Jett: You know this is the company message system.
Me: Well, hopefully, the owner doesn’t fire me.
Jett: The owner’s asking you what’s wrong.
Me: I just spilled my coffee and I’m tired.
Jett: Take the morning off then.
Me: No. Like you said, Steven will be back with more coffee.
Jett: Forget I said that. I’ll go with you. See if we can destress together or if you’re tired and need to sleep, I’m happy to sleep with you.
Me: Get fucked, Jett.
Jett: You said that to me your very first day on the job. And I told you that day, Pix, that’s exactly what I’m trying to do with you.
Me: I’m in a relationship with Steven. Find somebody else to harass.
I slammed my laptop shut, and it effectively shut down my monitor as well. Then my phone went off and Steven arrived.
With napkins.
And no coffee.
I exhaled a lengthy breath as I silenced my phone. I grumbled a thank you when he handed me the napkins and sat back down at his desk.
“Need help?” Looking up would have served as a reminder that I could barely resist the broad shouldered, beautiful specimen of a man that was Jett Stonewood.
I let my blonde-pink hair act as a curtain while I soaked up the dark liquid. “I have it under control.”
He hummed. I heard him shift and stole a quick peek at him leaning his hip on Steven’s desk. “So, Stevie, how are the numbers this week?”
The question was unnecessary; everyone knew the numbers. Still, Steven perked right up. “Oh. Great. No worries about meeting our goals.”
“Well, we want to surpass those, right?”
“Right, right. We will. We will.” He didn’t sound as confident. “With Levvetor being in the forefront now though …”
My gaze trailed to him. I could barely believe my ears as my so-called boyfriend rattled off an excuse about everyone focusing more on that company than his. He’d thrown us under the bus to save himself and the sorry ass job he was doing.
“Levvetor is not stealing away any employee’s time,” I blurted, rage fuming from every part of my body.
Jett laughed, but it rattled out like a canned reaction. He leaned a little toward Steven and murmured, “Women, right?”
Steven puffed up like he’d won a damn award and laughed. “Right.”
I should have shut down the conversation then and there. I saw the setup from a mile away. Yet, I stopped myself.
Blame curiosity. Maybe even self-destruction. I guess a subconscious need to veer from my original dream. I couldn’t quite put my finger on the reason.
But I let Jett ruin it all. Let him dismantle what Steven and I had. He did it quickly, effortlessly. Casually.
“I’m going to hit the bars after work. Gotta let off some steam. You in?” Jett asked him.
“Yeah. Sure. Sure. Ready when you are,” my supposed boyfriend replied much too eagerly.
“You two aren’t exclusive, right? I need a wingman tonight, not a kept man.” Jett put the question out there, offering Steven a brick he could use to either reinforce our foundation or throw at a window, shattering what little we’d built