They can barely stay away from each other.
It’s almost like they have a secret.
And Porter’s pink cheeks say it all.
Fuck.
Why do I care so much?
I met this guy less than two hours ago.
I don’t know him. He’s a stranger.
I need to get a life.
“I can try to find out more if you want me to. All I know is, they've worked together for a while. He and Porter are very close friends.”
“Yeah, I figured,” I answer quietly.
I’m such a fool for even entertaining the idea.
Who am I to feel disappointed that this handsome, stroppy man already has his eye on someone else? Of course he does. And I need to pull myself together and be professional. Vonnie has just done me the biggest favour. Really.
“Thanks, Von. I'm a little embarrassed.”
“Nonsense, darling. That's what I'm here for. Better you find out now rather than later.”
???
I know she’s right. Damn it.
Why are all the hot ones taken?
I saunter down the hallway and hide in the supply room, shaking off the unmistakable vibe I felt from him when I touched his collar earlier.
Maybe I confused attraction with hostile resentment.
I distract myself by shuffling boxes of ink from shelf to shelf, folding the towels into neat stacks.
A bag of dry cleaning has split open on the floor.
I hang the items one by one on the back of the door.
Shirt. Pants.
My favourite green tie.
Emerging from the room, I make my way back to the catering table with bold confidence.
Time to get these people out of my studio.
I long to go home so I can curl up on the bed with my new book.
After a quick sign off and a mandatory handshake, I’ll soon be done with this whirlwind of misguided limerence.
Vonnie returns with tenderness in her eyes.
I do my best to look away.
