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He snagged the beers, headed for the back door.
She should have shoved another brownie in her mouth.
She didn’t.
Which was probably why she said what she said next. “Wait.”
Okay, so it wasn’t Shakespeare.
But it stopped him from stepping out onto the back porch, had him turning back toward her, lifting his brows in question.
“You and Mel?” she asked.
His expression went blank, and her heart sank. It shouldn’t have.
Itshouldn’thave.
But his face was answer enough.
“T,” he began.
She picked up another brownie. “I’m happy for you guys. She’s perfect for you.”
His lips parted, something in his expression that she couldn’t discern. But then those lips pressed flat, turned up at the edges, and he nodded. “Thanks, T.”
He slid open the door.
And disappeared out into the night.
Leaving her…to her fucked up thoughts.
And her brownies.
Fifteen
Jeremy
“And why do you think you would be a good fit for our company?”
Why?
Heknewthe fit wouldn’t work.
He’d known that from the moment he’d walked into the lobby, checked in at the security desk, and waited for Cheryl, the hiring supervisor, to interview him.
The feel was wrong.
He wouldn’t be happy here, not in the long term.
But it would be better than dealing with Bianca, with the meetings and emails and untenable hours.
And even if he didn’t get this job, this interview was good practice.
For future interviews.
For future bullshitting.
For current bullshitting.
