“Oh—thank you,” she says, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress. Her cheeks turn pink, and for a moment, I can’t tell if it’s embarrassment because I’m standing here, or because shelikeshim. The thought makes something ugly twist in my gut.
“Are you going to Blox tonight?” he asks, smiling like he’s just discovered flirting. “Jamie, Natalie, and the others are heading down. I was hoping you’d come.”
“You were?” she says, brow furrowed, genuinely confused. God, she has no idea he’s hitting on her. I almost laugh. Almost.
He fidgets. “Well, I was hoping to buy you that drink I mentioned the other day.”
The other day? He’s asked her outbefore? How the hell did I not know about this? The thought of her out at some barwith these idiots makes my chest tighten. Maybe I should add ano dating your boss’s assistantclause to the next round of contracts.
“Oh, right. Erm… I hadn’t made any plans for after work. I might have paperwork to catch up on,” she says, gesturing vaguely toward me.
Finally, Thomas notices me. His eyes flick up, and his face drains of colour.
Good.
I hold his gaze a little too long — not saying a word, just letting the silence stretch until he mumbles something about “catching her later” and bolts for the door.
I should feel smug, but I don’t. Just tired. Heavy.
I force a breath, glance at Matilda. She’s still watching the door, probably confused. I could tell her she’s done for the day, that she doesn’t need to worry about work. I could even apologise for scaring the kid off.
But I don’t. I just nod, take my coffee, and walk out.
Because whatever this thing inside me is — this jealousy, this restlessness — it’s not something I can afford to feel. Not for her.
Twelve
Matilda
If the ground could have opened up and swallowed me in that break room, I’d have begged it to. How Thomas didn’t notice Henry standing behind me is beyond me. Six foot something, broad shoulders, presence like a stormcloud — he’s not exactly subtle. I swear I even heard himgruntat one point while Thomas was asking me out.
Thomas has been asking me for weeks now, and I’ve managed to wriggle out of it every time. But with Henry standing right there, my brain short-circuited. By the time I’d recovered, Henry had already left, and Thomas had thrown out a cheerful, “Maybe see you later,” before disappearing.
For the record, I’mpretty sureI said I couldn’t go.
I really shouldn’t care what Henry thinks of that conversation — but I do. The idea that he might think I’minterestedin Thomas makes my stomach twist. Thomas is the office ladies’ man — though, honestly, I think that’s more self-appointed than earned. He’s a chronic flirt, and a bad one atthat. I don’t want Henry thinking that’s my type… or worse, that I’d be unprofessional enough to date someone in the office.
Still, I need to let Thomas know I’m not going to Blox tonight. That much is certain.
When I return to my desk, Henry’s already back in his office. He looks… angry. Not the usual “client’s-a-moron” angry — this is sharper, quieter. His jaw’s tight, his focus fixed on his screen, though I can feel his attention flicker my way more than once.
He can’t possibly be annoyed withme. Even if Iwasinterested in Thomas, which I’m not, it’s not Henry’s business.
Before I can overthink it further, Henry gestures for me to come in through the glass. My stomach drops.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask from the doorway, using it as a shield between us.
“Mrs Wright emailed,” he says, voice even, clipped. “She copied you in. I’d like you to take the reins on the project — I’ll oversee. If you’re happy with that.”
For a second, I just blink. “Oh. I—of course, that would be great, but—”
Say thank you, Matilda. Justsay thank you.But my brain decides now’s the perfect time to spiral. An entire project is a huge deal. What if I mess it up? What if he regrets trusting me with something so big?
Henry’s expression softens — slightly. “Come in. Close the door.”
I obey, nerves fluttering.
He walks around his desk and leans against the edge right beside me, both hands braced against the wood. His height, his closeness, the way helooksat me — it all feels unnervingly intimate.
