Dating You / Hating You
Page 72
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Becca is there when I step off the elevator; a strange sense of nostalgia and hope fills my chest.
“Here’s your schedule,” she says, handing me a few slips of paper from her desk. I can barely read any of them, but pocket them happily. “There’s a phone call you’ll want to get on right away. One of Jamie Huang’s friends wants to talk to you, and Allie Brynn is about to have kittens in her excitement over it.”
“Awesome,” I say. “Is Evie here yet?”
“Conference room,” she says, looking up at me through narrowed eyes. “It’s so weird seeing you like this again, in your suit with that familiar, crazy caffeinated glaze to your eyes. It’s pretty great. Or maybe I’m just jazzed to be in an office with an In-N-Out down the street.”
I grin. “I am so fucking happy you’re here.”
“Same,” she says, glancing down to her desk before handing me a small stack of mail. “Now get to work.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
It’s quiet as I make my way to the conference room. The door’s ajar, and I poke my head in when I knock and wait for Evie to look up.
She’s sitting on a ledge that runs along the window, sun in her hair and a contract in her lap. She looks beautiful and confident and happy, and while I’d (probably) never engage in workplace PDA, there are only a handful of us here. We could revisit my earlier fantasy and make out on the table if we wanted, and only have to suffer Becca’s fake-horrified groan. I’ve heard conference tables are good for that sort of thing.
“Hey, you,” Evie says, and motions me inside.
I’d like to say I keep it cool, but I practically jog over, bending at the waist to press a warm, lingering kiss to her lips. “Hey.”
She runs her fingers down my chest and to my tie before looking up at me with a smirk.
“This tie works,” I insist.
“I have an important meeting with Paramount in an hour,” she says, smoothing it down again. “If it works as well as you say it does, you can wear your lucky tie every day and you won’t see me complain.”
“Maybe you can wear it later. And I’ll get lucky?”
She grins. “Maybe.”
I tap the pages in front of her. “You ready for this?”
“I have a kickass package and just need their yes. Hey, did you hear that Seamus hit a photographer outside LAX last night?”
My eyes go wide. “Like with a fist?”
“Like with his car. P&D can have fun with that one; he’s their problem now.”
“I think they have a long list of problems. I’m just glad not to be one of them anymore.”
She straightens my tie and lifts her chin. “Amen.”
“What do you think about going to New York with me this summer?” I ask her. “It’s miserable and hot, but it’s my parents’ anniversary, and I want my family to embarrass me in front of you. It might be awful.”
Evie tilts her head and studies me for a moment. “Maybe you could come to Burbank with me this weekend? The TV will be on too loud and my dad will hassle you about how much he hates the Yankees. My mom will probably tell you that you need a haircut. You’ll probably have a terrible time.”
Her eyes meet mine, and I don’t have to have known her a long time to know she’s never been this happy, or this secure.
“We’ll just have to make the worst of it,” I agree, smiling as I lean into her kiss.
“Here’s your schedule,” she says, handing me a few slips of paper from her desk. I can barely read any of them, but pocket them happily. “There’s a phone call you’ll want to get on right away. One of Jamie Huang’s friends wants to talk to you, and Allie Brynn is about to have kittens in her excitement over it.”
“Awesome,” I say. “Is Evie here yet?”
“Conference room,” she says, looking up at me through narrowed eyes. “It’s so weird seeing you like this again, in your suit with that familiar, crazy caffeinated glaze to your eyes. It’s pretty great. Or maybe I’m just jazzed to be in an office with an In-N-Out down the street.”
I grin. “I am so fucking happy you’re here.”
“Same,” she says, glancing down to her desk before handing me a small stack of mail. “Now get to work.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
It’s quiet as I make my way to the conference room. The door’s ajar, and I poke my head in when I knock and wait for Evie to look up.
She’s sitting on a ledge that runs along the window, sun in her hair and a contract in her lap. She looks beautiful and confident and happy, and while I’d (probably) never engage in workplace PDA, there are only a handful of us here. We could revisit my earlier fantasy and make out on the table if we wanted, and only have to suffer Becca’s fake-horrified groan. I’ve heard conference tables are good for that sort of thing.
“Hey, you,” Evie says, and motions me inside.
I’d like to say I keep it cool, but I practically jog over, bending at the waist to press a warm, lingering kiss to her lips. “Hey.”
She runs her fingers down my chest and to my tie before looking up at me with a smirk.
“This tie works,” I insist.
“I have an important meeting with Paramount in an hour,” she says, smoothing it down again. “If it works as well as you say it does, you can wear your lucky tie every day and you won’t see me complain.”
“Maybe you can wear it later. And I’ll get lucky?”
She grins. “Maybe.”
I tap the pages in front of her. “You ready for this?”
“I have a kickass package and just need their yes. Hey, did you hear that Seamus hit a photographer outside LAX last night?”
My eyes go wide. “Like with a fist?”
“Like with his car. P&D can have fun with that one; he’s their problem now.”
“I think they have a long list of problems. I’m just glad not to be one of them anymore.”
She straightens my tie and lifts her chin. “Amen.”
“What do you think about going to New York with me this summer?” I ask her. “It’s miserable and hot, but it’s my parents’ anniversary, and I want my family to embarrass me in front of you. It might be awful.”
Evie tilts her head and studies me for a moment. “Maybe you could come to Burbank with me this weekend? The TV will be on too loud and my dad will hassle you about how much he hates the Yankees. My mom will probably tell you that you need a haircut. You’ll probably have a terrible time.”
Her eyes meet mine, and I don’t have to have known her a long time to know she’s never been this happy, or this secure.
“We’ll just have to make the worst of it,” I agree, smiling as I lean into her kiss.
