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“Your what?”
“It’s a thing. You don’t need to know about it.” Then she mutters under her breath, “Maybe I should add you to the list.”
“Are you calling me names, Gwyneth?”
She fakes an innocent smile. “I can’t do that to my new boss.”
“How about your husband?”
Her lips fall open again, and I revel in that, probably more than I should.
I love taking her off guard, making her bothered in her own fucking skin. It’s a small taste of what she does all the time.
“I can call you names,” she whispers.
“Such as Uncle Nate?”
“That was because I wanted to…”
“What? Get attention? Provoke me? What exactly were you thinking about?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll call you kiddo until you figure it out then.”
“Not that! I…just wanted to provoke you, I think.”
“Will you be repeating it?”
“No.”
“Good, or else you’ll be back to being kiddo.”
Her lips part again and a bright fucking light shines in her gaze. But instead of focusing on the happiness she’s projecting in waves, on how pleased she is about not being a kiddo anymore, I march to my desk, retrieve a thick case file, and push it at her chest.
“Go through the previous case records and find me something I can use.”
She remains there, fingers wrapped around the file. “That’s all?”
“What else should there be? You asked for an internship and this is it. I won’t take it easy on you, Gwyneth. In fact, it’ll just get more difficult going forward. So if you don’t have the will to go through this, walk away now.”
“I can do it. Iwilldo it.”
“If you say so.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I don’t believe things I don’t see.”
“You’re so cynical, you know that?”
“And you’re still standing here. Go work and behave.”
Her hold on the file falters and I lean forward in case she drops it.
She bites her lower lip and I don’t take my eyes off it, watching her wet it, her teeth nibbling on the plump cushion before she finally releases it. “B-behave?”
It’s like we’re playing a game of cat and mouse, and I don’t think I have the will to stop where this game is going anymore.
