My sister is living the dream of so many that post content online hoping to find an avid audience. She’s a social media influencer. She has millions of followers across different platforms. Her corporate sponsorships keep her in the latest high-end fashions and pay for the mortgage on the apartment she owns.
I rent a bedroom from her and do most of the cooking.
We took the subway uptown together this morning. I read a book while she responded to some of the thousands of comments posted beneath a picture of the new mascara she used today.
I rest the cup of coffee I picked up at Palla on Fifth on my desk.
“Where’s mine, Isabella?”
I shoot a glance in the direction of Barrett’s office. “Palla’s is a block over. You can make it there and back in under ten minutes if you catch the elevator at the right time.”
“I know where it is.” He pushes back from his desk to stand. “Use your expense account to pick me up a cup every morning on your way to work.”
I don’t pay for coffee at Palla on Fifth.
My cousin, Rocco, owns the business with our cousin, Arlo, and his wife, Palla. Whenever I stop in to pick up a medium cup of dark roast, Palla insists that I put my wallet away.
He goes on, “I want a cup on my desk when I arrive tomorrow.”
?
?I usually start work at nine. You prefer to start earlier,” I point out with a finger jab at the face of my watch. “Make a pit stop there on your way here.”
I expect more push back from him, but all I get is a stern glance and a cross of his arms over his chest.
We both know that I’m not in a position to negotiate anything since my pay was doubled days ago, but it doesn’t hurt to try.
“We’ll discuss your hours another time.” His shoulders tighten. “I take it you read over the email I sent you last night.”
He looks gorgeous in the gray suit he’s wearing today. His blue shirt is a shade lighter than his tie.
It’s also the same color as the dress I picked out of my closet this morning. Gina told me to pair it with nude heels, so I did. I got two thumbs up from her before we left the apartment.
“I didn’t get a chance,” I confess.
I switched my phone to silent mode when I got home from having dinner with Dale. I’m halfway through a novel by my favorite author. I didn’t want any distractions, and I knew that Max would have questions.
I’ll answer those tonight before we meet Dale for a drink.
“You didn’t get a chance?” he parrots back with a tilt of his head.
“I was reading a book.” I take a sip of coffee.
His eyes follow my movements. His tongue darts over his bottom lip.
It’s coffee envy. I get it.
“I expect you to read every email I send as soon as it arrives.” His tone sharpens.
I take another drink from the cup in my hand. “Duke always told me that once I left this building, my work was done. He insisted that I spend my time outside of the office doing things that make me happy.”
“Things that make you happy?” He takes a step closer to me. “Does that include going on blind dates?”
I doubt he’ll stop reminding me of the night we met.
I take up the challenge that’s woven into his question because he expects me to back down. I showed weakness when he first brought up our unintended meeting at Atlas 22. I won’t make that mistake again.
“Bind dates have made me happy,” I half-lie.