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“That’s your big Friday night plan? Staples.”
I nod excitedly. “I’ll have your front desk running like a well-oiled machine in no time.”
“You’re buying stuff for the gym?”
“Nothing too crazy. Just need to get a home for these stacks of paper.”
TJ pulls keys out of his pocket. “Come on. I’ll drive.”
“Oh, you don’t have to come with me. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“Better than a wild night with office supplies? Pfft.”
I roll my eyes and walk around the desk. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”
Outside, I stop in front of TJ’s truck and groan. “Why don’t we take my car?”
He shakes his head. “I can drive.”
“Jury’s still out on that one.”
“I’m a very safe driver.”
“Says the guy who once tried to run me off the road.”
He raises three fingers in the air. “I’ll be careful with you in the car. Scout’s honor.”
Somehow, I doubt he was ever a Boy Scout. I step out of my shoes and toss them into the truck. I already fell on my ass in front of him once today—no need to make that twice. I lift my leg but my skirt doesn’t stretch enough to allow me to reach the step.
“Want some help, short stuff?”
The amused tone in his voice only irritates me further. “No. I’ve got this.”
I shimmy the hem of my skirt up my thighs, grip onto the handle, and swing myself into the seat. “And she sticks the landing.” I pump my fists into the air for effect.
TJ’s laughing as he jogs around to the driver’s side. Once we’re on our way, he turns to me and says, “So, tell me about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?”
“What are you going to school for?”
“Accounting.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”
“I like numbers. Numbers never lie.”
“Have you always wanted to be an accountant?”
I shake my head and smile. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be an artist. A painter.”
“Do you still paint?”
“If you count the apartment walls, then yes.”
“Why not major in art?”
“Because I wouldn’t be able to do much with it. I need something practical. Something that pays the bills.”
