his hand down his underwear, over his sculpted abs, to grasp his thick cock. I shook my head to get the image out of my mind.

I wondered what he’d be like when I was in the office full time. I was terrified things would be awkward. Worse, I was afraid he’d fire me. If he was as private as he said, then getting rid of me made sense.

Before I could fall too deep into my anxious daydreams, Darcy proposed shots, and I couldn’t say no to her. We drank to my success, but secretly I drank to a future where Shane Green would send me a text.





9.


A week later, I was settling into the office. I had already made my first friend named Linda, and that helped ease my transition a lot. She sat next to me, and her bubbly personality and no-nonsense work attitude made her the kind of person I wanted to be around. She was in turn silly and serious, always making jokes but working long hours. I turned away from my screen as Linda’s head popped around our partition’s wall.

“Did you hear about Mr. Green?” she asked me.

I still hadn’t run into him. We were supposed to be working closely on the app, but I hadn’t even caught a glimpse of him in the week I had been working.

It wasn’t like I was hanging around the lobby in hopes that he’d walk by, because I wasn’t. Maybe I walked a little slower through the common areas, lingered a little bit longer than I needed to in the kitchen, and took my time when strolling through the halls near his office. But who could blame me?