Chapter Twelve
How did Emily let herself get sucked into this? She uncurled herself from the chair in Justin’s office that she’d fallen asleep in. Someone had draped her jacket over her at some point during the night, and it tumbled to the ground as she sat up.
She should have left after dinner last night, but the conversation turned back to work and brainstorming and which Batman franchise of movies was the best. She did a quick scan of the room and found Justin asleep on one of the couches. Heat flooded her cheeks as memories of what else happened on that couch rushed back. She’d need to learn to control that reaction before she had to be in here with someone else again.
Did Antonio go home? She didn’t blame him. She needed to do the same, shower, change, and get back here in time for her real shift.
She combed her fingers through her hair. Carrying her shoes, so they didn’t clack against the tile, she took the stairs down two floors. It was barely six, but she didn’t want to run into anyone while she still wore yesterday’s clothes. The lights were out, as she padded toward her desk, the only illumination coming from streetlights that streamed through the windows and the dark gray of the sky, as the sun teased the skyline.
Her cellphone sat on her desk, and she swiped it out of habit. A handful of messages from Cynthia waited for her, starting at midnight and trickling every hour or two.
It’s late. Making sure you’re all right.
You’re not home yet. You pick someone up again?
It’s 3. It’s Thursday. This isn’t like you.
Reply and tell me you’re alive.
Em, I swear to God, I’m calling the police if I don’t hear from you soon.
The last one was from about five minutes ago. Emily sent back a quick reply. I swear I’m all right. I’ll be home in thirty and give you the short version.
A reply came through before the light faded from her phone. You’d better.
Emily smiled at the concern and dropped the device in her purse. She turned and almost face-planted in Antonio’s chest. A startled squeak escaped her. Her shoes fell to the ground. “Shit. Sorry.” She settled her hand on her ribs, her heart hammering against her palm. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He put a few inches between them, a casual smile dancing on his lips. His hair clung damp and dark to his skin, and the faint scent of body wash teased her. “Justin and I have done this enough I’m in the habit of keeping a change of clothes on hand and using the showers in the gym downstairs. Both of us do that, actually.”
“You’re insane. You know that, don’t you?” she teased. Last night was fun, and working through problems was exhilarating, but she couldn’t fathom how Justin and Antonio had kept up a schedule like this for six months. After one night, she wanted all the coffee and a short day so she could go home and get some real sleep.
He chuckled. “I’ve been called worse. I’d offer you something to wear, in case you wanted to do the same, but...” He trailed his gaze over her, and goosebumps rose everywhere his eyes traveled. “Size differences aside, all I have left is a pair of sweat shorts—it’s been a long week—and your manager doesn’t take casual Friday quite that far.”
Maybe not, but he did justice to what he had. Instead of his standard dress shirt, tie, and slacks, he wore a T-shirt and jeans. She didn’t know which style of dress was more alluring, but this one gave her a glimpse of something she’d never noticed before. Justin wasn’t the only one with tattoos. A hint of what looked like scales peeked above the collar of Antonio’s shirt, though it was difficult to make out details in the dark.
She forced her fingers to stay by her side, rather than reach up and trace the ink. “I appreciate the offer, but my roommate is panicked. I have to get home anyway.”
“You’re coming back, though.” Despite his smile, seriousness bled into his statement. “No problems looking me in the eye?”
“I’m coming back. And no—I’m doing fine, thank you.” In fact, if she didn’t train her attention on his face, she’d be staring at the way his shirt hugged his torso and his jeans hung off his hips. Wondering what his ass looked like. His eyes were the safest place for her focus. She needed to stop. Sleeping with one was bad enough. Lusting after both... Well, it still didn’t seem detrimental, but it would get distracting really fast.
Antonio stepped aside and gave a short bow as he gestured to the doors. “I’m glad to hear it. See you in an hour or two.”
AS A GENERAL RULE, momentum kept Justin going. It prevented him from overthinking, from talking himself out of good ideas, and from backing down. Emily stalled that. She made him pause long enough to question things, and that was dangerous.
It meant he was wasting large parts of his Friday morning staring at his personal finances and the various pieces of the company forecast, instead of catching up on work during his precious between-meeting time. The upside, if there was one in all of this, was that the task kept his mind from drifting back to the other conundrum he wanted to blame her for but couldn’t.
He’d managed to ignore the nagging thought most of the week, telling himself that last weekend, using Antonio as a prop to turn up the heat and get laid was simply fun and games—a way to get the playful redhead to go home with him. Seeing her again made him doubt his motivations.
Talking to Tony Sr. was the first catalyst though. The reminder Antonio might not always be here tumbled pebbles loose in Justin’s head that were attached to fear. He couldn’t lose his business partner. His best friend.
She was wondering if those cute gay friends of mine... Andrew’s words echoed in Justin’s head. An ages-old taunt that Justin always shrugged off, because it was easier to do that than focus on Justin’s shifting feelings that his attraction might be more than a simple appreciation for Antonio’s handsome form.
When Antonio walked in on Justin and Emily, the ambivalence threatened to split Justin in two. A surge of desire to make fantasy a reality clashed with the nagging suspicion that Justin had crossed a line Antonio wouldn’t forgive.
Justin shook the thoughts aside. Exhaustion and stress were screwing with his head, and he needed it clear, to move forward. He closed his eyes and counted down from ten, forcing out a distraction with each number. When he reached zero, he picked up the phone and dialed a familiar extension.
Antonio answered on the second ring. “Hey.”
“What do you think?” Justin was referring to the email he just sent.
“It’s going to be expensive.”
Justin knew it. But Emily was right about a lot of things last night, including the need to break out PP from APPropriate Designs’ payroll. “I don’t expect you to foot any of the bill if you’re not comfortable with it. This is my obsession. If you’re still helping with the work, that’s better than I can hope for.”
“I’m in.” Antonio didn’t hesitate. “Do you have someone in mind?”
Same person he’d had on his mind for almost a week and shouldn’t. “Take a guess.”
“This is me assuming your choice is strictly for professional reasons. She’s going to balk.”
“Maybe. We won’t know unless we ask.” Justin had a valid list of why Emily was the best person to make this offer to, and Antonio could probably guess most of them. Besides, he was already on board. Justin would save the hard sell for Emily. “Ask her if she’s free to join us for lunch. Wrap it in a pretty bow if you’d like. A no hard feelings kind of thing.”
“No.”
That caught Justin by surprise. “Why not?”
“If I do it, she’s going to think I talked you into this,” Antonio said.
“Who cares whose idea it was?”
“She does. Or rather, I would. I’d want to know whatever happened physically isn’t the driving force for this decision, and that you aren’t being coerced into asking for something that’s questionable on so many levels. After everything she said last night, assume that she’ll react in a similar wa
y.”
A foreign surge of jealousy gnawed at Justin’s thoughts. How did Antonio already knew Emily well enough to say what he was with such certainty? “Point taken.”
He hung up and dialed Emily without pause. Had to keep the momentum going.
“This is Emily.” Hesitation lined her greeting.
“It’s Justin. Do you have a moment?” Not that he expected her to say no. It was a perk of being the boss. Most people made time for him when he asked.
“I do.”
“Are you free for lunch? I have a proposal I’d like to run by you.” He winced. There were a lot of ways that could be interpreted, and as much fun as it might be to talk her into screwing in the coat closet of the restaurant, it wasn’t on the agenda. “Rather, we do. Antonio and I. A business proposal.”
Hesitation stretched over the line. “Can you give me a hint what it’s about?” she said.
“I’d prefer we talk about it on our own time.” With any luck, that would give her a hint, and if not, at least he was complying with her insistence from yesterday that they not conduct PP business on Grant’s dime. It was partly stubbornness, but largely because she wasn’t going to agree to anything unless the lines between the two aspects of the business stayed distinct.
“Do I have a choice?” she asked.
The question ground against his nerves and knocked him off the track. “Always.” The reply held an edge he didn’t intend.
“That came out wrong.” Her voice dropped in volume. “I only meant... Boss asks for your time, it’s unprofessional to say no. Not that I think you would... You know what? I’m going to stop talking now. Yes. I can make it.”
“Great. Twelve thirty? We’ll meet in the lobby.”
“I’ll be there.” The line clicked off.
He placed the receiver back in its cradle and tried to make sense of the uneasiness left by the conversation. And then it hit him. He was bothered she had reservations about taking him at face value. That she didn’t trust him. He didn’t know which was worse—trying to decipher why it ate at him this deeply or not knowing how to change her perception.
Chapter Thirteen
Emily traced the hem of the cloth napkin draped over her lap, focusing on the rough texture against her fingertips and trying to ignore the discomfort growing inside. She’d ordered the chef’s special, but unless she got answers soon, she expected the food to taste like sawdust and sit in her stomach the same way.
On the car ride to the restaurant, Justin and Antonio kept the conversation light, trying to pull Emily in. She wasn’t interested in talking about what her favorite movie was in high school; she wanted answers.
Under the table, Antonio nudged her knee with his. She looked up with a scowl, and he raised his brows. He turned to Justin. “If you don’t ask her soon, she’s going to threaten to walk back to the office.” Even the way the word threaten rolled off Antonio’s tongue and down her spine wasn’t enough to lift her mood. That he recognized she was irritated helped, though.
“All right. I suppose we’ve spent enough time proving this isn’t a work meeting,” Justin said.
Huh? She tried to make sense of the statement and failed.
Justin studied her for a moment. “I—we’ve been thinking about what you said last night. That if we want to put more hours behind PP, we consider hiring a contractor outside of the company structure.”
He’d actually listened to her. She was pleased. “That’s great. But why tell me? I meant what I said about keeping things to myself, but you’re pushing your luck, looping me in on decisions like this.”
“And we’re about to push it a step further.” Justin looked at Antonio. If they exchanged some kind of agreement or signal, she couldn’t tell. He turned back to her. “We’d like you to consider taking a second contract. With us. Nothing extensive, mind you. I don’t expect all-nighters or even your entire weekend. I’m hoping you’ll give us maybe five or ten hours a week. Paid out of our pockets.”
Her brain stuttered to a halt, returning a resource-overload error. “I think you missed the point of my suggestion. You’re supposed to be avoiding conflicts of interest. While we’re at it, I signed a non-compete agreement. As a retainer, I’m not allowed to take anything I learn to another contract and compete against one of Grant’s investments.”
“There’s none of that going on here.” Antonio picked up the pitch. “We made sure of it. None of these conversations happen while you’re on the clock as a contractor. You’re not using what you know to compete against us.”
“Exactly.” Justin dove in. Did they rehearse this? “In fact, you’re doing your job, but one better. What is it you keep reminding us of? We finish the beta—everyone wins?”
Hell. She didn’t like having her words turned against her. Worse, she hated that she couldn’t come up with an argument. The offer wasn’t right in spirit, if not in letter, but she couldn’t find the right words to explain why. “Why do you want me?” She bit back a cringe at the choice of words and pushed on. “Make the offer to one of your developers. Someone who’s already been on the project. Who knows your product in and out.”
“Eh...” Justin dragged out the word. “The thing is they don’t know they’re not supposed to be working on PP. We’ve asked them to keep it quiet and been vague about why, but that’s standard for any of our new products. You’re the only person we know of who’s figured out we’re bending a few rules.”
“That doesn’t make me any more likely to help you continue to do so.” She didn’t know how to make her point, and after what she saw last night, she wasn’t sure how hard she wanted to argue. The technology they were working with was the kind of challenge she thrived on. It was similar to her reasons for helping Cynthia.
Justin leaned in, and his eyes softened. “I’m going to be straightforward—I know, don’t die of shock—and put this all on the table. I’m desperate to finish this project, and you offered up a viable way for me to get it done without stepping on toes. We’ll pay your full rate. You set your schedule.”
Indecision warred inside. Saying yes was a bad idea. Probably a worse idea than screwing Justin last night. On the other hand, she wouldn’t mind padding her savings with a little extra cash. That wasn’t the big thing tipping her toward accepting. Sure, there was the learning opportunity, but Justin sold her with his pitch. She’d struggled in school. Wished on many occasions someone would notice she was bored. This was good experience. There were a dozen excuses to tell them okay. When it came down to it, she wanted to.
But she couldn’t force the words out. “I don’t know.”
“You’ve got time to think about it.” Antonio was kind.
Justin didn’t look as accepting of the answer. “Until Monday. I wish I could give you longer.” The undercurrent in his voice said he was reluctant to offer her that much. The heavy beat of an alt-rock song filtered from his direction, and he grabbed his phone from his jeans pocket. He glanced at the screen. “Have to take this. Be right back.”
Justin walked away, and she turned to Antonio. His attention was focused in the direction Justin walked. She followed his gaze. Correction—he was specifically watching Justin. She knew the look on his face, too. She suspected she wore a similar one every time she stared at one of the men while they weren’t looking.
The equation chugged away in her head, and even when it returned results, she took a minute to process. “Have you considered telling him?” The question escaped before her brain caught up. Justin was worried she’d tell Antonio they used his likeness on Saturday night, and had no idea Antonio might be happy to take her place.
EMILY’S VOICE NUDGED the edges of Antonio’s mind, and he realized he was staring. He dragged his gaze from Justin and faced her. “I’m sorry. What?” He managed to make sense of what she’d asked. “Telling who what?”
“Him.” She nodded toward the corner Justin had disappeared around.
Antonio didn’t care who knew he was bisexual, but this w
as one secret he didn’t need destroying a friendship. Perhaps Emily meant something else. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I tell him everything.”
“Okay. My mistake.” She picked up her water and took the longest sip she could without managing to drain the glass.
Silence stretched between them. Andrew hiding how he felt about Justin was as much a part of him as anything he knew. Andrew figured it out years ago, but it was one of the few things the man kept to himself. Antonio was grateful for that. He was also tired of holding back.
He didn’t know Emily from a random stranger on the street, except for the glimpses of kindness and intelligence he’d seen. And her body. Whew. However, after last night’s conversation, she didn’t strike him as the kind of person who used sensitive information for personal gain. If he told her this, he’d get it off his chest, and she’d be gone in less than a month.
He measured his words before he spoke, hoping to strike a balance between vagueness and confession. “If you’d fallen for your best friend—someone you also had a business relationship with, who never showed the slightest inkling of interest in you that way—would you risk it all by saying something?”
“Is it any easier sitting next to him day after day, while he hooks up with people who aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Easier than losing him? Without question.
She set her glass down and shifted in her seat to look at him. “How?”
“He’s still here. If I say something and lose him because of it, I won’t even have the watching.” He was saying too much, but it was easy with Emily. She studied him with curiosity and compassion instead of judgment. “It’s not a flash-in-the-pan lust thing. I want him to be happy.”
Their Nerd (Two Plus One, #1) Page 10
