Anastasia wanted every detail of how me quitting had gone. But she’d stopped me as soon as I mentioned Mr. White.
“This ‘Mr. White’ guy… Is he old and crusty?”
“No? Why?”
Anastasia took a bite of her soup, then folded her arms. “So how hot is he?”
“What kind of question is that? Who says he’s hot?”
“You aren’t calling him by his first name. Either he’s really old or you’ve got the hots for him.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “There could be a million reasons. Like the fact that he prefers to be called Mr. White.”
Anastasia was seeing straight through me. I could read it all over her face. “And you’re so dick whipped by him that you’re obeying his rules even off the clock?”
I cleared my throat. “Adrian is fine,” I said. I’d meant it as a general neutral descriptor. Like it was ‘fine’ if a friend needed to cancel on their plans for the night.
Anastasia snorted.
“Okay,” I said. “He’s attractive. But he’s insufferable. So it’s a moot point. I didn’t want to say anything because I had a feeling you were going to start looking at me like that,” I said, jabbing my finger at her.
“I have no judgment. If you want to play snake charmer with Mr. White’s anaconda, I’ll cheer you on.”
I pressed my palm to my forehead, trying not to fight back a smile. “The truth is I need this job. Maxi made sure of that. Even if I was into assholes, it’s not like I can afford to play around here.”
“You shouldn’t knock playing around with assholes until you try it. Just make sure your partner knows how to properly clean themselves out first, of course.”
I glared, which drew a rare grin from Anastasia. She was the queen of deadpan, and I thought she took it as a personal challenge to smile as little as possible. “You know what I meant.”
“I’m just saying you shouldn’t ever rule out anal.”
I shook my head at her. “Thanks for meeting me, by the way,” I said. “I’m sorry I haven’t asked to hang out as much. I was embarrassed to admit it, but money was really tight. And I didn’t think you wanted to squeeze into my apartment to share ramen.”
“You know you’re my dude,” Anastasia said. She pulled off a chunk of her bread and chucked it at me. “Soup or ramen. Count me in.”
I reached over the table and gave her hand a squeeze. “You have no idea how nice it is to hear that. My friends before… I guess I’m realizing now they weren’t really friends.”
Anastasia winked at me. “I’ve told you I’m bi, right? Keep holding my hand like that and we’re going to graduate from friends to pillow fights, sleepovers, and innocent experimentation.”
I grinned. “Way to make it weird.”
She took her hand back with a shrug. “You started it.”
“So,” I said a little while later once we’d finished our soups. “I kind of went behind his back and sent this email yesterday.” I explained how he’d been hoping to catch his employees with their pants down and I’d warned them.
Anastasia whistled. “Good for you.”
“Yeah. I’m just hoping I don’t regret it on Monday. What if he finds out?”
“Then you look him in the eye and tell him to deal with it. I don’t know if you realize, but this guy clearly wants a piece of your biscuit. Offering you a job on the spot like that? Especially when you were sassing him? He likes you being bad, Jules. I say keep it up.”
I laughed, but a warmth started to spread through me. Why the hell was that idea turning me on? Whatever bad ideas my body may have been cooking, I had to remind myself I needed to keep this job. If I lost it, I’d be out of money in a matter of weeks and looking at the choice between homelessness or running back to New York with my tail between my legs.
I just hoped I wasn’t going to be greeted by a pissed off Mr. White on Monday who wanted to know why I’d sent that email.
6
Adrian
“What the hell is this?” I asked.
Jules was sitting across from my desk with her hands folded on her knees. She had on a gray skirt that hadn’t looked too short until she sat down. Now it was more than halfway up her thighs and my damn brain was doing a piss poor job at not noticing. Over and over.
She looked painfully adorable. Her blonde hair was tied up in a neat mess, highlighting her heart-shaped face and button nose. But those big eyes of hers had a way of looking taunting, even when she was hanging her head and wringing her hands.
“What is what?” Jules asked quietly.
I had my laptop turned to face her. It showed a copy of the email she’d sent to all my employees on Friday. “You warned them all.”