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He slides me in between his sheets and spoons behind me. My cheek is pillowed on his bicep, and he kisses the side of my neck. I’m shivering.
“Sounds like a good plan. It’ll pay off. Desperately, huh? So, pray tell, what is the aim of the Starting Over Game?”
“The same as all the others. For you to love me.”
“Mine was to make you smile. How lame.”
“I laughed my ass off every day on the drive home from work, if it makes you feel any better.”
“I guess. But you’ve won. I’m going to have to know forever you’ve won all the games.” I’m sure my mouth probably has a sulky pout to it. He rolls me onto my stomach and begins to kiss up my spine.
“Do you trust me now that you know everything?”
For a moment we shimmer against each other; my skin trembling for the touch of his lips.
“Yes. And if you get the job, I will be happy for you.”
“I already resigned. My last day was Friday. Jeanette came in and did the paperwork. I’m on vacation now.”
“What the fuck?” I blurt into his bed.
“I don’t want anything that means I can’t have you. There’s nothing worth it.”
“But I didn’t have a chance to compete against you.” I don’t know whether to laugh or scream.
“You still have to do your interview against the other candidates. From what I’ve heard, one of them is a real contender. The independent panel might decide you’re completely incompetent.”
I elbow him and he laughs.
“But you’ll always know you could have gotten it. When we fight I’ll be worried you’ll bring it up.”
“I’ve worked out a solution. Something so Machiavellian even you will deem it a perfect solution. It retains all of the competitive bullshit we thrive on.”
“I’m scared to ask.”
“I’m the new divisional finance head of Sanderson Print. B and G’s most bitter rival.”
“Josh. What? No.”
“I know! I’m an evil mastermind!” He drops a kiss to my nape and I squirm away and roll over.
“How on earth did you manage that?” I feel faint.
“They’ve been pestering me for ages about coming over for a chat. So I did, and I told them I wanted to work on their completely fucked-up financial situation before they completely fold. They said okay. No one was more surprised than me, but I hid it well.”
“Is that why you took a day off?”
“Yeah. And I needed to buy you a Matchbox car. They took forever to give me my formal offer. That’s why I never needed help to beat you. I didn’t want to beat you.”
I smooth my hand over his shoulder, the glorious curve of his arm. “So that’s that.”
“I had to make a few conflict of interest statements.”
“Such as?” I watch his eyes crinkle in memory.
“I disclosed that I’ll be in love with the soon-to-be chief operating officer of B and G.”
I can just imagine him telling them, cool and calm.
