Library

Round 9

S ince receiving my warning at work for being too distracting , I’d made an effort to blend in as much as possible. Yet whenever I turned around, Jeffrey Markham was there, his eyes searching for something to linger on. He paused behind me and peeked at my emails, made himself a cup of coffee when I went to the kitchen, and timed his lunch break to coincide with mine—all while staring at me with his beady eyes.

And he made a point of never doing it in front of anyone else. I started wondering if I was imagining it.

“Rose,” he said, pausing at my desk, “perhaps you could stay late and help me with the I&I report. I’d love to have your input.”

I cleared my throat, thankful my black blouse was buttoned to the top. I knew one thing for certain: I would not be staying late to work with him alone.

But I wasn’t sure how to say no either.

It was game night, and I had been looking forward to it for ages, but that wouldn’t quite cut it as a good enough reason to reject my boss. I&I was one of our biggest clients.

“I could take it home and finish it this evening,” I suggested.

“Many hands make light work.”

“Mr. Markham.” Shaun rounded the corner and turned into our shared cubicle.

Our boss straightened, taking a step back. “Mr. Ashdern.”

“Sorry to eavesdrop, but I, uh, heard you mentioning staying late.” Shaun widened his eyes in my direction for a split second before narrowing them. “I… uhm… I need to know because Rose promised Neema she’d help with the wedding arrangements tonight.” He turned to Markham and offered him a charming smile. “Maybe I could join you. Three heads are better than two?”

“Oh,” Mr. Markham said and tutted.

When I didn’t respond, Shaun continued, “Or I could help her finish it up at our place before we jump into the dresses and flower arrangements. We’ll have it done long before midnight. Right, Rose?”

I nodded and met Markham’s cold gaze. “Sounds great.”

When Shaun remained unmoving beside my desk, Mr. Markham lifted his chin and stalked off.

I slumped into my chair. Just get through the last of the day for game night.

Only once I walked into Shaun’s apartment did it hit me that it was the first time I’d seen William since we… I don’t know… whatever it was that happened when he was… nice. When he’d looked at me with eyes filled with light and playfulness and…

Did I imagine it all?

Perhaps in my spiral of rejection and shame, I saw something that wasn’t there.

I must have because he didn’t even turn around to greet me. Although that wasn’t unusual for him. He tutted at his screen, and I did what I’d usually do. I approached him, but with caution, as though he were a feral and unpredictable creature. After the last time we saw each other, it felt that way.

“Hey…” I said.

The eyebrow closest to me cocked upward as he glanced away from his screen and at my feet. “How’s the ankle?”

“Mostly better.” The overwhelming urge to address the unspoken lingered between us. “Thanks again for the other night. I owe you.”

His focus returned to his game, and the hand resting on his mouse flexed. “I look forward to you paying up.”

I leaned my hip against his desk, something I’d done plenty of times before but only to annoy him. That wasn’t the case anymore. Perhaps we were done playing dirty. Perhaps Shaun’s little game of Playing Nice could continue. “What are you playing? Is it for work?”

One arm zapped behind his head, and he dragged his fingers through his messy dark hair. “Kinda. I’m doing research for an idea I’m toying around with.” A sheepish grin spread across his face, and his cheeks pinkened. “Our talk the other night got me thinking about what I want and what I’d like to develop next.”

My mouth must have dropped open in excitement because a chuckle escaped him. If it was anywhere near as good as Walk of Death , it would have me glued to my screen for at least forty-eight hours.

“Tell me!” I demanded.

“Nope. Not yet. It needs to be perfect.” He rolled backward and swung his chair around to face me.

I grumbled. “If you let me play yours, I’ll let you play mine.”

A wicked expression covered his face.

I cleared my throat. “I have a board game.” My chest heated in the most pleasant way. It was weird acknowledging it out loud when I had spent so much of my mental capacity denying it.

William’s mouth dropped open, and his eyebrows popped up. “Your game? You’ll let me play it?”

His soft enthusiasm only increased the warmth spreading through me at the thought of someone playing my game. But I couldn’t ruminate about that. It was stupid and childish. Before he could say anything more, I interrupted him.

“Anyway, when your game is ready, say you’ll let me play it immediately? Please. I beg. I concede. You’d win all the rounds of Playing Nice for the foreseeable future and…”

William bit down on his lip, his dimple greeting me. “You’ll be the first to know.”

He held my gaze, his eyes searching mine. I had no idea what he was looking for or what he’d find. He opened his mouth again but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by Patrick’s voice at the front door. Like thunder. William spun around and resumed his game without another word.

“Hey, babe.” Patrick slipped an arm around my waist, which was out of character.

I leaned into it and wiggled, trying to get comfortable, but I couldn’t seem to find the right fit. Instead, I pulled him to the couch and turned to Shaun and Neema. “So, wedding arrangements. Did you really need my help?”

Shaun pressed his lips together. “No, but I sensed you needed mine.”

I huffed out a sharp breath.

Shaun clenched his jaw until his expression resembled his brother’s. “Rose and I need to knock out a report before we get started. It shouldn’t take too long. I started it at work already.” He opened his laptop and patted the seat beside him. “Markham wanted her to stay late… with him.”

I resisted a shudder at the mention of Markham’s name. “To meet a deadline. Which is normal, I think.” I scooched next to Shaun and read through his draft.

Shaun grumbled. “You should report him.”

“For wanting to work with his employee?”

“It’s the way he looks at you when he requests it.”

“He’s… It’s nothing…” I left the sentence hanging, unable to think about Markham for too long. I’d become so good at avoiding him at work that I managed to avoid him in my thoughts too. I tried shrugging it off, but my heart raced with discomfort. “He’s my boss. What am I supposed to do?”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” Neema said.

Patrick inhaled a breath through gritted teeth. “Has he touched you?”

I shook my head.

“Any weird texts or emails?”

I shook my head again and bit at my cuticle as my anxiety grew.

“So, he just… looks at you?” Patrick’s jaw relaxed. Before I could nod, he continued, “Well, babe, if I were you, I’d let it go. He hasn’t done anything wrong, has he? Not anything you can prove. You’ll look bad.”

I nodded. Perhaps Patrick was right… but my sinking stomach said otherwise.

William spun around, his right hand still clenched around his mouse and his face filled with harsh lines. “She’ll look bad? You’re worried she’ll look bad instead of worrying about her well-being or whether she’s comfortable or happy?”

Even in our heated rivalry, I’d never been on the receiving end of that heavy tone. I lifted my gaze to meet William’s. His eyes were as dark as the night.

“The industry is small. Building her career is part of her well-being.” Patrick side-eyed William for the briefest of seconds and then turned to me. “Use them to gain experience and then leave. It would be a different story if he’d actually done something. My dad knows him from golf. He’s married with two kids.”

A low sound came from the back of William’s throat, which, against my will, caused something inside me to flutter. And then his gaze met mine, hard and determined.

Whatever had fluttered inside me full-on started flying.

“If I were you, I’d—” He paused and blew out an angry breath before mumbling, “Pathetic.”

Beside me, Patrick stiffened, and his face turned a mottled purple. Placing a hand on his arm to mollify him, I sucked in a deep breath and ignored the way my entire body seemed to hum. I wasn’t sure whether William was talking about Mr. Markham or Patrick, and I was even more unsure about what was going on here as a strange tension settled between the two men. If I let it linger any longer, I’d suffocate under its weight.

“Like I said, it’s nothing. How about we get started?” I turned to Shaun and widened my eyes. “I’m sure we can finish this report later.”

Understanding my expression, he nodded. “Yeah. It’s almost done anyway.”

Neema must have picked up on the tension too because she jumped into action and started setting up Dungeons & Dragons, her favorite game. It was, by far, the thing about her that shocked people most.

Oh, you were a lingerie model? Makes sense.

You were the guitarist in a band? Totally believable.

You fell asleep in Turkey and woke up in Greece, and you have no idea how it happened? Still completely believable.

You play D&D? Wait, what?

But I knew her before she blossomed into this confident version of herself. Neema and I met at the board games club at college, which is also where we met Claire and Lincoln. Of all the things I learned at San Diego State University, D&D was the thing I least expected.

Since then, every time it was her turn to pick a game, she picked D&D—and she was always the Dungeon Master.

“William,” Neema said, tightening her cape, which my mother had helped her make, “you’re joining.”

“I’m not. I’m working.” He gestured to the thing he was shooting on his screen.

“Lincoln and Claire aren’t here, and Patrick won’t play.” Neema gestured to Patrick, who had taken a call on the balcony.

“Can’t we play something else? I got a new poker set.” William blew out a breath as he shut down his laptop.

“No, because you cheat,” I said, hating how he always managed to read my hand.

William met my gaze, albeit for a microsecond, before saying, “I never cheat. I like winning fair and square.”

Don’t read into that, Rose. You didn’t cheat on Patrick. Nothing happened. Nothing would ever happen. Besides, he didn’t mean anything by it.

This wasn’t a game I knew how to play. I swallowed, unable to find a proper comeback, and resorted to, “Then how?”

“A wizard never reveals his secrets.” William swiped the wizard figurine and offered us a wicked grin. There were still elements of his anger in the angles of his face, but with each minute that passed, the playful William I was accustomed to returned and urged the rival in me to join him.

Instead, I hopped up and met Patrick on the balcony. He ended the call and slipped a hand into his pocket. His green eyes were dull, and the bags underneath them darkened. It was clear he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Sexy Stacey really did a number on William,” Patrick whispered, glancing to the door. “He used to be difficult to be around but now he’s unbearable.”

“He’s not all bad.” The words escaped before I could stop them.

Patrick scoffed as he shot off a text. The distance between us was growing, and I feared I wouldn’t be able to cross it, even if I tried. But I had to try. “Do you wanna get out of here? I’ll skip game night for you.” I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him.

He sighed, and everything within me shrank.

“I’m exhausted, babe.”

“I know.” I swallowed around the hard, unmovable lump in my throat and kept my eyes fixed on the way the city bled into the ocean in the distance. I couldn’t turn around and face him because, if I did, I feared I’d see his lack of interest and the absence of yearning. The mere thought of it shredded the dwindling remains of my self-esteem. “You should get an early night.”

“But then you’ll be mad.” Patrick ran a hand over his face. “I don’t want you to be mad.”

I took a sharp inhale and blinked a few times before plastering on the smile my mother had taught me to wear. “I won’t be mad.”

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t.

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