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“You think so?” Donna frowned “Or maybe I’m just not his type.”
“Oh, you’redefinitelyhis type,” Chess reassured even as she bit into a sandwich. Anything that wore a skirt was Tazeem’s type. Just to encourage Donna further, she lied, “Just the other day he told me you were pretty.”
“No way!” Donna preened in delight. “Did he really say that?”
“Don’t be an idiot, Donna,” Felicity, who was seated alone at the adjacent table with a half-eaten salad in front of her, chimed into the conversation. “You don’t have a shot with a guy like Tazeem.”
“What?” Donna’s head whipped towards the intruder so fast that it was a surprise her neck didn’t break with the motion. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s true.” Felicity stuck her fork into her salad and twirled it around. “Tazeem has ‘I’m only here for a good time’ written all over his face, and you have ‘I want a husband and fifteen kids right this minute’ desperately flashing over your head like a neon sign. A guy like Tazeem would never go near you. Not even with a ten-foot pole.”
Even though Felicity was single, she was the only woman in their office who wasn’t charmed by Tazeem, which had made Chess look at her in a new way. The woman may be rude as hell but she certainly wasn’t dumb.
Annoyance written all over her face, Donna demanded, “Who invited you into this conversation, Felicity?”
“I invited myself.” Felicity arched her eyebrows and tilted her head. “Problem?”
“Yeah, problem. Big problem. No one asked for your opinion,” Donna snapped. “And this is a private conversation.”
“If you have a conversation in a public area, then it’s no longer a private conversation,” Felicity retorted. “And you sounded so deluded that I felt it was my God-given duty to bring you back to earth.”
“Okay, Felicity,” Chess decided to intervene. “Chill!”
“You chill,” Felicity countered. “Stop gassing Donna up when you know she doesn’t have a chance with that man.”
Chess knew no such thing. When it came to Tazeem, everyone had a chance.
“Can you just butt out of our conversation,” Donna bit out. Her eyes were brimming with fury, her hands were curled in fists over the table, and it looked like she was seriously considering decking their coworker. “Be gone, Felicia.”
“It’s Felicity.” Felicity stood. While smiling, she added, “And I’ll gladly leave. I don’t want your desperation rubbing off on me.”
With that, she traipsed off in a swish of skirts and a click of stiletto heels.
The girl knew how to make an exit.
Chess was left soothing Donna and assuring her that nothing Felicity had said was true. It was a hard job, but someone had to do it.
Moments like this had Chess seriously reconsidering her future with Synovent. Though she loved her job, Richard had encouraged a competitive environment within the office that often translated to a lot of cattiness, hostility, and backstabbing. Apart from Derrick, Chess didn’t trust anyone in the whole building. Not even the cleaners.
Her plan was to win this competition and become VP. Once she was VP, she’d do a great job at that position, and stick it out at Synovent for two or three more years. The moment Richard offered her a position in one of his other companies, she’d ditch this place like it was on fire. Hopefully, the next company she worked for wouldn’t be as toxic. And if it was, she’d use her now fantastic résumé to get a better job elsewhere.
With a bit of luck, Tazeem would be gone from her life at that time too.
Chess didn’t see Tazeem until a week after the conversation with Donna. He showed up to check out the venue Felicity had scouted for their event. And as usual, he looked good enough to eat. Chess hated to admit it but when she’d seen him emerge from his Mercedes SUV in his GQ suit and sunglasses, her insides had melted. Only self-control had kept her from visibly swooning. How could any woman not be floored by him?
“You’ve slept with someone, haven’t you?” Chess asked as soon as she had the opportunity.
Tazeem scoffed. “You wish!”
“You’re lying,” Chess accused beneath her breath even as the two of them followed behind Felicity, Bart (the venue’s manager), and Elliot (the representative from H-Street).
“You know I’m not.” He chuckled. “Are you worried that I’ll win the bet?”
Tazeem’s amusement annoyed her. It had been close to a month now since they’d made their bet. When was he going to break? His confident swagger said that he had a few more days of self-denial in him. And that was very worrying.
“I’m not worried.” Faking bravado that she didn’t feel, she added, “Sooner or later, you’ll break.”
“Oh, baby, I’m a rock.” His hand came up to lightly pat her braided hair. “I won’t break.”
