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My pulse was thundering, pumping adrenaline through my veins. I could barely breathe as my brain slowly registered the words that had burst out of the box. I was so—
“What the fuck.”
I started, my heart jumping straight into my throat. The explosion had been so loud and distracting that I hadn’t heard the door open.
There was a man standing there, blinking at my glitter-covered self and the three large words that had popped out of the box in bold, golden letters:
FUCK YOU ADRIEN.
3
Adrien Cloutier was standingin the doorway of his office, his dark eyes fixed on my bedazzled crime scene. He’d caught me red-handed. (Literally. My hands were literally covered in bright red glitter.)
And because I was still frozen in place, I had the pleasure of watching his expression morph from confusion to irritation, and then to pure, unadulterated fury.
The man was fucking livid.
This was probably not going to be fun. I was ninety-nine percent sure of it.
“What. Thefuck,” he repeated, stepping inside. The words came out short and sort of… growly. Like he had a bunch of loose gravel churning in his throat.
He jerked his wrist and the door banged shut behind him.
“Is this your idea of a fucking joke?” Adrien barked, taking a whole bunch of angry stomps forward. He halted before he got to the glitter-covered portion of the floor, the rage rolling off him in such palpable waves that I swear I would have been able to taste it if my tongue wasn’t coated in shimmering flecks of regret.
He looks different in person.
I wasn’t sure why that was the first thought that sprinted through my head when Adrien’s sharp gaze clashed with mine, but it was.
To be fair, I’d never actually seen him up close before. Not in real life at least. I’d seen a bunch of pictures of the guy online (and entirely against my will) and had caught quick glimpses of him around the building and at random work parties, but never up close. And on Friday, I’d been too drunk and too concentrated on exacting my revenge on the pervy creep that had slapped my bum to pay attention to his face.
So, yeah, all that to say: I didn’t realize his eyes were green.
Stupid, right? I was covered head to toe in crimson glitter, I’d ruinedthe guy’s office just two days after hitting him in the dick with a cane for a crime he may or may not have committed, and all I could think about was how dark and ominously green his eyes were.
They made me think of the rainforest at night. Same color and petrifying vibe. It was the only reason my brain stalled the way it did.
“Miss Sanchez.” He said my name like it rhymed with every expletive in the English language. “I asked you a question.”
Right. Yes. He’d asked me if this was my idea of a joke.
“Um, no,” I said. It wasn’t until my tongue moved that I realized just how much glitter had actually gotten into my mouth. It was grainy and dry and… really unpleasant. “I mean, someone clearly thought it would be funny. But it wasn’t me.”
I started to dust my hands and shirt off while Adrien eyed me. He didn’t seem to believe me but that was fair. I probably wouldn’t have either.
“I’m Ria, by the way,” I said, holding out a shimmering hand.
My attempts at dusting off the sticky little flecks had been futile. Whoever had planned this reallyhated him. He was going to be finding random specks of red glitter in his office for the next decade. It was going to be sticking to his expensive suits and people were going to be pointing it out to him in the middle of important meetings, making stupid jokes about strippers and stuff.
I was trying my best not to laugh. Because maybe I’d lied—maybe this was a teeny, tiny bit hilarious.
“I know who you are,” he ground out, ignoring my outstretched hand.
“Excellent.” I nodded, spreading my lips into a small, polite smile. “And you are…”
I know I’d promised Alba I’d try to behave, but holy mother of overinflated egos, was his reaction worth it. I’d never seen someone’s entire face twitch before.
I deserved an Oscar for managing to maintain eye contactanda straight face.
