Page 78 of Ruled By Rivalry

> Thought you needed the extra hours, told them you won’t make it for the Ashwood Annual brainstorm.

Before I had the chance to even ask myself:

UNKNOWN, three hours ago

> And yes, I got your number out of the employee register. Is that illegal? I don’t know.

Finally, my eyes focused on the clock on my lock screen. If Elliot’s text hadn’t made those alarm bells in my head go off, that sure as hell did it.

I don’t remember the last time I’d slept past nine, never mind eleven, so my gasp was justified. The way I fell out of bed, ran to the bathroom, and had my toothbrush between my teeth before I even took my next breath was too.

It didn’t matter whether I forgot to set my alarm or Elliot somehow managed to turn it off.

Suddenly, it didn’t just seem like a kind gesture to let me catch up on sleep, but a deliberate attempt to keep me away. Who knows if he’d actually told anyone I wasn’t feeling well or if he was bragging around the office about a wild night out I didn’t have and the hangover I wasn’t curing. Or maybe he was just telling everyone I couldn’t be bothered to work on a Saturday.

No matter what he’d done, one fact remained: I was late. Three hours late. I’d never been late to anything in my life before.

The day’s schedule fired through my mind as I spat foamy toothpaste into the sink.

The morning started with the first brainstorming session for archived looks, decorations, and a general vibe of the evening. Which I’d missed entirely. Camila was already pissed, so I couldn’t imagine how much worse my absence would make it.

Ten minutes later (and I wasn’t quite sure how I’d managed that), the door to our apartment fell shut behind me, and I flew down the stairs of our building so fast, I missed several steps, stumbled multiple times, and almost fell to my death.

Speed walking through the streets, I dialed his number. Elliot picked up on the second ring. “Did you tell Project Management Ronnie as well?” That was definitely panic in my voice.

On the other end, the line rattled, and his muffled laugh made it through the speaker. “Hello to you, too.” Somehow, he knew exactly what I was talking about. “Of course I did. We have the same schedule, remember?”

With the pace I was holding, I wasn’t able to let out a relieved breath, but I would’ve. “It sounds like you’re not at home anymore, though,” he added. “Don’t tell me you’re on your way here.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I gave you the perfect out to enjoy a day off!” He sounded incredulous. “And here you are. Sprinting to work the second you wake up.”

“I’m walking.”

“Very fast,” he challenged. Which I couldn’t deny. The traffic light turned red, and I picked up my pace to avoid getting run over.

“Are you trying to keep me away from the office?” The suspicion escaped my lips with less humor than intended. I tried not to read too much into the queasy feeling it left in my stomach, hoping, praying that’s all it was: a feeling.

“I’m trying,” he stressed, “to get you a day off. You’ve worked a lot recently.”

“Thank you.”

He laughed like he didn’t mean to. “That’s not a compliment, Lucky.”

It was, though. All my life, all I’d ever wanted was to work hard. Or, I guess, for my hard work to be appreciated. To earn scholarships and competitions, get into my dream school and accepted at my favorite internship. Working hard meant I was doing something right. That I was making Mom proud up there.

Even if I’d been letting Elliot dangerously close to parts of me I’d been hiding for the past two decades. Not just physically, but emotionally. And I wasn’t entirely sure how she would feel about my proximity to him.

“If it’s not a compliment, why am I blushing?” Pushing the office door open, phone between shoulder and ear, Amir glanced at the watch on his wrist, then raised an eyebrow at me. Another reminder of how unfashionably late I was. He didn’t need to ask the question swimming in his brown eyes.

I didn’t need to answer it, either.

I scanned my badge and hurried past the elevators. No need to take more chances, so I headed for the staircase.

I got to the second floor sweaty and out of breath. And I really tried to act surprised when Elliot leaned against the wall by Camila’s office, just out of sight through her glass panel.

“No kidding” was the first thing he said, letting his phone slip back into his pocket. “You really are blushing.”