Page 249 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Definitely.”

“So…I’m gonna say something,” Stacy said as we boarded the train for Queens. The subway wasn’t too packed at this hour, so we scooted into a pair of free seats. “Try not to bite my head off, okay?”

“What?”

“Trent’s…not that bad?”

I rolled my eyes. “You caught him on a good day. Maybe he was on his best behavior because his friends were there. Trust me, he’s capable of being a real asshole.”

“I mean…aren’t all of us capable of that sometimes?” Stacy pointed out gently. “Maybe that first time you met him was the outlier, and on your average day, he’s actually a decent guy.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” I said, sneering a little as I remembered him yelling at his dad on the phone. What kind of guy would do that? Surely not a good one.

Stacy snorted. “Well, he’s definitely not the ogre you described. You made him sound super uptight and obnoxious.”

“He is!”

“But he really isn’t. Come on, you had a nice time. Admit it. I saw the way you were looking at him.”

“I wasn’t looking at him any type of way,” I blustered, lying through my teeth. “But if it makes you happy, I’ll admit that there might be more to him than I realized.”

“And?”

“No and,” I said. “That’s it. He’s not just the Coffeezilla that got me fired. But the jury is still out on whether he’s more Jekyll or Hyde.”

“At least now I understand why he gets you going so much,” Stacy said.

I snapped my head in her direction. The corner of her mouth curled. “What are you talking about?”

“Please tell me you’ve noticed the sparks between the two of you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not interested in a relationship. Especially with him. But if we want to talk sparks, what about you and Dominic? You two seemed to be hitting it off tonight.”

“We were, weren’t we?” She laughed. “Though it’s a little weird for me to be talking to a guy who’s not into theater. He totally missed the Midsummer Night’s Dream reference I dropped into the conversation.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not necessarily a bad thing,” I pointed out. “At least you know this means he won’t go quoting Shakespeare to try and justify cheating on you like the last guy.”

“Ugh,” Stacy groaned. “You’re right. ‘To thine own self be true.’ Like actually, that guy can kiss my ass.”

I threw my head back and laughed at the look on her face. When the laughter died away, I considered what she’d said about Trent. Stacy might have terrible taste in theater guys, but she was right about one thing—the sparks between Trent and me were heating up. But even though the thought of having to fake this relationship with him was mildly less repellant, the last thing I wanted to do was screw up this work opportunity by complicating us.

Relationships and the workplace didn’t mix.

I knew better.

I’d been burned by that before.

8

TRENT

Pam stood in the doorway of my office, hand on her hip, tapping her foot like I was some delinquent high schooler about to be late for an important exam. I held up a finger, asking for one more minute. “You know we aren’t really in the commercial furniture business, James.”

“I know, but the showroom needs some new showstopper pieces, and my grandmother thought Saunders could design something specific for us.” James was Bernie’s grandson, and he’d taken over as CEO of Branson Designs after she retired. Despite our grandmothers’ friendship, we really only knew each other in passing.

“Send me over some ideas for what you want, and I’ll pass it along to my designers.”

“Thanks, Trent.” There was a pause. Then, “How’s your grandmother doing? Bernie is worried.”