“Agreed,” I nodded, typing even faster.
His phone buzzed, and he started texting, waiting for me to finish.
“Who’s that?” I teased. “Your other yoga instructor?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” It buzzed in again, and he slipped it back in his pocket. “Hey, so let me ask you a question. You live and breathe for this stuff, right?”
I glanced up for a second, cautious with his new, serious tone. “Yeah...why?”
He shrugged casually. “Just wondering. So that doesn’t leave much time then for relationships, yeah?”
I sat up straighter. “Michael—”
He held up his hands. “I’m just asking, I swear.”
I eased the computer onto his lap and took a sip of tea as I considered the question. The answer was simple: No. No, it didn’t leave any time for them. But that was to be expected, right? You could only have one or the other—career or relationship. You couldn’t have both.
“I guess not,” I finally admitted. “I mean, I dated a couple of guys casually throughout college and in business school... But since I started my internship, I’ve just been really focused on the work side of things, you know?”
He kept his eyes on the screen as he typed, but I could tell he was listening carefully. “Is it a rule of yours? Or just a convenience?”
“A convenience. I mean, I’d like to think that if I met the right guy, I could manage to keep it together—but my head’s not really in a good place for that right now.”
He nodded pensively. “And what would be the right kind of guy?”
I grinned and peeked at the screen. “Are you signing me up for a dating website or something?”
He chuckled. “I’m just curious. You come across as really standoffish, but ten minutes later, there are you dumping my shoes in the tub. I’m just trying to figure you out.”
“Well how about a little less trying and a little more typing, eh?”
He grinned. “Yes ma’am. I’d actually say that we’re about finished with this section.”
“Awesome,” I muttered as he placed the computer back on the table. “That only leaves about hundred more and then we’re done.”
“Hey, you can’t be the negative one about work,” he chided. “That leaves absolutely no room for my side of the dynamic.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” I took another sip of tea and leaned back against the cushions. “You know, I could really get used to this setup. You type—I drink and recline. Maybe I should get a penthouse of my own.”
The corners of his lips twitched as he glanced at the clock and saved the document. “The building across the street is renting out their top floor...”
I laughed. “Perfect. I can totally afford that. I’ll just get like, fifty roommates.”
He laughed as well, but there was a different edge to it. He looked almost...nervous. I was about to ask what was going on when the elevator dinged, and he leaned back with a sigh.
“Time’s up,” he muttered.
My head spun around to look. “What? Who’s that?”
“Hey—”
There was a shifting on the couch, and when I looked back, he was suddenly close. Very close. Too close. Just an inch or so away. I stared up into his handsome face in shock, and he gave me a small smile.
“Don’t hate me for this, okay?”
Then he kissed me.
Chapter 6
“What the hell is going on?!”
Surprisingly, it wasn’t me who spoke. Or even Michael. We turned around to see Thomas Larchwood framed in the elevator, staring at us in shock.
The next second I was on my feet.
“Jenna—”
There was a slap. I heard it before I even saw it happening, before I even realized that it was me. Michael jerked back, clutching his face, but he didn’t seem surprised. In fact, he rather seemed to expect it. I figured he couldn’t live the life he did without getting his fair share.
“I’m just—it’s fine,” I blurted, rushing clumsily around as I grabbed handfuls of papers from the coffee table and crammed them into my overflowing briefcase. I didn’t know why I was censoring myself. I certainly didn’t want to. Shoes in the bathtub weren’t the worst things I could do, and Michael certainly had it coming.