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1
Grace
Murmurs of conversation buzzed around me as I fought the urge to swat them away. Sitting at my desk, I held the backspace key and erased the last sentence of my email. Some of my accounting colleagues had pushed the office furniture back earlier, exposing more of the speckled gray vinyl underneath. They now laughed and mingled on that plastic floor, but I frowned as I peered down at my laptop.
That statement isn’t correct, is it? I should check the report again.
My co-worker and best friend Omar leaned over the side of my cubicle, holding a plateful of cake. “Are you still working?” he asked. The accusation in his voice didn’t warrant a response.
“I just need two more minutes,” I said, not taking my eyes off my screen, despite the sweet smell of his strawberry and vanilla cake.
He sighed. “Grace, this is a party. Sometimes, you’ve got to let loose and enjoy the moment.”
“Oh, please. It’s a retirement party. And for someone whose position I’m after, might I remind you.” Instinctively, my eyes flew toward the older man holding two drinks in his hand and the redhead beside him on the makeshift party floor. She laughed and spilled her drink on one of the lawyers from the fifth floor who stood next to her. She might not have looked like it, but Faith Allens was my biggest rival and the only other person qualified enough for the job I pursued. She appeared carefree except when her eyes hit mine, then she reminded me of a viper ready to strike.
Omar must have noticed my gaze wander, so he added, “They can’t give her the senior audit manager position. You’ve been here longer.”
I nodded but knew Omar was only trying to make me feel better. Delmar & Tuch didn’t have any official policy on promotions, so I wasn’t guaranteed to get the position simply because I had more experience than Faith. Everyone knew she put in extra hours chatting and lunching with the partners while I barely left my office for a bathroom break.
“If I can finish my next project before the end of the week, I know I’ll impress the partners. I’ll have completed the most audits compared to anyone else in this firm. I don’t want there to be any doubt in anyone’s mind that I deserve this promotion.”
Omar blew out a breath, but it didn’t move his perfectly coiffed hair. “I can’t believe we’re talking about work at a party. You need to relax and have fun. Come have a drink with me.”
Raising my fingers off the black keyboard, I listed the reasons why that was a bad idea. “Number one, I’m the designated driver today. Number two, I can’t stay late. You know I have to get back home right after this.”
“Fine,” he huffed, pulling up a chair next to me.
“You don’t have to stay with me while I work.”
“Oh, I’m not. Because you’re not working anymore.” He pushed down the screen of my laptop and swiveled my thin black office chair to face him.
“Omar!”
He raised his eyebrow at me and I knew I’d lost this argument based on the sheer determination on his face.
Looking directly at me, Omar smiled. “That’s better.”
I rolled my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair. Omar had convinced me to cut it into a bob, and I didn’t hate it.
“You need a distraction,” Omar said, pulling out his phone. “I’m sure I can find some gossip to interest you.” When I didn't respond, he looked up and noticed me holding my phone. I couldn’t tell if he knew I was typing an email, but he grabbed my phone anyway and turned it face down on my desk. I blew out a frustrated sigh but turned my attention to him.
“Have you seen what the Crawford brothers have been up to? Colton is married, of course, but Luke is all over page six. Look at this.” I peeked at the picture on his screen and my stomach churned.
Oh, god. Of all the people in the world!
He still had the same tousled light brown hair and green eyes, of course. But it was that smile, that I-don’t-give-a-crap-about-anything smile that made me want to grab Omar’s phone and smash it into a billion pieces underneath my three-inch heel.
“Oh honey, if you bite that lip any harder, you’ll make it bleed,” Omar said with a grin. “Here, take it.” He pushed the phone toward me, but I held my hands up.
“Don’t you dare bring that face any closer to me,” I said.
He laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”
“That man made my life a living hell back in high school. I couldn’t walk any hallway without someone whispering that awful nickname he gave me behind my back.”
“A nickname? Well, maybe he liked you?”
I stared at him. “No. He didn’t.”
