I was only barely holding it together. You know that thing you do at the dentist or during an uncomfortable medical procedure where you disassociate yourself from the unpleasant thing happening to you? That was how I’d been getting through this orientation session.
“The content channel is just the four of us and Byron. We’re our own little bubble, separate from the rest of the art department and copywriters.” Lucy reached for my mouse, and I flinched when her arm brushed against mine.
My attempt at emotional detachment didn’t work so well when she touched me and that small, innocent point of contact jolted through me like an electric cattle prod.
“Sorry,” she muttered without looking at me. “You can probably familiarize yourself with the other channels on your own, but this one right here is the one you really want to pay attention to, because it’s where the important updates about upcoming promotions and product changes get posted.”
“Got it,” I said, praying for this godforsaken tutorial to end.
Seeming to sense my discomfort at last, she pushed her chair back to give me more space, and I let out a controlled breath. Lucy’s gaze lifted to mine, and I finally saw something in her expression that resembled an actual emotion. A whole constellation of them, in fact, warring with each other as they flashed across her face. Uncertainty. Embarrassment. Concern. Maybe even a little guilt, although she composed herself again before I could be sure about that one.
Still, that one fleeting glimpse acted like a splash of cool, soothing water on all the overheated parts of my brain. I wasn’t the only one struggling here. This wasn’t easy for her either. She was simply a lot better at hiding her discomfort than I was.
She lowered her eyes and smoothed the front of her blouse. It was brown and gauzy, covered with tiny pink flowers, and her fingernails were painted almost the exact same shade of pink.
“Do you think…” she began, her voice lower and softer than before. Her fingers twisted in her lap as her eyes lifted again, and I saw more of that same uncertainty. “Could we talk for a minute? In private?”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
She got to her feet and inclined her head for me to follow. We went into a nearby conference room, and she closed the door behind us. I didn’t know what to do with my hands while I waited for her to say whatever she’d brought me in here to say. I tried crossing my arms, but that felt too hostile. Letting them hang at my sides was too awkward, so I shoved my hands into my pockets.
Lucy turned to face me, still grasping the door handle. She was eight inches shorter than me, so she had to tip her head back to meet my eyes. “I don’t understand why you’re here. You’re a regional account manager. You work in sales.”
“Not anymore. I’ve been reassigned.”
“Why?”
I understood why she wanted an explanation, but I didn’t want to tell her. My gaze dropped to the floor while I considered and discarded various lies. There wasn’t a good way to explain a demotion this big, and I’d only look more pathetic for lying about it.
“It was decided that I’d be more useful in another job,” I said as diplomatically as I could.
Lucy blinked her soft brown lashes at me as she parsed the truth behind my careful phrasing, too smart not to understand the implication. Her expression shifted into something most people would probably describe as kindness. But all I saw was pity, and it made me feel about as worthless as that wad of gum stuck to the underside of the locker room bench.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That sucks.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “I never liked sales anyway.”
“I remember.” Those two little words, spoken so gently, pierced my chest like a poisoned Nazgûl blade. “Did you ask to come work in marketing?”
“With you? No.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how harsh they sounded. How bitter. How much of an asshole I must seem to her.
And here she was, trying to be kind.
She winced like I’d poked a bruise, and another flash of guilt crossed her face.
“I mean…” I flailed to express myself better, remembering when I used to be a nicer person than this. “I never would have asked to work in your department, because I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Her chin dipped in acknowledgement—or maybe gratitude. “And yet, here you are.” An attempt at lightness, but one that sounded forced.
“My dad had me reassigned to the theme park. But Josie offered to find me something else and”—I grimaced, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck—“I wasn’t in a position to turn her down.”
Lucy nodded slowly. “Can I ask, does Josie know about us? About our history?”
“No. She has no idea we were ever…” I couldn’t decide which word would be the least painful way to describe what we’d been, so I settled on: “Acquainted.”
Another small wince cracked her expression before she recovered enough to give me a dubious look. “So it was pure chance that you ended up on my team?”
“I swear. I had no idea what she had planned for me until she took me into Byron’s office this morning.” I needed Lucy to believe me. I might be a bitter asshole, but I didn’t want her to think I’d arranged this on purpose to get close to her or get back at her or anything else she might be suspecting. “I was as surprised and dismayed as I imagine you were.”
Her hands smoothed her shirt again. A nervous habit, I realized. One I hadn’t noticed when we’d been dating. Maybe because she hadn’t had reason to be nervous around me before. The thought that she did now made me sad.
A determined muscle clenched in her jaw. “So we both agree this situation is less than ideal. But I suppose it can’t be helped. We’re stuck with each other.”
“It can be helped. If you’re too uncomfortable working with me, I’ll tell Josie I can’t take the job.”
It would probably destroy any respect my sister might have for me and burn one of my last lifelines at the company, but I wasn’t willing to make Lucy’s life a living hell in order to make mine a little better. She shouldn’t have to pay the price for the mess I’d made of my career. This job actually meant something to her. I remembered the way she used to talk about it. She’d gone to college for marketing. This was her dream career. I wouldn’t be the one to ruin it for her. I wasn’t that much of a bitter asshole.
Lucy shook her head. “I don’t want Josie to know—”
“I don’t have to tell her. I can make up a reason that doesn’t involve you.”
“No.” Lucy’s lips pressed together, pink and glossy, and I couldn’t help remembering how it had felt to kiss her. “I can’t let you do that. I don’t think you’d be here if you felt like you had a choice.”
“Everyone always has a choice.”
“Still.” Her voice was softer. “You need this job, don’t you?”
“Maybe,” I admitted.
She nodded. “I need this job too. Which means we’ll both have to make the best of it and try to get along. Do you think you can do that?”
“Yes.”
“Then I need you to make more of an effort to be pleasant. I can’t have you glaring at me all day long like you hate me.”