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“Yes, exactly. Would you like to write it?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Me, write an article? For the magazine?”
“Only if you want, as a proposal. I can’t guarantee it would get approved, but if you want to take a shot at it. Short and punchy, with a few good tips.”
“Okay, maybe I will.”
This was what I wanted, sharing ideas, feeling comfortable around someone. When I thought of having a conversation with my date tonight, I actually felt close to panic. I didn’t talk to my dates. In fact, I didn’t really date. Women came home with me after a few dances and drinks. Hookups were easy, and lately, completely unsatisfying. I thought about calling up Will and trying to convince him Mom had it wrong and Violet really was my girlfriend as well as my assistant. He’d never buy it since we all have strict rules about not fraternizing with our subordinates. It looked like I wasn’t getting out of the date, no matter how much I wished I could think of an emergency project, order pizza, and close myself up in my office with Violet all night.
I was stunned to realize I wanted to close myself up in my office with her, but my first thought was more conversation, more bouncing around ideas. I let my eyes drop to the edge of her camisole and then I started thinking of other things. But damn it, did I actually like Violet? Obviously I had been wanting to sleep with her since the moment I clapped eyes on her. She was damn sexy. Siren level hot. And here I was wanting to chat. I think I liked her.
Which made the prospect of the date that much worse. How could I give it an honest try when there was no way she could compare to Violet? It didn’t matter. I had to show Will I had it together enough not to screw up a simple dinner.
I tore my eyes away from her and left, feeling like I was heading toward the gallows.
Chapter 12 - Violet
I couldn’t stop stewing about Eli, even as I made my way down the elevator. Why was he so nice sometimes, making me forget I was mad at him? I actually tried to cancel the delivery, horrified at ordering a bouquet of colored condoms instead of flowers for his date. It was too late, they were already delivered, and halfway down the elevator, I was twisted up inside with guilt. Then I remembered being faced with an angry, naked woman that afternoon and was glad it was too late to cancel. Let this new woman see his true colors before she got in too deep.
But I knew I really didn’t want the new woman to like him because I didn’t want him in a serious relationship. That was what really chafed. I had no call to be so jealous it felt like a hole was burning through my gut.
A few of the writers were hanging out in the lobby and asked if I wanted to join them for a drink, but I was too worked up. On the other hand, I was exhausted, both physically and mentally. How did I go from perfect optimism just that morning to hating everything by five? I fell asleep that night feeling sorry for myself, and disgusted that I wished I was Eli’s very important date.
The next morning he stalked into the office just a few minutes after me.
“Enjoy your date?” I asked, my heart in my throat but hiding it with a singsong voice.
He glared at me and slammed into his office. Was it bad or good that he didn’t immediately tear into me for what I did? After a few tense minutes, I heard him talking loudly and since none of the office lines were lit up, I knew he was on his cell. At that point I had no shame left, so stuck my ear firmly up against the door.
“I don’t know what happened,” he said.
Whoever he was talking to was so loud I could hear their angry shouting through the door, just not what he was saying. Oh God, it was probably his brother. Eli stopped yelling and started forlornly agreeing with whatever he said next. That was worse than hearing him yell, he seemed utterly defeated. After the call ended, I ran down to get him some coffee and a bagel from the cafeteria. Now that I had calmed down some, I knew I didn’t want to get fired, but most of all, I felt bad for him and wanted to make amends.
“Is everything okay?” I asked when I brought the breakfast in.
He ignored the offering and gave me a long look. “Just admit what you did.”
His voice was calm, but I wasn’t going to let that fool me, not as long as I had plausible deniability. I had chosen a shop that delivered all sorts of gifts. It could have been a mistake.
“What do you mean?” I asked, looking at the coffee as if that might be where the problem lay.
“I was supposed to make a good impression on someone who is important to my brother. A personal friend of his, who he thought might have a nice time going out with me. I agreed, to make him happy. I even promised to send this very nice, innocent bystander a bouquet of flowers.”
“Mmhmm? Did the shop send the wrong kind? Did she not get them at all?”
He breathed out hard and shook his head. “She got a bouquet of condoms. Twelve neon colored condoms. Do you remember what I asked you to put on the card?”
I swallowed, but my throat was dry. I had to choke down a nervous giggle. “Here’s to a great night.”
“Yes, here’s to a great night. Do you think my night was that great after that, Violet?” He held up a hand to keep me from answering. “It wasn’t. And now my brother is furious with me.”
“I’m sorry,” I practically whispered. I couldn’t take it anymore. He looked so desolate.
His hand slammed down on his desk. “Damn it, I knew it wasn’t a mistake. What were you thinking, doing something like that? You really crossed the line this time.”
All at once I felt the full force of why I pulled that dumb prank in the first place. “You’re talking to me about lines?” I asked incredulously. “After I went to your apartment to clean out a clingy girlfriend for you and then change the locks because she’s that much of a psycho? You know she was naked when I got there? And I thought she might hit me on top of it. Not to mention I pretended to be your girlfriend to your mom. I guess it was fine to cross those lines?”
He squeezed his eyes shut and slammed both hands down on his desk, leaning across it toward me. “Yeah, fine. Point taken. But that was why this stupid date had to go well, to prove I’m not a screw up. Which I can’t do, because I am.”
