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As we spoke, we moved closer together, like the world’s most broken magnets, repelled by each other but unable to pull away. As I said the last words, his eyes swept me, taking in my heaving chest and the muscle roller held like a weapon between us.
He swallowed and his eyes darkened as he held my gaze. I could see the faint sheen of sweat on his face and smell the musk of sweaty man and his expensive cologne. His muscled arms were on full display, crossed against his chest as he said “You’re lucky you were able to beat me up here because you know you stand no chance down there.” He motioned towards the floor, slicing his hand through the air. “And it won’t happen again, so enjoy your victory while it lasts.”
I was practically shaking with anger. “God, Andrew. You are such a dick. Spare me your hyper-competitive insanity for five minutes, I’m begging you.”
I could have sworn his whole body stood at attention at that. “I’d like to see that,” he muttered.
“See what?” I snapped, practically vibrating with anger.
“You. Begging.” He bit the words out like they were painful.
A rush went through me. My eyes widened, my heart beat faster.Did I just imagine that?Because right now it looked like Andrew wanted to eat me alive. Like I could be a nice treat along the way in his race to the top. My whole body stood at attention. I lived in a world where Andrew was nothing but an annoying competitor. Not a man, and certainly not the stupidly hot man I knew him to be. I had lived in an alternate reality, clearly, because I had just woken up. Every aspect of him was like a punch to the gut.His shirt clinging to his torso. The outline of one carved bicep where his arms are crossed.I looked up.His bottom slightly fuller than the top. The sweep of his lashes.I refused to be taken in by his looks like every other girl in this firm. I gritted my teeth and closed the gap between us. His deep green eyes widened slightly. I could feel the heat radiating off of him and his shudder as I put my hand on the beam next to him. Was he scared of me? I thought not. He leaned in, his whole body taut, the bands of muscle on his arms tightening.
“Let me tell you a secret,” I murmured. I would never beg you for anything, even if I were dying. Even if I had to massage Gerald’s feet every day for a year. Even if it meant I would make partner instead of you. Go. To. Hell.”
I whirled around and stalked out of the gym, just catching a glimpse of Andrew as he closed his eyes and slumped against the beam. I had gotten the last word in, right? Then why did I feel so shitty?
8
Andrew
Normally a good workout cleared my head for the rest of the day, but not today.I’m begging you. What I wouldn’t give for that. I wanted Margo just as much as I had when I had moved out of our office, just as much as I had for every damn day of the last eight years. It was the main reason I had started avoiding her. Better to be her enemy than be staffed on deal where we had to work side-by-side. And now, slipping into our animosity and banter was like slipping into a well-worn pair of shoes.
She had made her opinions on me very clear. The first time she had lashed out at me, I had been shocked, but now? Par for the course. And I gave it right back. Show no weakness, feel no pain. I blew out a breath. Despite my confidence in front of the partners, I wasn’t really sure we could survive sharing an office. When we showed up on Monday morning, we’d be just feet away from each other.
Fuck. I was so close to making partner and this could not be the final hurdle over which I stumbled. I scrubbed a hand over my face. My father would love to see me fail, to come back to him, tail between my legs, asking for a job in the family business. He was embarrassed that I was a lawyer because his friend’s sons might be able to tell me what to do. A “mere scrivener” he had said when I had been accepted to law school. Ironically, he, of all people, should understand what it was to make your own way. He’d started from nothing, getting his MBA and starting a hedge fund with just $1000. His parents had been blue collar to the core. And now that I was trying to do the same thing, he ridiculed me.
I clenched my fist and opened a new email. I was not going to be brought down by Margo Clarke. We were going to be cordial and pleasant to each other if it killed us. I stabbed at the keys, the sound echoing in my office. Four words.
To: Clarke, Margo
From: Markman, Andrew
Subject: We need to talk.
Margo took her sweet time coming to my office. When she finally knocked, her expression told me she would rather be executed than spend alone time with me. I leaned over from behind my computer and appraised her. Black wool skirt that hugged her curves, look of hatred on her face. Her sexy tank top from earlier was gone.Too bad. I would have to find another way to amuse myself.
“Margo. You’re looking well.” I knew my bland expression would irritate her and it did. She made a face and slumped against the door. “You saw me just two hours ago. What could you possibly want?” I smirked, loving that I was pushing her buttons. “Here. I got you one of these.” I pulled a large coffee from its carrier and passed it to her gratefully outstretched hands. She gave me a surprised look but took the coffee, and then immediately opened the lid to peer inside.
“I know you take it with skim and one sugar.” I still knew her coffee order after seven years. I had tamped down the intimate details of our friendship until we were nothing but strangers. But deep down, I knew her favorite foods, how she took her coffee, that she only listened to instrumental music while drafting, but preferred classic rock the rest of the time, that she waited for everyone to leave before putting on her yoga pants every night, that her phone was half full of ridiculous photos of her cat.
“Just checking for poison.”
“Suit yourself. Though I doubt you could detect poison on sight alone.” I raised a brow. “Can you?”
“I guess I’ll take my chances. Beats doing Gerald’s bitch work anyways.” She grinned at me and I gave her a shocked look.
“Did you just smile at me?” I took off the glasses I wore for reviewing hard copy, blew on them and wiped them clean.
“Ha ha, very funny. I can be fun. Don’t you remember when we shared an office?” She joked but I tensed. Of course I remembered. I thought about it every day. She’d been my best friend until she had decided, out of nowhere, that she despised me. She spent her time making my life hell, until I couldn’t help but hate her back.And lust after her, you giant idiot.
“Fun...” I swallowed. “Is not the word I would use.” Because for me, it had been torture. There was one night that was seared in my memory. We’d decided to blow off some steam after work by going to a piano bar downtown. The crowd had surged and had pushed her against me. When her eyes had dropped to my lips, I had been ready to kiss her. That night, everything had changed. Not a month later I had asked for a transfer to a new office. All I could think about is how much better than last seven years would have been with a friend in my corner. That friend would never be Margo. She had run away from me so fast once I moved offices, it had been like our friendship never existed.
“I know, it was hell on earth for you. I get it.” She waved a hand, ignoring my obvious discomfort. She still had no idea why I had requested that transfer. No idea that I had wanted to bend her over the desk and screw her senseless. And it would stay that way, because I couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing than being rejected by her. Besides, I was better than that now. “Anyways I’m sure I won’t be smiling after what you have planned for me.”
“We need to talk,” I responded.
Her brows drew together. “Well, hurry it up then. I got three hours of sleep and I woke up the the imprint of the F key on my cheek. I think I dreamed about Gerald.”
