I let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, we won’t be working together.”
He sighs, and I can practically see him rolling his eyes. “I get that this isn’t ideal. Trust me, this was not in my original plans. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Natasha isn’t going to keep you on if I ask her not to.” I try to infuse the words with more confidence than I feel. I like to think Natasha puts her employees first, but at the end of the day, this is a business, and if the order to train Seth came from the higher-ups—the brand-new higher-ups—I doubt there’s any getting around it. Not that I plan to tell him that.
“Yeah, well, that’s not really up to Natasha.”
I swivel my head, finally turning to look at him. Andforcing myself not to react when I see he is staring right at me, his bright-blue eyes cocky and triumphant like he’s still the teenage boy who always got exactly what he desired. I want to look him over from head to toe, sneer at the uniform of sneakers, baggy jeans, and a T-shirt he’s been sporting since high school. But now that we’ve made eye contact, I know I can’t be the first one to break it.
I used to be able to read those eyes like the hundreds of books cluttering my shelves, but now I don’t know what emotions they’re hiding. I try to drop a shroud over my own, closing him off from any hint of what’s spinning through my brain. Though I’m sure the disdain is clear on my face.
Just as my unblinking eyes start to dry out, Natasha strides into the office, closing the door firmly behind her. I can practically hear the collective groan from the rest of the group, who I know were hovering just outside, hoping to eavesdrop.
Natasha sits in her enormous white leather chair, lacing her fingers together and placing them on top of her Lucite desk.
I sit up straight, my eyes flickering away from Seth and landing on her. I see him mirror my movements out of the corner of my eye. Suck-up.
Natasha looks back and forth between us, not saying a word as she completes some kind of internal assessment. Finally, she clears her throat and turns her attention toward Seth. “Lana tells me the two of you have known each other a long time.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Seth puts on his best charm-the-grown-ups voice.
Her lips pucker just a tad—Natasha hates being calledma’am—but she doesn’t correct him. “All right then. Let’s just get to it, shall we?” She doesn’t wait for a response, and she has a familiar tone in her voice, one that means no one is going to like what happens next. “Seth, you’ve been foisted off on me as some kind of test run before you move on to theChronicle, correct?”
He nods, staying silent and not repeating hisma’ammistake. He always was perceptive.
“Lana, you’ve been waiting for your chance to break away from the dating and relationships beat, correct?”
“Yes.” I clench my hands together in my lap, not wanting either of them to see how tightly I’ve crossed my fingers, waiting for some smidgen of hope. Any hint that a golden opportunity is about to come my way.
“AndIneed to prove that this site can continue to bring in clicks, and, most important, ad dollars, under this new ownership.” She leans forward and there’s a glint of something just short of devious in her eyes. “So here’s what we’re going to do: a little friendly competition.”
I shoot Seth a look for the first time since our staring contest was interrupted. He glances my way, a question in his eyes, but I don’t pretend we can still wordlessly communicate, turning my attention back to Natasha.
“What kind of competition?” I don’t bother attempting any enthusiasm.
A wide smile spreads across her face, and honestly I’m impressed her cheeks are that mobile given the Botox she got last week. “A dating competition.”
“Absolutely not,” Seth says, almost immediately.
“Oh hell no,” I say.
This time I glare at him, because he should be so lucky.
“Relax. You’re not going to date each other.”
A slight sigh of relief escapes me, but I know enough to remain tense.
Seth raises his hand slightly, as if he needs permission to ask a question. Which, technically, as the newbie, he does.
Natasha ignores him. “Lana, you’re a serial monogamist. Seth, you’re a serial dater.”
Seth sputters in indignation. “Excuse me? You just met me five minutes ago, how do you know anything about my dating life?”
She shoots him a dagger-sharp glare. “Am I wrong?”
His mouth opens and closes a few times, but Seth was never a good liar. “Well... no.”
“Okay, good. Think about the potential here. You’re two exes, high school sweethearts, and after your tragic breakup—”
