Roll Against Regret (3d20)

by Allyson Lindt

  A nagging voice in the back of my head reminded me this wasn’t how no-strings worked. This wasn’t closure; it was going to be a new kind of pain in the morning. I smothered the doubt. Right now, it was exactly what I wanted, and I didn’t think Jackson or Carter minded.

  ****

  I woke up before the guys the next morning. Without the haze of desire clouding my thoughts, reality rushed back in. How were we going to walk away from this? Or maybe I was the only one with a problem. Neither of them had seemed fazed by much of what happened yesterday. I steeled myself against a wave of doubt. I could be cool about this. Sever ties with Carter and make the night before exactly what it was supposed to be.

  I extracted myself from the pile of limbs, careful not to disturb either one of my—the guys. I kissed them both on the cheek, grabbed one of my spare T-shirts from Jackson’s drawers, and cut a straight line for my car. I could have gotten ready for work here, I had enough stuff at Jackson’s place, but I needed time to compose myself. A breather, to cement my resolve.

  By the time I made it home, I had convinced myself this was good. Last night had been amazing—I didn’t question that. Even amid everything else, I didn’t regret it. And I was fine this morning. There were amazing memories, but nothing else had to change. Things would be great.

  I had finished showering and getting dressed, and was on my way back to my car, when Jackson texted me.

  Missed you this morning.

  I smiled at the sentiment, and sent back a reply. Too much to do at work. Sorry I had to run out.

  He got back to me seconds later. No worries. Don’t let Mark give you any shit. You coming over tonight?

  That was a good idea. It would be part of getting things back to normal. Just like pasting on a smile for Carter at work, and dialing everything between us back to ‘friendly.’

  Absolutely, I wrote.

  There. That had been status quo. Nothing had changed. We’d all be good. And if I said it enough times, over and over in my head, ιt would make it true.

  Chapter Ten

  I settled into my desk a few minutes early. My mind was hopping a million miles a minute now, still working over everything I tried not to think about. I was wired now, but I’d be dragging by this afternoon. I hoped things went as smoothly with Carter, once he got here, as they had with Jackson. Which made me wonder how they’d gotten along this morning, waking up in the same bed.

  In a way, I wished I could have seen it.

  “Hey, boss.” Carter pushed a chair into my cubicle, and dropped into it. He still hadn’t shaved. I wouldn’t focus on how sexy that was on him. Wouldn’t let it summon memories of the stubble burning against my skin.

  I slid a smile into place more easily than I expected. I was happy to see him, even with the conflict raging inside. “Morning.” Would he be obnoxious? Push some kind of confrontation about last night? Was I hoping for that? Because backing down wasn’t the Carter I remembered. Then again, I’d changed. He had to have, as well.

  “What’s on the docket for the day?” He stayed at a reasonable distance—not too far away, but not close enough for me to sense him.

  “I assume more of the same, unless someone told you otherwise.”

  He leaned in, and his barely-there cologne teased my senses. He whispered, “I missed you this morning, but I get it. And thank you for last night.”

  Ambivalence spiked my heart. So many things I could say. I could ask… I didn’t even know. All my options would draw out the situation. “Same for me.”

  He straightened again, and leaned back in his chair. “That’s non-specific.”

  I shrugged. It was, but I didn’t have anything better. Was the whole day going to be like this?

  “Erikson.” Mark’s bark carried halfway across the room, and several heads turned toward his office. “Conference room O-49. Reception can tell you where it is. I need you in the Granwald launch meeting today.

  I’d held my tongue with Mark Kitner for months now, never arguing in public, and only rarely rocking the boat over email or through third parties, but I was tired, and this was bullshit. I stood. “Granwald’s my account.” I made sure my voice reached him, not caring who heard. “I worked with sales for months, to secure them.”

  “Sutton, my office. Erikson, fourth floor, window side, O-49.”

  Carter shot me an apologetic look, and his hand shifted toward mine. He flexed his fingers, and then turned away without making contact.

  I ground my teeth and kept my back straight, gaze locked on my target, as I marched into Kitner’s office.

  He closed the door behind me and nodded to a seat. “You don’t want to do this in front of everyone.”

  I didn’t sit. “Why not?” Apparently exhaustion had zapped more of my filters than I realized. “It’s not like they’re not all talking about it anyway.”

  Expression calm, Mark sank into his chair and leaned back, one ankle propped on the other knee. “We don’t typically give new clients to analysts who are falling behind with their old ones.”

  I knew this ploy. I’d been on the other side of it when he’d pulled it with Ryan. But I’d watched my back and made sure I couldn’t be set up. “All of my work is in and accounted for.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Fuck, what had I missed?

  “Because the Zedophap audit is tomorrow, and I was just in the file share. It’s not looking good.”

  The wheels in my brain wobbled, and bile rose in my throat. “Audit?”

  Mark widened his eyes. “The one I told the entire team about, two weeks ago? They don’t like the way we’ve handled their account, and have ordered a full internal audit of our records with them to date.”

  I would have argued that maybe if he stopped swapping out analysts because he was a petty asshole who took his personal problems out on employees, they might not have an issue with the way their account had been handled. My mind still whirred over the claim I’d known about this for weeks. It was definitely the first time I’d heard about it. “What do I need to do?”

  “Go through their documents and make sure all the most recent versions are checked into the system. The normal work. It just has to be done by tomorrow, but I know you’re on top of it, so that won’t be a problem.”

  “Of course.” Sugar dripped from my voice. “We’ll be fine.”

  Eyes were on me when I stalked from his office. I didn’t care. Any obstacle Mark threw at me, I’d climb and conquer. When I left this company, it would be on my terms, not because he forced me out of my job.

  I settled in front of my computer and grabbed the folder Tasha had handed me the other day. I would have finished the project yesterday, but I’d been training the new guy. Not that any of this was Carter’s fault. Irritation burned away the lingering traces of sleepy, confused fog in my brain, and I honed in on my work.

  I kept on top of these things, so it wasn’t like I’d be here all night. Being done by tomorrow would be a piece of cake.

  I opened the document management system and clicked through to the Zedophap files. My insides twisted in on themselves at the chaos that greeted me. Locking errors, file missing warnings, and out-of-date alerts.

  He’d had to fuck me one last time. No. I breathed deeply through my nose and forced myself to exhale slowly. I would handle this and still get out of here on time.

  I couldn’t ignore the minutes ticking by, as I worked my way through individual files. For the audit, every document stored had to be the most recent one, and match exactly between the email archive and here. Contracts, data configurations, everything. Some looked okay. But I had to open most individually and do manual comparisons, to make sure the correct version was saved in both systems. It wasn’t as simple as just picking the email version and saving it over again, because the timestamps and digital date trail had to match as well.

  As the clock crept up on noon and I wasn’t even a quarter of the way done, I had to admit a sliver of defeat. Not that I was giving
up, but something would have to go. I sent Jackson a quick text. I’m going to be very late tonight. I’m sorry.

  It took a few minutes for him to reply. It’s okay. Can I bring you dinner or anything?

  That would be nice. Take a break, spend some time with him, and get back to work. But I knew I wouldn’t get anything done that way. It would be too tempting to let work slip. I’d love that, but no. The faster I finish, the faster I’ll be there.

  Seconds later, my phone rang, his picture smirking at me from the screen. “Hey.” I answered with a smile, locked my computer, and strode toward a more private part of the building.

  “You can’t eat vending-machine food for dinner.”

  The concern in his words warmed me. “It wouldn’t be the first time. It’ll be a nice complement to its twin lunch.”

  “Is this really work, or just a specific coworker?”

  Ice rolled through my veins at what he was implying, and a retort died in my throat. I didn’t even know how to respond to that.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” Jackson said.

  “The two of you are such good friends now. Why don’t you invite him over tonight?” I struggled to keep the bitterness from my voice, and failed. “Put your mind at ease, decide more of my future while you’re at it.” I didn’t want to fight with Jackson, but I wasn’t letting a comment like that slide.

  “Pixie, no. That was the wrong thing for me to say. I don’t want to argue.”

  “I have to go.”

  “Wait. Come over tonight, no matter how late you are. Even if it’s three in the morning. It’ll be just you and me.”

  I could tell him no. Make him suffer a little longer, for the bullshit jealousy, but it meant he cared. Besides, maybe I’d call in tomorrow. Let everyone else deal with the audit I hadn’t been told about. Sleep in. Spend the day with Jackson. I knew I wouldn’t—we were both too responsible to skip work like that—but it was a nice fantasy. Still, I did need to see him. “All right. I’ll be there.”

  Chapter Eleven

  One by one, the desks around me emptied, and people called their goodnights to each other. Office lights clicked off, half the overheads dimmed, and the ambient chatter of phone calls faded. I’d made it more than halfway through my document list. It was only a mess because someone had sabotaged it, but I didn’t have the time to prove that and still finish before tomorrow.

  As it was, I really might not make it to Jackson’s until three in the morning.

  Tasha, Ryan, and his roommate Seth stopped at my desk. “You’re here late.” Tasha sounded sympathetic.

  “Prepping for the audit tomorrow.” I couldn’t keep the exhaustion from my face. “How long have you known about it?” Come to think of it, why wasn’t she panicking and rushing to finish things last minute?

  Tasha shrugged. “A couple of weeks.”

  The information added another layer of tiredness to my brain. Maybe I’d actually missed the announcement. “I didn’t find out until today.”

  She frowned and leaned forward, arms on the cubicle. “Kitner said he was handling it, or I would have told you. Gods, I’m so sorry.”

  Of course he had. “Don’t worry about it. Karma’s a bitch, right?”

  Ryan held his hand toward Tasha. “I rode in with Seth this morning. Are you okay to leave me your keys and go home with him?”

  She handed them over without question. “Absolutely. You’re staying then?”

  “I’m stubborn, not cruel. I’ll see you at home.” He kissed her on the cheek. It was the most obvious affection I’d ever seen between the two of them. Elders, I hoped Jackson and I could keep that. When he squeezed Seth’s hand too, I widened my eyes but kept my mouth shut. That was too tender a gesture to be between just roommates.

  Seth and Tasha left, and Ryan dragged over the chair Carter had been using. “Tell me where you’re at, what you’re doing, and how I can help.”

  “Why?” I shouldn’t be challenging the offer, but considering he’d all but ignored me until a few days ago and someone had helped Kitner set me up, I had to know.

  “Because otherwise, you’ll be here for the rest of eternity?”

  He was right, but it didn’t answer my question. “No. Why help me? I’m not dim. I know what I did, even though I didn’t mean to do it. You’re not the only one paying the price, and Tasha is struggling too.”

  “Work shouldn’t be personal,” Ryan said, as if it were the most obvious statement ever. “Kitner makes it that, and he’s wrong. You shouldn’t have to pay the price for doing what was right.”

  I scooted my chair aside, to let him see my screen. “I’m doing the most tedious task on the face of the planet. Now’s your last chance to back out.”

  “Nope. He deserves to suffer as much as you shouldn’t have to. Give me the bottom half of what’s left.”

  I grabbed the last sheet of paper from my folder and handed it over. “Thank you.” I didn’t spend time explaining what I needed—his job was the same as mine, he was familiar with the details.

  “No worries.” Seconds later, I heard him sit at his own desk, and his mouse clicks joined mine.

  My mind chewed on something while I worked, but I wasn’t sure what. It nagged at the back of my thoughts, trying to force its way past document comparison. Something about Ryan. What, though? Not that he was helping, though I definitely owed him lunch for that. And probably Tasha and Seth too.

  My thoughts skidded to a stop, a mini loop playing over and over. Ryan saying he loved Tasha and S— It was Tasha and Seth. No. I shook the thought aside. People didn’t do things like that. Especially not Ryan. The entire reason Mark hated him was because he’d slept with Kitner’s ex-wife at some company party, years ago. Ryan was as completely hetero as anyone I’d ever met. And that meant Tasha…

  I couldn’t wrap my brain around the logic. This wasn’t the time to puzzle over it, anyway. I dove back into my work and tried to obliterate my rambling curiosity, but it gnawed at me.

  Ryan’s chair creaked, and seconds later, he stood in front of my cube, holding out a sheet of paper. “Next?”

  I swapped out his lists, and couldn’t help studying him. Was I missing something? Not like it would be written on him somewhere, but I needed information he had.

  He snapped his fingers. “What’s up?”

  I shook my questions away. There was work to do. “Nothing.”

  He dropped back into his seat, and clicking resumed. “It didn’t look like nothing. Do I have ink on my face?”

  It was almost eight, so no one was left in the office. That meant, even though he sat several desks away, we could talk in a normal voice, without being overheard. “No. I was just thinking…”

  “I figured.”

  I worked while I dragged up words, operating on auto-pilot. “You and Seth are close?”

  There was a long pause before he replied, hesitation in his voice. “We’re best friends. Besides, you live with a guy long enough…”

  I knew where the unfinished thought was going, but I wanted confirmation of what was underneath, even if I didn’t know why it was so important to me. “But the whole hand-squeeze thing is more of an intimate gesture.”

  He gave a short laugh. “You caught that.”

  “Never before today.” I clicked open the next file and started the automated comparison.

  A long silence filled the room. Had I pissed him off? I didn’t want that, and not just because he was helping. It was nice to finally be on speaking terms with him again.

  I almost jumped when he finally replied. “Because it’s not something we tell anyone about. Hint, hint.”

  All the pieces were in front of me, so why couldn’t I put them together? “I thought you and Tasha…” The puzzle formed and clicked. “All three of you? How’s that work?”

  “Amazingly well.” He spoke so quietly I had to strain to hear him. “It takes twice as much work as a two-person relationship, but it’s worth it.”

  �
�I completely get that.” Did I? I couldn’t imagine sharing Jackson with anyone. “I couldn’t ever do it, but I have total respect for it. Also, it’s just between us. I promise.”

  “Thanks.” Relief lined his voice.

  “You’re lucky you’ve got that.” Odd thing for me to say. That was a given, right? But then I realized what I meant. “I don’t think I could temper two people at once. And… do you worry about what people say?” Saying the words sent an unexpected rush of sadness through me, and I gasped at the sharp pain it left in its wake.

  “There’s a reason we keep it quiet.”

  My grief twisted another notch. “That must suck. To love them and not be able to shout it from the rooftops.”

  “Really?” He sounded surprised. “You can’t imagine being in a relationship like that, but you can image proclaiming such a thing to the world. Walk a mile in my shoes, Zoe.”

  “You’re right. But you’re still lucky.” Silence descended again, as we dove back into our work .The conversation still spun in the back of my head, but with my curiosity sated, I could ignore it for the most part.

  ****

  It was almost midnight when I stepped into Jackson’s apartment. My brain might as well have been made of oatmeal, and I’d had to swap my contacts for glasses just to be able see on the drive.

  Jackson looked up from his spot on the sofa and immediately shut off the TV. He crossed the room, wrapped me in a hug, and just held me. Elders, I loved that feeling.

  “I didn’t mean what I said earlier.” His lips moved against my hair when he spoke.

  I’d almost forgotten about that. Somehow the conversation with Ryan had taken up residence in my head instead. “It’s done. It’s over.” Though I meant the phone conversation with him earlier, I had to fight the compulsion to clarify that was all I meant. Weird.

  He tugged me toward the couch, cringing when he extended his arm.

  “Are you all right?” Concern filled me at the pain in his expression.