Page 24 of Ruled By Rivalry

I took my first sip of water to avoid an answer. Raspberry, the way I always had it in the office. Down to the three ice cubes inside.

“Totally agree.” This time, it wasn’t just a subtle look; Elliot turned to me fully, raising his brows and making a point by prodding, “Right, Maeve?”

And I wanted to strangle him right then and there.

Right. Yes. Of course.

My cowardly agreement still haunted me twenty minutes later as we waved Daphne and Ryan goodbye with the fakest smiles ever seen. Like divorced parents reuniting for the first-day-of-school sendoff.

“Why do you make my life so difficult?” The door closed behind them, but I didn’t dare drop my smile.

“Oh come on, Maeve.” Elliot’s shoulder bumped mine. “Live a little.”

But their driver closed the door behind Daphne, and I could finally give Elliot a piece of my mind. “You can’t just suggest sustainability when we haven’t even cleared it with Camila and Oliver!” I snapped, whirling toward him. “Look how excited Daphne was—now we have to do it. What if we can’t?”

Elliot gave me a look that screamed duh. Then confirmed it by adding, “It’s almost like that was the whole point.” Making his way back to the elevators, I briefly wondered if he’d ever had to show his badge—if he even had one—or if his face was the entrance card, because the receptionist opened the gate for him without a second thought. I followed. “Sometimes it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. Ever heard of that?”

“I usually don’t need either.” My cautious, thoughtful nature was no match for a guy who threw both words around like he had infinite get-out-of-jail-free cards. I added, “But we’re not talking about me right now. You’re the problem.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to talk about me so badly, Maeve.” He pouted, and my pulse was racing into overdrive. Skyrocketing because of Elliot Fucking Ashwood. I was seconds away from a heart attack.

He’d just been caught in another controversy hours ago, and he was as giddy as ever. Had snuck an advantage in the middle of said controversy. Again and again, Elliot was winning.

“You know we need to do custom looks now, right?”

“Aware,” he said. The doors of the elevator popped open, and I tried not to catch his eye in the opposite mirror. Obviously, I failed. The amusement in his gaze was undeniable. Infuriating. Kind of hard to look away from. He leaned against the backlit panels on one side, and I took the farthest corner from it, attention finally on the Ashwood bow on the floor.

My breathing exercises were failing me right about now. Two deep breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth, and I still wanted to jump Elliot. In the least sexy way possible. He must’ve noticed and doubled down.

“Contrary to your belief, I’m not dumb. I may not have majored in fashion design, and I may not have graduated with honors—but Ryan Quinn and Daphne Martin in custom Adeline Ashwood just has a much nicer ring to it.”

“It also has one hundred more hours of work in it!”

“Isn’t that what you’re here for?” I hated how right he was.

Back on the second floor, it must’ve looked like a wild-goose chase—out of the elevator, through the halls to our studios, while I was talking to (borderline yelling at) his back. “Have you gotten in trouble for anything in your life? Ever?”

It didn’t seem like he knew what the word consequences even meant. He probably bulldozed through life, and people apologized for standing in his way when he crushed them.

At the moment, not even his internship at Adeline Ashwood seemed like a punishment to him. Elliot looked happy to be here, especially whenever he tried to piss me off and succeeded.

I continued after him and—ran into his back.

I didn’t mean to, but how could I know he’d just . . . stop. In the middle of the hallway, several feet still between us and the doors to our respective studios. I barely managed to take a step back when he turned.

Way too close, way too intimate, some distant voice in my head warned. Screamed. Begged me to take another step back, preferably much bigger than the last one. I didn’t, and neither did he.

“Plenty,” he said. “I’m here, aren’t I? And I’ve got another meeting with Hunter tonight, which you only score when you’ve done something troubling.” His eyes narrowed in amusement. “What about you, Maeve? Have you ever gotten in trouble for anything in your life?”

“No.” I only managed to take a step back once he took an unnecessary one toward me. Our toes were basically touching regardless. “I don’t make mistakes.” Or barely, anyway.

“So that coffee on my shirt two weeks ago was on purpose?” Why the hell was he smiling? “Knew it.”

We stood in the middle of the hallway, my back almost flush with the wall, his polished shoes almost touching my sneakers. I tried not to start analyzing the blue of his eyes, so my gaze focused on the tip of his nose. Shame that was perfect, too.

In two weeks of relatively close proximity, I had yet to find the physical flaw in Elliot I’d been looking for since day one.

“You don’t scare me, you know?”