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“I didn’t betray you. This is business. That’s all.”
Billy looks between the two of us. “Shit, are you serious? You guys actually slept together?” From the sound of his voice, you’d think he’s four and we just revealed Santa Claus isn’t real.
“Billy, give us a moment,” Enzo says, his eyes still locked with mine.
He wants a staring contest? Fine. He’ll lose at that childhood game just like rock, paper, scissors.
“Things were so great. Why did you have to go and sleep together?” Billy whines but leaves the office.
Once the door is shut, Enzo breaks the distance, but I step back and put my hand on his chest.
“Do not take this personally.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because of this.” He gestures to me.
“Are you sure it’s not because I’m a woman?”
“What?” His face twists. I know it’s incredibly unfair of me to pin him with that, but the Enzo who bulldozed his idea down our clients’ throats isn’t the one I’ve come to know. “How could you even think that?”
“Mr. Jacobson, did he tell you to hit a home run for the guys?”
He steps back and shoves his hands into his pockets. “You’re kidding me. You need to stop thinking every little thing is some sexist move a guy is making to get ahead of a woman.”
“Then cut off your dick and see how well-respected you are. Here I am, still sitting outside your office weeks after getting a promotion, getting you coffee and answering your phone calls. Would that have happened to Jake?” I cross my arms.
Enzo blows out a breath. “I get that, but it’s out of my control. I pitched the ad that was the best for the client.”
“You stand by your decision?”
His back straightens, and that’s all I really need to know.
“Fine. I’m out for the afternoon. You can handle them on your own since you know what’s best. I’m just the measly assistant who should feel lucky to play with the big boys, right?”
His head falls back so he’s staring at the ceiling in frustration. “For the love of Christ, Annie.”
I leave and shut the door. All eyes are on me, and small groups of coworkers are huddled together, gossiping.
Game over, everyone. The gossip train is moving on to another station because it’s done here at Jacobson and Earl, just like Enzo and me.
