“Did I interrupt something?” Anderson asks.
“I…uh…I’ll be going now,” Mark stutters, then darts out the door.
Anderson slowly shuts the door, his eyes fixed on me with an odd, scrutinizing gaze.
“Any reason why the IT guy was just walking around with tented pants and a bright red face in your office?” he asks quietly, but there’s no mistaking the edge to his tone.
The guy got a boner talking about the apple-bottomed teacher, most likely. “Nope,” I chirp, refusing to go there with him. No way am I letting him know I got a bunch of viruses from porn sites on my quest to learn normal sex. Which doesn’t exist on the internet! Normal people apparently don’t post their sex lives.
When I look back at him, his jaw is tense, and I arch an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me why you look so murderous?”
He gives me a tight smile and his eyes narrow. “Nope,” he says, making the word pop out of his mouth.
“Okay then. Are we going to be able to get any work done on this trip?” I ask, moving on and far away from the subject of the IT guy before he figures out my poor work laptop has been used and abused. I think that violates a lot of company policies, but it was a total accident. I was looking for an informed how-to guide. Not porn.
“I’m sure we’ll be able to,” he says, a weird tension still cloaking him.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him seriously, sitting on the edge of my desk.
“Are you fucking Mark?” he demands harshly.
My mouth opens and closes a few times. Then it dawns on me.
Red faces. Boner. Hair awry.
He’s totally misreading all this, and it’s weirdly a relief that he doesn’t know I simply have no clue how to have sex. Or that I was inappropriately discussing how not to get viruses from porn sites with the IT guy.
“No,” I say with a shrug, totally relaxing now. “He was doing his job and dropped off my laptop.” I point to the laptop like he needs to see it. “By the way, are we going to be able to have that dinner while we’re away?”
He scoffs like I’ve said something ludicrous. “I can’t believe you. I’m not an idiot, Sicily. If anyone knows a lie when they hear it, it’s me. I’ve lied plenty in my lifetime, and hell, that wasn’t even a good one.”
My brow furrows. “I’m not lying. He really was dropping off my laptop, and we discussed the fact he cleaned it up.”
I leave out the porn talk, because really, that’s not a lie. It’s just embarrassing, pointless information.
He shakes his head. “I was worried about not being able to talk to you while I was away, because I figured you’d think the fucking worst, despite the fact you acted like you wouldn’t. I know women. Or at least I thought I did.”
He turns and walks out, leaving me behind feeling stupefied.
What the actual hell?
After a few minutes of being frozen to my spot, I finally stalk out of my office and into his, slamming the door behind me hard enough to make him jump and look up from his work.
I storm over to his desk and point a finger at him. “You don’t get to accuse me of having sex and then leave my office to throw a tantrum like a child. Mark and I did not have sex. He was in my office for a total of five minutes—tops—and—”
“Five minutes is long enough for a quickie,” he interrupts, the infuriating cunt bubble he is, as he smirks.
Now he’s smirking?
Is this his game? Piss me off and make me chase him just so he can smirk victoriously like he’s won something? I’m really going to kill him before I ever have the chance to have bad sex with him.
“I did not have a quickie with Mark! I’m not even interested in him! Not that it’s any of your business. You and I haven’t even gone on a date yet because you had to leave!”
A small gasp sounds from behind me, and I close my eyes, exhaling harshly. What now?
“Can I help you, Mark?” Anderson asks, looking past me, his lips twitching.
“I…uh…came to get the iPad you messaged to say was on the fritz, sir,” Mark answers, sounding gravely embarrassed.
He moves past me, never looking at me, to grab the iPad Anderson holds out to him. Anderson’s eyes are on me, a dark grin playing on his lips as Mark walks out. As soon as the door shuts, I level Anderson with a glare.
“You did that on purpose.”
“What did I do on purpose, Sicily?” His faux innocence routine isn’t amusing.
“You messaged to tell Mark to come grab your iPad immediately, knowing I’d follow you out after I picked my jaw up off the floor. Knowing I’d chase you down and call you out on your shit.”