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Out with the old, I guess.
“I can’t believe you ruined this,” I mutter before pulling my blouse over my bare breasts.
“Listen… Michaels.” He looks me over as I hop off the bed and pull my skirt up my legs. Surprisingly, he looks away. “I’d appreciate if we could keep this between us.”
I look at him for a beat, wondering how he could possibly think I’d want to reveal to anyone that I sold my soul to the devil for a few good orgasms.
Okay, great orgasms. Spectacular even. Orgasms so good at one point I could have sworn I saw God.
“I wasn’t planning to, but why don’t you want people to know?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “What are you embarrassed of me or something? Because I’m way out ofyourleague,” I sneer. I’m hungover and the awkwardness of my current situation is making me feel a little petty.
He snorts and gets up without another glance. “Right, Michaels. I’m sorry, didn’tyoujust get dumped?”
“Wow. Asshole,” I snap before grabbing my coat from the floor and sliding it on.
“But you saying you’re out of my league is…”
“For one, the truth,” I say holding up a finger. “And two I only uttered said truth because you were acting like you were embarrassed.”
He takes a step closer to me and I take a step back. We do this a few more times until I’m against the wall and he’s towering over me. “Alright, clearly your ego is a little bruised after yesterday, so I’ll give you thisone.I’m not embarrassed that I fucked you, Michaels. You’re hot, and you know you’re hot. You may even be the hottest girl at the office, depending on the day and what that hot blonde in sales is wearing. But I don’t want you swooning or staring at me with hearts in your eyes just because I made you come…a lot.” He smirks and I scowl at his comment. “We had sex once, I don’t see why things have to change at the office, that’s all.”
“Fine by me.” I push him slightly to get him out of my space. “I’m leaving.” I don’t wait for his response before I’m out of his bedroom and scurrying through his living room to his front door. I’m barely out the door when I slap a hand over my mouth and let out a muffled scream.
Fuck.
How could I have rebounded with Vincent Maddox?
4
Lauren
“Maddox, Michaels, get in here,” I hear from my cubicle, and I’m immediately on edge hearing mine and Vince’s name spoken in the same sentence.
I’m still nursing the worst hangover I’ve had since college and I’ve been able to avoid Vince ever since I got here. I slide my pumps on that I’d kicked off the second I sat down at my desk before making my way to my boss’ office.
Vincent is already seated when I get there and I reluctantly take the seat next to him. I slide the chair a few inches away from him to try and put some space between us, but evidently, I’m not all that sly because my boss stares at me over his glasses.
Jack Owens is a no-nonsense kind of boss that doesn’t take anyone’s bullshit. Sometimes he’d put up with mine, but that was only after I’d nailed a story. He pulls his glasses off and slides them across his desk.
“Enough. Both of you.” I frown, a blush finding my cheeks as I prepare to be chastised. “I’m sick of both of your shit. My kids act more mature than both of you. If I didn’t know any fucking better, I’d say you were in love with each other.”
I choke on seemingly nothing and stare at him with wide eyes. “False. Fake news.” I cross my arms and glower at my boss. He raises an eyebrow at my boldness though he’s come to expect it before shaking his head.
He runs his fingertips over his graying goatee before pointing at both of us. “Be that as it may, I’m assigning you both to a story.”
“Together?” Vince and I say at the same time.
“Yes, together.” He nods.
“Why? I can handle it alone.” Vince says and I snap my head towards him.
“Yes, me too.” I nod my head vigorously, my ponytail tapping my shoulders with each shake. My head throbs slightly, reminding me that I really shouldn’t be making too many sudden movements in my condition.
“You’re doing it together because, quite frankly, I’m sick of the back and forth between you two and since you’re insistent on acting like children, I’m going to treat you like it. You’re co-writing this story. It’s a fluff piece more or less, but this woman is gaining traction on Twitter and I want a piece on it by the end of the weekend. You two are quick; it shouldn’t take much time out of your scheduled fighting.”
I let out a sigh, already admitting defeat that I’m going to be spending the weekend arguing about syntax with fucking Vincent Maddox. “What is it?”
He taps his top lip before he slides a stack of papers across his desk. I frown when I note the tweets. “She’s…a psychic?”
