The Office Rival: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

“Well, what I saw wasn’t nice. He looked like a wreck, Pres. I mean, a scruffy-looking hairy man who probably hasn’t seen a mirror or a razor in a while. He rivaled Bigfoot.”

“Maybe that’s the look he wants at his wedding.”

She sighs. “You’re not helping me here.”

“Helping you do what?”

“He looks like shit because he misses you, Presley. And he knows he’s a jerk and said jerk-like things to you. I don’t know why he is marrying her if he loves you. It doesn’t make sense.”

“He doesn’t love me. End of story. Now can we please talk about something else?”

I bite down on a tortilla chip, avoiding Vicky’s penetrating gaze. She knows me well enough to know this is a sore subject. She can tell, not only because I’m avoiding making eye contact, but also because I do that nervous twirl of my hair around my finger thing and constantly tap my foot against the floor.

I swiftly change subjects. “So, I’ve lined up a part-time job at Lantern Publishing in L.A. I’ll be working four days a week. Three days in the office and one day from home. Luckily, Gemma works from home as a graphic designer, so she jumped at the chance to take care of Masen till he’s old enough to go to daycare.”

“Sounds like you have it all planned out. Just like the old Presley,” Vicky counters with her eyebrows raised.

Taken aback by her tone and comment, I place my fork down and wipe my mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that nothing’s changed. Yes, you’ve had a baby, but you’ve turned back into Miss Plan-My-Whole-Life-Out Presley. It was fun being around you when you stopped giving a shit and just lived for the moment. The Jerk changed you in ways you haven’t bothered to notice.”

“Well, not giving a shit and living for the moment ends up with a broken heart. I’m sick of this. I just want to go live my life without all the drama.”

“What about me?” she pouts jokingly.

“What about you?”

“Will you miss my drama?”

I laugh and lean over to squeeze her perfectly manicured hand. “That’s the only thing I’ll miss. You and Kate with your constant man drama. I’m going to have to take up watching soap operas to get my fill.”

“I love you, Pres. Thank you for being my best friend. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you just around the corner.”

“Ditto.” I smile back. “Now stop moping because you’re flying to visit me next weekend.”

“I’m excited! I’ve never been to L.A., and there’s so much I want to do.” She pulls out a piece of paper from her bag and places it in front of me. “So, here is a list I made of things I want to do, time permitting.”

I hold my palm in front of her face. “Stop the press. Vicky made a list?”

“Are you proud of me? Mama Presley taught me well.”

“So, you can teach an old dog new tricks.” I laugh.

We fall into a fit of laughter until the cute waiter returns with our lunch. Despite Vicky’s attempt to be organized, I’m not the least bit surprised when she follows the cute waiter back to the bar and asks him for his number.

I arrive back at the apartment and see that Liz hasn’t returned just yet. It is almost dark, and I’m starting to worry about them. Not wanting to call Haden, I find Liz’s number in my phone and dial it immediately. It rings for a while before going to voicemail, only adding to my concern. I scroll through the cont

acts and land on Haden’s number. Just as I am about to hit the call button, a tap on the door startles me, and I scramble to open it, glad to see Liz and Masen on the other side. I unbuckle Masen from his stroller and lift him into my arms. Bringing him up to my face, I smell his hair, and my nerves are non-existent with my baby finally back in my arms.

“I’m sorry we’re late, sweetie. Haden just wanted some extra time with him.”

“He could have told me.”

“I know. He has a lot on his mind right now,” she defends him. “So, listen, he asked me to give this to you.”

She hands me a piece of paper, and I open it up to find a calendar for the next three months. My eyes divert to the boxes marked in red. In print, it says, “Eloise and Haden.”

“What’s this?” I ask, confused.