Page 59
“Oh my god, Anita.” Hustin shook his head. “I say this because I care about you. You’re using that as an excuse.”
“What?” I bristled. “No, I’m not. Corva is really strict about—”
“I know she is, but this isn’t just you fucking a client, as much as you’re trying to tell yourself that. You like him.”
I opened my mouth to deny it. And couldn’t.
Hustin gave me a self-satisfied look. “Want to know what I think?”
“Sure. Speak your mind for once,” I said sardonically.
“You hate being seen as less than perfect. You hate losing control. So you’re trying to fight this thing with Mr Smoke Show, because if you actually let yourself develop feelings for him and let this turn into something, it will mean possibly, maybe admitting to Corva one day that you are less than perfectly one hundred percent professional at all times because you fell for a client.”
I scoffed. “I haven’t fallen for him. Jesus, I barely know him.”
“Oh my god, Anita, I know.” Hustin rolled his eyes. “I’m saying you’re trying to stop it from happening. And look how that’s going. You’re fucking him in saunas. It’s clearly not working.”
“Wanting to have sex with someone is not the same as wanting to be with them, Hustin,” I said woodenly.
“Trust me, I’m well aware. I’m just not buying it.” He jerked his head toward the sidewalk. “Come on.”
“What do you mean you’re not buying it?” I asked as I trailed after him.
“I mean that I know you, Anita. If you didn’t like him, you would have already moved on from the hot desk sex incident. You definitely wouldn’t be texting him all afternoon at work, especially when you were recently so worried about Corva finding out.”
“I was just… I had to text him about calling him later, and we just ended up… talking.”
“About fucking?”
“What? No!”
He nodded. “About work stuff, then?”
My face burned. “I… No, not exactly.”
“Hmm.” Hustin looked so smug that for just a second, I wanted to shove him over in the street and sprint away.
“This hasn’t actually helped, Hustin,” I gritted out. “I have to call him at seven-thirty. What the fuck am I meant to say?”
“Just be honest.”
God, was there any advice more infuriating?
“Be honest with yourself,” Hustin clarified.
Yes. Yes there was.
“If you really aren’t interested in him in any way, if you know without a doubt that there is no chance you will ever have sex with him again, then tell him that and move on. No more hot desk sex with the beautiful gym rat.”
Nooo, my vagina cried out.
“Or, if you can admit to yourself that it’s going to happen again, that you want it to happen again, then you should just be honest with him and talk about it together. Talk about how you’re going to deal with it moving forward.”
“I—” I rubbed my face. “He’s still a client, Hustin.”
He huffed in disgust. “Don’t even. This has nothing to do with work.”
“Yes it does.”
