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Needing to diffuse the situation and take advantage of Sterling being off balance, I take his shoulder and guide him toward the door. “I’m sorry, but I’m terribly busy. I’ll call you later. Bye!” With that, I close the door behind me and press my back to it as if holding him out.
Clifton and I lock gazes.
“He seems nice,” Clifton says, and I can’t hold back a laugh.
Chapter Eleven
Clifton
I can't believe the nerve of her boyfriend.
The guy has a name like Sterling and somehow thinks he's God's gift to women.
He just barged right into our office, acting like he owned the place, and started talking down to Emma like she's some kind of child that just doesn't understand how relationships work. Of course, he's the one that sounds like he has no idea how anything works.
Something about his behavior makes me feel like he's trying to control her. There was nothing in him that showed any kind of concern for her feelings, her work, or her dreams. He only cared about himself and how she could serve him in some way shape or form. He's selfish.
And if all of that weren't enough, he had the nerve to say that he forgives her for being upset. As if she needs his permission to have emotions and share them. That's not something a supportive partner says to their significant other.
All in all, I kind of just want to punch his lights out; I'm glad she ushered him out of the office so quickly. The last thing I need are more charges for another fight, but smashing my fist into his face would be very satisfying after everything he’d said and done.
Emma leans in her chair, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling. I can tell she's lost in her own thoughts, just like I am.
I want to tell her that I'm proud of her for not letting him get away with his bullshit. I love that she called him out on his insecurity and jealousy. But I don't know how to say the words without sounding patronizing or condescending.
Let her sassy words continue to echo round and round my mind tonight internally. Warn myself never to make her mad at me.
I hope she knows that she doesn't need a guy like him to drag her down and that she deserves so much better. She deserves someone who respects her, listens to her and loves her for who she is.
I swivel my chair to face my desk again. Of course, I don't say any of the words on my mind. I don't want to make anything awkward or complicated between us. I don't want to ruin our friendship or our work partnership. We work well together, we have fun together, we trust each other; we’re a team and I don't want to muck things up when they’re going so well for both of us.
But my brain isn't about to let me not say something. “You should dump him.” The words come out very matter of fact, with no judgment or emotion attached to them.
She glances at me with a mix of surprise and amusement. I have no doubt that she knows I'm serious and also that I'm trying to lighten the mood.
She smiles and says, “My love life is none of your business.” Her saccharine tone makes me smile.
Well, if that's how she wants to play things. “That was your love life? How incredibly sad, if Sterling is the best example of what you're working with.”
Her eyebrows lift. “When did I say he was the best example?”
I shrug my shoulders, thrilled that she cornered herself. “Well, to date, he's the only example.”
Her grin widens. “You can hate on Sterling all you want, but I don't think I've ever seen you with anyone.”
She doesn't want to know how much I hate Sterling. But she's not wrong; she's never seen me on a date because I'm single. I've been single since my ex cheated on me, but she doesn't know that, and I’m not about to put that weight on her shoulders when she’s trying to be playful. I’d rather keep the fun rivalry going. “I'd rather be single than with the wrong person... or a jerk.” Let her decide if I think he's one or both of those options.
“Are you implying that Sterling is not the man of my dreams, and potentially that he's a jerk?” I love that she fires right back at me, her eyes sparkling with humor.
“Is that what you inferred from my statement?” If she wants to ask questions, I can keep this going indefinitely. Growing up in my father’s house taught me to deflect, sidestep, and match my opponent before going in for the kill. Verbally, of course.
“Can you just answer the question?” she asks, swiveling her chair in a half-circle to face me.
“I don't know. Can you ask me what you want to know directly?” A more interesting question is, does she care what I think about her boyfriend? Does my opinion matter when it comes to her love life? Of course, she had said that her love life is none of my business, but that playful barrier came down pretty quickly.
She lets out a sigh, rolling her eyes heavenward, as if not sure how to deal with me. “Fine, I'll bite. What do you really think of Sterling?”
Does she think I haven't already given her my honest opinion? Despite her bored tone, I can't help but feel that she is waiting for my response.
