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Lana gives me a strange look and her lips twitch. “Some distance will help the both of you.”
“Huh?”
“Use your legs, you idiot. Or send her an email like a normal person.” She gives me a narrow eyed look. “And watch that language or I’ll make your sister wash your mouth with soap.”
Since Lana and Kendall are so tight, I don’t doubt her. And my insane half-sister would spend a good few hours trying to do just that. I roll my eyes. “What did you want?”
She shrugs. “Just wanted to see how things are going between—I just dropped by to see if Halley was doing okay.”
Why are all the women acting so dodgy today?
After she leaves, I stare at the door, mentally willing Halley to walk through it, declaring that she hates her new desk and wants to come back to work on my lumpy, uncomfortable couch.
Fat fucking chance.
The day rolls by, slowly.
I’m half distracted by the thought of Halley in her brand-new self-image, her clothes defining her exquisite body as the men around her leer at her.
I’m stuck in an imaginary scenario where one of her colleagues puts his hand on her and she’s too afraid to remove it…I stand up, my chair falling back with a clatter, my face red.
As I march out, I try to tell myself it’s just to check up on her and whether she’s done with the data analysis.
However, when I reach the cubicle section, my eyes take in Halley smiling at a man who’s leaning on the wall of his cubicle with his arms and grinning at her.
I don’t know why I’m so angry but my feet are moving to her, and my voice is sharp, “If this is why you wanted your own desk, then it’s better that you move back to my office!”
Halley shoots me a startled look. “Jace—?”
“If you have time to flirt, I’m sure you have time to finish the analysis you were supposed to have gotten done an hour ago.”
Halley bares her teeth at me, a flash of annoyance in her eyes, along with embarrassment. “I sent it to you two hours ago, if you bothered to check your email, which you obviously didn’t since you’re standing here trying to humiliate me.”
When the guy standing in the next cubicle, who’s been trying to flirt with her, snorts, I shoot him a cold look. “You have something to say?”
He immediately sobers up. “No, sir,” before he slides back into his seat.
“If I didn’t respond to my email, then you come and get your next assignment,” I hiss at her.
She gives me a chilling look, which makes me want to shut my stupid mouth. But my own feelings are so conflicted when it comes to this girl that I choose not to obey the suggestion, as age old male instincts whisper my way and I cross my arms and glower at her.
Halley stands up suddenly.
I fight the urge not to flinch at the fierce anger in her eyes.
She says, “Come on, Jerry. Let’s go have lunch together.”
Jerry, who had just slunk into his seat at my cold look, perks up. Then as Halley brushes past me, he makes to follow her.
I grab him by his shoulder, whispering in a menacing voice, “You put one hand on her, and I’ll break every bone in that hand.”
He gives me a look that people reserve for the clinically insane before rushing after her.
But I see the way he’s so careful to stay one foot behind her, so as to not accidentally brush against her.
I grind my teeth.
It seems I have made a decision.
