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“That’s what you got from what I just said?” I deadpan.
He shrugs. “I think you’re wrong. I think my previous assistants knew how hard I worked, and they were okay dropping off and picking up some dry cleaning since it’s right downstairs.”
“And in the end, they all got fired.” I tilt my head and smile.
Billy laughs again.
“One thing has nothing to do with the other.”
“Really? Billy, go give your dry cleaning slip to Emma,” I say.
His eyes shoot up. “First of all, I’m comfortable in my body, so I don’t take offense to your comment. Second of all, I like my balls. My wife likes my balls, and she wants another kid, so I think I’ll do that myself.”
I laugh. “Okay.”
Mr. Mancini ignores Billy, talking to me. “What about you? You’re attractive. You’re telling me you don’t get perks for being good-looking?”
It takes me a minute to respond because I’m stuck on the fact that he said I’m attractive. “Um… no. We’re on different playing fields.”
His gaze drags over my body and back up. “No, we’re not.”
Does he not look in the mirror every day?
“Let’s make a bet,” he says with a smug smile.
“I’m not betting.”
“Yeah, let’s bet,” Billy chimes in, and both of us look at him.
“You go out there to that guy you’re always talking to—is he your boyfriend?” Enzo asks.
There’s only one guy out there. “Jake? No,” I scoff.
“Take this dry cleaning bag and tell him you’re swamped and ask him to take it down for you.” Enzo’s face says he’s dead serious. Demented and serious.
“No.” I smack my pen down on my notepad.
“Why? I think he’ll do it because he likes you.”
“He does not like me. We’re friends. Friends do friends favors. It wouldn’t prove your point.” I cross my legs.
“Nah. Let’s do it.” He holds the bag out for me.
“This is so childish.” I stand and snag the bag from him.
“That’s what’s so great about it,” Billy says. “I bet Jake refuses.”
“He’ll totally do it,” Mr. Mancini says, crossing his arms and staring at Jake at his computer.
I huff. Why do I feel the need to prove this adolescent point?
I walk out of the office and approach Jake’s desk. “Hey, Jake. Could you do me a favor? Um…”
He looks up at me.
“Could you take this to the dry cleaner for me? I’d do it, but I don’t have a ton of time, what with covering both desks.” I slide the bag onto the edge of his desk.
“Sure.” He holds out his hands.
