Page 32 of Trashy Affair Duet


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11. Chance Encounter

Jules

“I can’t believe you’re not going to be my roomie anymore.” Les flops onto the mattress in my new bedroom with a dramatic sigh. “You didn’t have to move out so soon, you know.” She’s over the moon about my new job, but the end of our slumber party is making her sad.

Truth be told, it’s making me a little sad too.

Hanging up a dress in my dinky closet, I shoot her a smile. “It’s much closer to work,” I point out. “Besides, I had to find my own place eventually.”

“I know. I just thought eventually would be a while longer. God, I’m going to miss your face first thing in the morning.” She takes a look around my bedroom. “You know, this place is kinda small. Are you sure you’re going to be okay here?”

“Seriously, Les?” I laugh, raising an incredulous brow. “I’ve had my shit all over your room for the past few weeks. Why are you not celebrating getting your space back?”

Lesley sits up suddenly. “Hey, that’s a fantastic idea. We should go out tonight,” she says, her tone brightening. She switches gears as fast as she drives. “Let’s celebrate, ‘kay?”

“Tonight?”

“Jules, it’s Saturday, and we haven’t hit the club once since you’ve been here.”

That’s true. I’ve been too busy busting my ass at MontBlake, trying to stay busy in order to make a good impression, but also to minimize contact with Cash. It’s almost been two weeks since he hired me, and instead of the heat between us sizzling out, it’s only gotten hotter.

“So where are we going?”

“Club Shadow. Zan’s been trying to get the band a gig there.” She shrugs. “Maybe I’ll have better luck. I’ve seen pics of the owner. He’s a hottie for sure.”

“All right. Count me in.”

“Sweet!” Jumping to her feet, she snatches a red dress from the bed. “You should wear this. You’ll have every guy in the place drooling.”

“Why do people say that? It’s not like the sight of drool is sexy.”

Rolling her eyes, she pushes the dress into my hands. “Just be ready by eight.”

“Okay, boss. Will do.”

“Speaking of…” she says, glancing at her watch, “I’ve gotta put in a couple hours at work today. Accounting bullshit.”

I walk her out, and after she gets into her Bug and disappears down the alley, I go back inside and resume unpacking. My clothes and personal items don’t take long to put away, since most of what I own came with me in a large suitcase, and the apartment came furnished. But I did buy other necessities with what little money I had left over from my savings after paying a deposit and three months rent on this place.

And maybe Les is right. Maybe this huge step should be cause for celebration. This is all a little surreal—the new city, new job, new me. A version of myself I didn’t know I was capable of finding. A me that can make it on her own. A woman, despite what Mom says, that is capable of being alone just fine. I’m liking this new woman.

But I’d like her a lot more if she’d quit lusting after a married man.

I still have a few hours to kill before Les comes back, so I step outside and lock up the apartment, excited about exploring the area. A gentle breeze drifts through the vestibule, and I don’t miss the Oklahoma humidity at all. In fact, with each day that passes, Seattle feels a little more like home instead of a place I’m visiting. I descend the stairs and head down the alleyway as the sun breaks through fluffy white clouds. Those rays warm my skin, and I’m flushed by the time I end up at Pike Place Market.

Taking in the weekend bustle with a secret smile, I step into the busy market, overwhelmed by the expanse of fresh food and handmade crafts as the lilting melodies of street musicians filter in from the sidewalk. I feel like a child on Christmas, wanting to sample everything. Touch and taste everything. Experience everything. I’m eyeing a display of berries when I sense a presence behind me.

“Hello, Jules.” His tone is deep, and it tingles down my spine. He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t have to. I turn to face him, preparing myself for the shock that electrifies me every time I lay eyes on Cash.

Once again, I remind myself that he’s my boss, and fucking married, but nothing stops the smile from spreading across my face.

Even worse, he’s wearing the same excited grin.

“Hi,” I say as a wave of heat washes over me. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“I stop by most Saturdays.”

My eyes are masters of treachery, and they take him in from the casual wind-tossed state of his dark hair to the running shoes on his feet. Jesus. Cash in a suit is dangerous, but seeing him in a T-shirt and shorts is lethal.

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