Page 35 of Tempting Fate

Chapter Sixteen

Jamie

Monday starts off well. I duck out for my interview—citing an appointment my boss doesn’t even bat an eye at—and do it online in a little café about fifteen minutes from the office. It all goes swimmingly. It’s another executive assistant position, but this time to the CEO of Hartford Industries, Gideon Hartford.

He seems pleasant enough. Younger than I expected, but then he explained that his father passed a few years ago, and he’s taken the reins, and that means he’s just caught on that he needs someone to help out. He’s got a quick smile, and the kind of posh accent that reminds me of Em, so I don’t really mind it.

I’m feeling optimistic by the time I get home, but then I realise Em and Patch have been on their date—are on their date?—and my mood plummets. Nick spends most of the evening out with his friends, and I go to bed early, not catching sight of Em at all.

Tuesday goes much the same way. Em isn’t around before I leave for work, and I don’t see him after. Don’t hear him, either. Maybe he went back to Patch’s house. Maybe they spent all day in bed and neither of them thought about me at all.

And then Wednesday… I wake late. I rush out and have to change my tie once I get to the office because it’s all wrinkled and I fucked up this week, double-booked my boss, but he doesn’t even get irritated like he would usually; he just gives me that sad, sympathetic expression he’s been giving me for months.

“Don’t worry about it, Jamie. I’ll rearrange it myself.”

I take myself for a break at eleven, heading up for the roof. It’s cold, and I’ve left my suit jacket on the back of my chair, but the wind wakes me up a little.

Maybe it would be time to move on regardless of what had happened to me in the past year. I’ve not been living with Nick all that long in the grand scheme of things, but I’ve lived in London my whole life. I’ve been in this job for seven years.

I sigh and look out across the city—or as much of it as I can see. It’s home. And maybe I’m getting bored with that. Outgrowing it.

I hope Em is there when I get home. If I talk to Nick about all this, he’ll brush a lot of it off. Or he’ll take it seriously and make it a big deal. Wanting to get a new job, move to a new place… It’s a big change, but not a big deal. Em will get that, won’t he? He’s just done the same thing, after all.

Maybe he’ll be too caught up in Patch to listen. Can’t blame him for that. I shove my hands into my trouser pockets, shivering a little, and try to be honest with myself when I pose the next question: Am I jealous of Em?

Fuck, am I jealous of Patch?

It doesn’t feel quite like that. I’ve been jealous before. Who hasn’t? Tim used to go out of his way to try to make me feel it, in the beginning, when I was so into him and hadn’t quite worked out the kind of person he was. Is. Whatever.

No, it’s not jealousy. It’s just… I feel left out. Like I’m supposed to be there with them. Both of them.

I shake my head and make my way back down to the office. My mind feels a little clearer and for the next couple of hours, I’m on top of everything, even getting a few of next week’s tasks lined up so I can knock them out by the end of the day.

My boss heads out for lunch at one, and it’s only when I’m standing in front of the fridge in the little kitchen on our floor that I realise I didn’t bring any food of my own.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

Hannah, a woman from the HR department, makes a sympathetic sound from over by the kettle. “Forget lunch?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t matter. I’ll just have to pick something up.”

It’s annoying, though. I made extra rice and everything last night, really put some effort in because I knew a good lunch would boost my mood. I even took it out of the fridge this morning, which means I won’t be able to eat it for dinner if it’s been sitting out all day. And sure, there are nice things to buy around here, but I’m still disappointed I forgot, and it means I’m going to be out even more money.

I slip my jacket on and make my way over to the lift with a scowl. Fuck, I hope I get that job. I’m going to need it.

People get on at different floors and I’m so in my own head when we spill out into the lobby that I don’t even see him at first. I startle when someone grabs my arm, heart skipping a beat when I look up into Em’s face.

“Em? Jesus, what are you doing here?”

He smiles, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He’s holding a tote bag in that hand, which almost hits him in the chest as he does it. Fuck, he’s adorable, and he looks a little sleepy, and he’s here…

A couple of people almost walk into us, so I drag him out of the way and over to the sofa he’s probably been waiting on. “How long have you been here?”

He shrugs. “Only fifteen minutes or so. I wasn’t sure when you’d go to lunch. I tried texting you, but your phone was off, and then I asked them to call up for you, but I couldn’t give them a floor and”—he blushes—“I couldn’t remember your surname, either. Sorry.”

“But why—I don’t get why you’re here?”

“Oh!” Em brandishes the tote bag at me. “Your lunch. I found it on the side when I got up this morning. Figured you’d want it, and since you weren’t answering your phone, I thought I’d bring it over. Nick told me where you work. I guess I could have asked him about your name, but by then I was already here, so—”