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The room remains silent throughout the rest of the meeting, but my anger doesn’t budge. I see why Nora wants this promotion so badly. There’s a huge need for change here, and an even bigger need for the kind of leadership that could enact that kind of change.
Nora would be great at that. She’s smart. An excellent listener. Hard worker. She’s conscientious, kind, firm when she needs to be. People on the floor like her, and now that I’m beginning to understand what a tightrope walk being “likable” is for women, that’s no small achievement.
I have my own reasons for wanting a promotion. But Nora’s are better.
I catch up with Keira as everyone’s filing out of the meeting.
“I’m sorry about that,” I blurt, because I don’t know what else to say.
She turns her head to look at me. “About what?”
“Interrupting you. Having to speak up because no one was listening to you even though they should have been. For not noticing shit like this before. I’m sorry, Keira.”
Her eyes go wide. “Okay?”
“Was I wrong to step in?”
She thinks on this for a minute. Her steps slow. “I appreciate what you did, actually. Not everyone might feel the same, but sticking your neck out like that . . . every little bit helps.”
“I mean, I just kinda growled at people, which is what I usually do anyway.”
“So I hear,” she says with a grin.
Ah. Of course she’s friends with Nora. At some point, I hope Nora fills her in on my good qualities too.
Brooks, meanwhile, is staring at me like I just pulled down my pants, popped a squat, and shat on the carpet right here in the hallway.
“Who are you,” he asks gravely, “and what have you done with the asshole known as Theo Morgan?”
“I’m still an asshole,” I reply. “But only to the people who deserve it. Like you.”
Smiling, he puts a hand on his chest. “I’m honored.”
My eyes go right to Nora as we head back to the desk. I am trying very hard to keep the eye-fucking to a minimum, but I can’t stop looking at her. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to stop looking at her, not since our first meeting when I pretty much called her a snob and she pretty much called me a douche. Which I deserved, by the way. Especially after that line about all being fair in love and war.
It’s not fair. I see that now.
I also see how Nora’s looking for me too. She glances up from her screen, scanning the people who pass by her desk. Her gaze comes to a sudden stop when it lands on me, and I don’t miss the way her eyes glitter and her mouth curves into a tiny, secret smile.
It’s too soon. I get it. But fuck me, I’m already tired of keeping this secret. I want to make it official with Nora. I want people to know about us so I don’t have to force myself to look away and pretend to be interested in bonds when really I want to smile back and tell her what a great fucking manager she’d be. Also that she looks so pretty today I sometimes can’t breathe when she passes by my desk.
To distract myself, I look toward Aiden’s office. The scumbag is nowhere to be found. Interesting. He showed up late today, something he’s never done as long as I’ve been at A&T. Also interesting.
Now that I know the truth about the guy—what kind of man he really is beneath the chipper British “gentleman” exterior—I want to kick him in the bollocks. But he’s still my boss. Nora’s too. How typical of Wall Street that a man like him would be in charge of our futures.
I worry what he’ll do when he finds out about us. He likes to play games with people, and when it’s obvious Nora’s no longer interested in playing too—she certainly didn’t look interested when I saw them walking together earlier—I imagine he isn’t going to take it well.
I stand to lose everything I’ve worked my whole life for. But I still smile when I think about the look on Aiden’s face when Nora tells him to fuck off.
When I think about the look on her face when I fuck her tonight better than Aiden ever did.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Nora
The week goes by in a blur.
Early morning orgasms. Work. Lunches left for me in the copy room. A great call with Brian from BamCo that leads to getting our first trade done together since the whole FedEx debacle. An afternoon quickie in the backseat of Theo’s Jeep in the parking garage, his hand clamped over my mouth, my fingernails dug into his back. More work.
A Bridgerton rewatch. A whole lot of shake and bake. Falling asleep with Theo’s naked body wrapped around mine, feeling safe and warm and sated. Waking up with soft, slow morning sex.
