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The Favor

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Just then, the two obnoxious o-Verve guys who’d disappeared to the bar returned to our group. One of them, Jeff, stumbled backwards, almost knocking into a server who held a tray of colorful drinks above her head.

Laughing at himself, Jeff slumped into the chair opposite me. His eyes hardened when they met mine. “Ah, Vienna, Vienna, Vienna. You know, I really didn’t take you for a gold-digger.”

Wow, he’d really gone there. I mean, he’d been hinting at it all evening in a jokey way, but I hadn’t thought he’d actually come right out and say it.

Hanna flapped her hand in his direction. “Go away, Jeff. You’re an ugly drunk.”

He frowned. “I’m not drunk. I’m just being blunt.” He pointed his beer bottle at me. “I remember I asked you out years ago. You told me you never mix business with pleasure. I should have known you’d break that rule for a guy if he had a big enough bank balance.”

I cocked my head. “Is that what you tell yourself? Does it make you feel better to think I broke my rule for Dane purely because he’s rich, not because I thought he was worth breaking it but didn’t believe the same of you?”

Jeff’s face reddened. “I’m only saying what everyone else in the company is thinking.”

Hanna sat up straight. “I’m not thinking it.”

“Neither am I,” said one of the other guys.

“Nor me,” another man piped up.

Smirking, Jeff dragged his chair closer to the table and leaned toward me. “Don’t listen to them, Vienna. They talk smack about you when you’re not there. All the teams do.”

“If that was the case, it would say everything about them and absolutely nothing about me,” I said.

The guy beside Jeff—who’d made just as many sly remarks as him—put a hand on Jeff’s shoulder and said, “Pipe down. This isn’t worth losing your job over.”

Jeff shrugged off his friend’s hand and snorted. “Dane’s not going to fire me. He was talking about promoting me.”

“And a few words from her could make you miss out on that promotion,” his friend persisted.

Jeff made a dismissive sound. “Like she has any sway over him.” He sliced his gaze back to me. “How’d you get him to propose anyway? Pretend to be pregnant?”

I sighed. “Seriously, if being an asshole burned calories, you’d be fucking anorexic. Now maybe we could talk about something other than me and Dane. Like how Hanna’s birthday went yesterday.”

“Or maybe we could get you to admit that you only want Davenport for his money,” said Jeff.

I drained the last of my drink. “You know, your parents should have tossed you over a cliff and just kept the stork.”

“Here, fucking here,” muttered Hanna.

Jeff flashed me an ugly smirk. “You haven’t once denied you want him for his money.”

“What would be the point?” I asked, idly twirling my glass. “You’ll believe whatever your itty, bitty ego—which, let’s face it, is the equivalent of a fragile, sensitive, hormonal teenager—needs you to believe. Who am I to mess with that?”

“Who indeed,” said Hanna, all haughty. “She just wasn’t into you, Jeff. Deal with it and stop being a dick.”

“Women are such bitches,” he sniped.

Every female at the table bristled at the generalization. Jeff did not realize it, but he’d united us all that easily.

Hanna lifted her hand. “Hang on a sec. You’re the one acting like an ass, but women are in the wrong purely because they called you on it?”

I sighed. “Ever notice how women always get the blame for men being dicks? Their mom didn’t hug them enough, the girls at school made fun of them, their adult ex-girlfriends jilted them, their ex-wives used to nag at them. And if you reject a guy, it can’t possibly mean you simply don’t like him—no, it means you’re stuck up or a frigid bitch or something.”

Rachel nodded. “I’ve noticed that. It’s pretty ridiculous.”

“I know,” agreed Hanna. “You fear turning a guy down because it’s possible he’ll get ugly and make a scene.”

“I get that it’s hard for men to make a move,” began Lianne, “they have to suck in their insecurities and put themselves out there; that can’t be easy. But it doesn’t make us bitches if we politely say no.”

“Yup,” I agreed. “Don’t get me wrong, not all men do it. Some will take it with grace. But those that don’t? They ruin the dating scene for everyone else.”

Jeff thumped his bottle of beer down on the table. “How did we go from discussing Vienna whoring herself to men being assholes?”

I clenched my fists. “Jeff, stop.”

“Stop what? Speaking the truth?”

“Seriously, Jeff, just shut the fuck up.”

“Why? You can’t handle being called out for what you are?”

“You really need to stop talking.”

“And you need to stop being a gold-digger, sweetheart. But life doesn’t always work out the way it should.”



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