“Wow…” Luke’s eyes darted quickly between paragraphs. After a moment, he lifted the first page and glanced at the second. “You’re certainly heavy-handed in your metaphors.”
I stared at him. That was exactly the same criticism Dr. Cole had made in her critique of my initial draft of the paper.
I snapped out of my trance and ripped my papers out of his hands. Luke still looked deeply amused, and I wanted to say something to wipe the smirk off his lips. I stuck my finger in his face, which surprised him, if nothing else.
“At least I got in here fair and square,” I said. “And not just because my father went here and gave the college a bunch of money.”
Luke looked like he had an answer to that, but before he could give it, I jumped out of my seat and marched right out of the classroom. I had the last word that day, but the truth is, I wasn’t sure if I believed what I said. I was beginning to realize Luke deserved to be there just as much as I did.
_____
Due to my long lunch, I end up staying late at work to get that report done for work. I’ve always been an overachiever, and now is not the time to be slacking—not just for me, but for the sake of my entire division. Luke probably wouldn’t fire me but I don’t want any of my team to get fired either. They’re counting on me.
I finally turn off my computer and gather my belongings to head out for the day, when I realize I’m not alone. Nathan is standing outside my office. He has sprouted small pit stains over the course of the day, and his comb-over looks damp as well. Nathan is one of those people who sweats excessively during the day.
“Hey, Ellie,” he says.
“Hello, Nathan,” I say, but I avoid his eyes. He’s never been my favorite person, but that remark Luke made about him saying his project was the best and should be saved, to hell with the rest of us… Well, it doesn’t entirely surprise me.
“Heading out?” he asks.
I don’t know why he’s asking me that. I’ve got my purse on my shoulder and I’m leaving my office. I’m obviously heading out. “Yes.”
“Um, Ellie?”
I look at him—he’s rubbing at the back of his sweaty neck. “Yes?”
“I was just thinking,” he says, “maybe we should get a few drinks together and talk about, like, our plan for the company. We need to work together if we don’t want to get fired.”
My stomach turns. I’ve got a bad feeling that his idea to get drinks is less about strategizing to keep our jobs, and more about him jamming his tongue down my throat when we’ve both got a few beers in us. I’m way too old to fall for that trick. “I’ve got plans,” I lie.
“Really?” Nathan raises his eyebrows at me.
Am I just the worst liar on the face of the planet? Or is it obvious I can’t possibly have a life outside of work? “Really.”
“Oh.” Nathan looks disappointed, and for a moment, I feel guilty. Then I remember what a jerk he is, and how he’s the last person in the world I’d want to go out with.
During my T ride home, I entertain myself by coming up with fake plans for the evening. In case anyone asks me about it, I went to a bachelorette party in a bar. My gift to the bride was a red thong.
I stop off for a takeout order of pad thai from the restaurant down the block from my building. I try to slip by Sadie’s apartment unnoticed with my piping hot bag of noodles, but as usual, she catches me in the act.
“Ellie!” she exclaims when she sees me.
I halt guiltily. “Hi, Sadie.”
She stares at the brown paper bag. “Is that Chinese takeout?”
“No…” I say. “It’s Thai.”
Sadie sighs. “Oh, Ellie, how do you expect to find a beau if you don’t cook?”
“I cook,” I say defensively. I do! Mostly stuff in the microwave. That counts though. I mean, I have to press a button that says “cook” so that means it’s cooking.
Sadie squints up at my face. “Are you wearing makeup, dear?”
I touch my face self-consciously. “No… well, just a little.”
A slow smile spreads across Sadie’s wrinkled face. “There’s a man you like, isn’t there?”
“No,” I say quickly. Maybe too quickly.
“Don’t worry,” Sadie says. “I’ll give you a cooking lesson this weekend and you’ll have him wrapped around your little finger in no time.”
Before I can tell her not to bother, Sadie rushes off into her apartment, probably to look up sexy recipes.
She is absolutely wrong about this one. I don’t like Luke. Yes, I did put on make-up, which I don’t usually do, but that was just to look respectable for my boss. It was an innocent gesture.
I swear.
Chapter 7
From Facebook:
Luke Thayer should be put in prison for his crimes against the small businesses he acquires and destroys. The man has no humanity. Like this post if you agree.
(This post was liked by 749 people.)
Just to prove a point, I’m not wearing a scrap of make-up to work the next day, even though Luke emails me to show up at his office at eleven. Our relationship is strictly business—that’s abundantly clear. Whatever happened in the past is in the past.
Jenna comes into my office just as I’m printing out my data for Luke. She’s got an issue with her code, which isn’t atypical, but I don’t have time. “I’ll help you in the afternoon,” I tell her. “I’ve got a meeting with Luke Thayer now.”
“Oh!” She looks me up and down, noting that I’m wearing my usual slacks and dress shirt. “You know, I saw him coming back from lunch yesterday.”
I know where this is going, and I don’t have time for it. “Mmm.”
“I didn’t realize he’s… you know…” She lowers her voice. “Disabled.”
“Yeah,” I mumble.
“He’s in bad shape.” She shakes her head. “No wonder he’s so bitter and cold.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Bitter and cold?”
“Well, I don’t know.” She shrugs. “That’s what people say about him. I mean, he’s definitely not a good guy. That’s why everyone here is so freaked out.”
“I don’t think he’s as bad as people think,” I say. “Anybody famous is going to get internet hate these days. I mean, you can’t even post a picture of your kids without somebody saying that you’re committing child abuse.”
Jenna snorts. “Well, people on the internet really hate Luke Thayer.”
I can’t disagree with her.
“I heard he was in an accident of some sort when he was in his twenties,” she says. “He’s, like, a quadriplegic or something. You know those guys can’t even feel their dicks?”
I suck in a breath. No, I didn’t know that. Luke can’t feel his dick? That seems like such a crime. For a moment, I allow myself to think back to that night so many years ago, the way he leaned forward and…
“So he has to exert his power in other ways, I guess,” she says, “since he can’t get it up anymore.”