“Gentlemen,” a hushed voice interrupts. Both of us turn to see a shocked Alexandra striding toward us. The heels of her shoes tap against the tiled flooring like our own screwed up death march theme. As soon as I take in the look on her face, I know I’m in deep shit.
“If you have private things to talk about, I suggest you discuss them in private,” she states sharply.
The anger is still pulsing through my veins from Conner’s comment, but I make sure to rein it in. Losing my internship would be the cherry on top of a giant clusterfu—
“I’m sorry,” Conner interrupts my thoughts. “I don’t know what came over us.”
I do.
Rage. Jealousy. Bitterness. The list goes on.
My voice is soft and laced with regret as I murmur, “I’m sorry too, Alexandra. You’re right. It won’t happen again.”
Greg rounds the corner as the apology slides past my lips. I’m positive he’s about to tell me to pack my things and get the hell out of here for being so unprofessional. Sensing the commotion he’s walked into, Greg stalls near my cubicle.
“There a problem here, Alexandra?” the fifty-year-old asks while adjusting his black-rimmed glasses.
“Not at all. Just trying to ring in a few more volunteers for the grand opening.”
“I’m sure they’d be more than happy to offer a helping hand. Wouldn’t you, gentlemen?”
“Of course.”
“Definitely.”
Satisfied, Greg gives a brisk nod then continues on his way, leaving us alone to sort out our shit. Alexandra, however, hasn’t moved an inch as her eyes bounce between me and Asshat Conner like a damn pinball.
“Levi, will you please come to my office so we can work out a few of the details for the Jelani Arts Center opening?” The edge in her voice encourages me not to argue, even though I want nothing more than to shove Conner outside and hit him in the face.
It was only a kiss. A kiss that I practically forced to happen. But still.
My nostrils flare, and my fists squeeze at my sides.
“Levi?” Alexandra presses.
I give her a single, jerky nod. “Sure thing.”
The click-clack of her heels battle the buzzing in my ears as she guides me to her office. Once I’m inside, she closes the door behind me then motions to the chair opposite her desk.
“Take a seat.”
I do as I’m told and rest my ass against the edge of the seat.
“So,” she begins, lacing her perfectly manicured fingers on top of her pristinely organized oak desk. When I notice her professionally colored nails, I can’t help but compare them to Charlie’s. Hers wouldn’t last a week with polish. And I don’t think I’d have it any other way.
“What the hell was that out there?” she asks, grabbing my attention from her intertwined fingers.
“Like you said,” I mutter. “Private stuff.”
“Did it happen to have anything to do with a pretty girl from Get Baked?”
Brows raising in surprise, I shift in my seat. “How did you know?”
“I overheard Conner talking about it a few days ago. How long has he been dating your friend?”
“They’re not dating,” I practically growl.
“Conner seems to think differently. And by the way you’re reacting, I’m going to say you’re not okay with it.”