The Office Rival: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

“Pretty? C’mon, Pres, you can do better than that.”

“I’m not your friend, so cut the nickname bullshit. Honestly, Haden, let me go. Despite what Jason’s done, I need to go home.”

He lets me go, and defeated, I straighten my arm.

“I’m not surprised he strayed. You need to pull that stick out of your ass and put something else in there instead, Ice Queen.”

What did he just call me? I’d heard a rumor that someone in the office had dubbed me Ice Queen, but it never occurred to me it was him. I let out a fake laugh as I watch his cocky grin quickly disappear.

“It will be a cold day in hell before you’re attached to the end of any stick coming near me.”

He closes the gap between our bodies. I never paid attention to how tall he is until he stands head to head, facing me. Running his finger along my chin, he leans in and whispers in the softest voice, “Frigid little Presley couldn’t please her man. Small Dick probably got fed up with you.”

And with that, there is no holding back. I step away to gain some distance and swing my fist in his face to connect with his jaw.

Bam.

Game over.

Four

I run so fast from him, still reeling from the fact I had punched him in the mouth. The adrenaline is coursing through my veins at a rapid rate, and when I make it home, I slam the door hard, terrified yet somehow exhilarated from the excitement of it all. Collapsing onto my bed, my knuckles begin to throb in pain. Seeking comfort in an ice pack and a bottle of red will do the trick.

What was I thinking?

Somehow, I allowed the anger and uncertainty to build up, so it was only a matter of time before I flew off the handle. How stupid was I to think Jason would sit around and not look for another woman? The hurt and jealousy are so much more painful than I anticipated, to the point that I was driven to punch Haden after his tactless comment.

Does he have a point, though? No, the Jerk is clutching straws and has no sense of decency. He has it in for me, God knows why, and the bottom line is I have to watch my back. The cunning bastard is probably used to getting his way no matter who he steps on. I bet he is vying for a promotion, trying to take me out of the running. Well, take that, asshole! I doubt he’ll be able to get laid with a face like that, especially when he admits a woman hit him.

Nothing sounds more appealing than a quiet night in, but Vicky rushes over the second I call her to tell her what happened. Before I know it, the bottle of wine is empty, and Vicky will be my savior tonight.

“Pres, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t, that’s the big problem. I don’t think about consequences anymore.” I shake my head at myself, staring at the wall, trying to figure out where the Presley Malone I’ve known my whole life has disappeared to. “When I was with Jason, everything was so easy. I didn’t have to think. We had a routine, and life was simple.”

“How boring. Be honest for a split second. Wasn’t this a tad bit exciting?”

Vicky is my best friend. I can’t lie to her face. “Even if it was, I can’t go around punching every man in the city. I’ll end up in jail and fed to the lesbians.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” Vicky winks.

That catches my attention, but I’m not going to delve into Vicky’s wild sexual history—not tonight anyway. Plus, I will probably need more than a night.

“I’m going to end up an old lady surrounded by cats.” I nestle my head against her arm. “Promise me you’ll stop me when there are too many cats?”

Vicky chuckles. “Honey, the only pussy you have is the one currently filling up with cobwebs. I’m glad you decided to go out tonight, although you may need to sober up a little, or we won’t be able to get in anywhere.”

“I’m fineee,” I slur.

“I’ll whip up something to eat. Go have a shower, and by then, you will be fineee,” Vicky mimics.

Two hours later, I am fed and dressed, and we are standing at the bar ordering shots. Vicky’s omelet had some magic ingredient to sober me up enough I was able to put on a tight red dress and apply some makeup without looking like a circus freak. Vicky looks gorgeous dressed in a short white number enhancing her olive skin. Being tall, she doesn’t need pumps, and when she wears them, she is a goddess on legs with curves in all the right places. Men are naturally drawn to her which makes me feel like the third wheel.

“Slippery nipples?” she asks.

“What the hell, Vicky?”

She laughs, placing her arm around me. “It’s a drink.”