I抦 back to wondering if she spits in my morning coffee.
Weirdly, being ignored makes me crazier than anything she抯 ever said to me.
Ironic.
Anna Patel calls a marketing meeting on Thursday and asks me to sit in. Of course, there抯 a vacant chair beside Nevermore.
I hesitate a second too long, leaving an opening for this junior copywriter to step past me toward the seat. I can抰 even remember his name.
Jake? Jeremy? James?
He抯 a newer kid, and he抯 damn near undressing her with his eyes so obviously that if she ever looks up from her laptop, she抣l feel buck naked.
The punk thinks he抯 sitting beside her.
Like hell.
I speed up, stepping behind him and grabbing his shoulder.
揥hy don抰 you take the seat beside Miss Patel? I may need to talk to my assistant.?It抯 not a question. My words are professional, but my tone is barbaric.
I抳e never felt so uncivilized in the office, and fuck, it has everything to do with the hot prick of jealousy coursing in my veins.
揙h, sure thing, Mr. Burns!?he says, fear flashing in his eyes before he scurries off without looking back at me.
That抯 what I thought.
I sit down beside Dakota, grateful she抯 oblivious to my territory marking.
Until she laughs, leans over, and whispers, 揃ehave.?
揥hy??I ask, flashing her a clueless look.
揧ou practically gave the poor guy shell shock.?
I抦 not sorry.
He should be scared when he tries to usurp the boss?seat梠r his woman. Let him drool over a hundred thousand other beautiful women in this city.
揧ou抮e welcome, Nevermore. From the looks he gave you, I think he writes angsty poetry about you. If he抯 able to write at all. Is he any good??
I抳e never noticed his work when he抯 assigned to a less pressing line under Anna. Hell, like most new hires, I half forgot he even worked here until now.
揌e抯 where he should be, I think. We don抰 collaborate a ton,?she says diplomatically, hiding a rosy blush on her cheeks.
揌e should do more writing and less eye-fucking,?I growl in her ear, leaning close.
What the hell is wrong with me?
My nostrils flare at her scent. It抯 bad enough that I practically tossed the boy on the floor, and now I抦 low-key smelling her like a Neanderthal with a rose.
揗r. Burns, shut up!?she hisses.
I can抰 help smirking as her green eyes roll with shock.
揇id you see how he looked at you??I whisper, undaunted. 揑f he was looking for his muse, it damn sure wasn抰 interested in PG-13 poetry.?
She抯 bright red but she grins.
揧ou抮e such an idiot. Jim does not write poems about me. I doubt he even reads anything that isn抰 a bargain thriller. I mean, that抯 usually what he抯 got his nose stuffed in during lunch.?
Her quip shouldn抰 make me happy. At least Nevermore isn抰 impressed with his reading habits.
揟akes one to know one with writers, I guess. You are a Poe and a literary princess,?I tease.
Her eyes lock onto mine harshly.
揃oss, I will stab you with my pen,?she whispers.
揇oubtful.?
揥ant to bet??
揑 do. I抦 the guy who抯 signing your checks and your first performance bonus is coming up fast. Wounding me now would be monumentally suicidal.?
揧ou sure? It didn抰 stop me from nearly hitting you with an apple,?she says. 揑抦 still sorry I missed.?
I snort, shaking my head. 揟hanks for reminding me I should put you on an improvement plan.?
Dakota picks up the pen beside her laptop and jabs me in the center of my hand with the butt end.
Fuck.
I blink away the sudden sharp sensation.
揇amn you, are you out of your mind??I snarl, shaking out my hand under the table.
揝eems to be the theme around here, Lincoln.?
Damn her again.
My urge to flip her over my knee and slap some respect into her plump ass eases ever so slightly when I hear my name on her lips.
At least she抯 back in fighting form. I抦 about to demand a meeting in my office after this one when I look up at the room, now full with several late stragglers slouching against the walls.
All eyes are on us, and I realize we抮e no longer whispering.
揂re you two, um, ready? We should get started,?Anna says awkwardly.
揙f course.?I nod. 揝orry. Take us away, Miss Patel.?
揌e started it,?Dakota mutters under her breath.
The few people in earshot burst out laughing.
Wonderful. This insufferable woman twists my balls so tight I抦 accidentally giving the entire office gossip machine plenty of grease for the next year.
揙kay, everyone, let抯 hear some updates on the wedding line. Let抯 start with you, Martha,?Anna says, pointing her pen at the easygoing brunette in the corner.
I try not to glare at the slender blond next to me. I should be avoiding Nevermore, not sparring with her out in the open.
One by one, the team checks in, and they抮e all making progress. Several people have completed new ad sequences with samples for us to review on the screen.
The designs are mostly promising.
Jimbo抯 comes up somewhere in the middle. It抯 a passable image, but the man can抰 write his way out of a paper bag. I haven抰 seen sales copy so bland since I bothered to read Chicago Transit billboards at the airport.
Dakota even corrects his grammar twice.
When it抯 my turn, I offer the best feedback梩he blunt kind.
Fifteen minutes later, I抦 far from done, but I wait while a couple others pass around my comments. I抦 not expecting two tiny fingers pinching my arm. My head whips toward Dakota.
揥ill you stop??she whispers.
揥hat? He抯 my employee. He has to produce content I抦 happy with. This is shit.?
揧ou only gave one or two bits of advice to everyone else. You抮e singling him out,?she whispers.
揌ardly. If he wants to write, he needs to learn.?
揂nd you need to learn a little patience with the people you hire, Burns,?she says harshly.
I kick back in the seat, rolling over her words in my head.
揅ome to think of it, he came in here on an internship. You抮e offered a job by default at the end if you don抰 fuck up. I don抰 even remember interviewing this guy,?I say.
Fine.
Maybe I am being overly critical because I didn抰 like the way he undressed my woman梞y assistant and best copywriter梬ith his beady little eyes. Or maybe he just feels like a waste of resources.
揥hen I抦 done playing EA, I抣l review his writing and work on coaching him up to snuff,?she says politely.
I shake my head like I抳e just been kneed in the stomach.
揟hat抯 Anna抯 job. I抣l mention it to her after the meeting,?I bite off, staring her down.
When I look at the front again, there抯 someone else抯 work on the projector now.
The image shows a glowing bride with her well-dressed groom holding her hand. They抮e besotted with each other. Everything about the shot bleeds luxury through rosy filters and fine-tuned colors.
?here, I think you抣l agree this is a lovely mockup. Perhaps we should outline the words in a brighter hue so your copy shows up clearly, Dakota,?Anna says.
That抯 what I catch, anyway. I抦 sure the rest of whatever she said went right out the window, blurred into a Charlie Brown grown-up monologue of toots and whistles.
Fuck me. Where is my mind?
I抦 afraid to answer that when one glance at Nevermore tells me.
When Anna stops speaking, everyone looks at me.
Shit.
揑 agree wholeheartedly, Miss Patel,?I say, like my brain isn抰 grounded on Nevermore and the way her dress is riding up every time my eyes flick to my side.