by Ana Huang
Stella and I exchanged another glance. I hated rushing into things, but this was our dream apartment. What if Christian did change his mind later? I would never forgive myself for letting the opportunity slip through my fingers.
Pam returned with the papers, her face screwed into a sour frown.
Too bad. If she had a problem with what was happening, she could take it up with her boss, though I doubted she would. Christian did not look like the type who tolerated insubordination.
“Here.” She practically shoved the papers into my hand.
“Thank you, Pam.” I bestowed her with a gracious smile. “I’m so excited we’re going to be your tenants.” I paused. “Sorry, I mean Christian’s tenants.”
Her mouth tightened further, but she was smart enough not to respond.
Half an hour later, after Stella and I painstakingly reviewed every line of the lease, searching for red flag phrases like tenants must provide sexual services to the building’s owner every month to make up for their ridiculously cheap rent and finding none, we signed on the dotted line.
Pam signed after us, and it was done.
We were officially tenants of The Mirage, effective in five weeks.
Unreal.
“I’m glad we could make it work.” A half-smile touched Christian’s mouth. “I have a meeting I’m running late for, so I’ll leave you in Pam’s capable hands. I’m sure I’ll see you both around.” He slid a brief glance in Stella’s direction before leaving.
After his tall, lean frame disappeared into the hall, Pam released a sharp sigh. “Congratulations,” she said tightly. “You just secured one of the city’s most coveted apartments for pennies.”
“Lady Luck has always smiled on me.” It wasn’t true, but it was worth seeing her eye twitch.
We exited the apartment and rode the elevator down to the lobby in silence. Once we hit the ground floor, Pam left us with the world’s most tepid goodbye, but I didn’t care.
“We did it!” I waited until Stella and I stepped outside The Mirage before I threw my arms around her in an impromptu hug. I couldn’t hold back my giddiness anymore. Between the lease and LHAC, today was the best day ever. Period.
“We got our dream apartment!” I sighed, starry-eyed at the possibilities.
Late night drinks on the rooftop. Morning swims in the pool. Diving into a pile of clothes in my walk-in closet just because I could.
“Pinch me,” I said. “I think I’m dream—ow!”
“You said to pinch you,” Stella said innocently. She broke into a laugh and dodged my playful attempt to swat her. “Seriously, though, I’m so happy it worked out, but…”
“But?”
“You don’t think it was too easy? The way he just agreed to our price?” Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth while a small crease formed between her brows.
“It was too easy,” I admitted. “But we both looked over the lease twice. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe Christian was just being nice because we’re Rhys’s friends.”
“Maybe.” Doubt lingered in Stella’s eyes.
“We’ll be fine.” I linked my arm through hers and guided her to the Crumble & Bake a few streets over for celebratory cupcakes. “And if we aren’t, I happen to know plenty of lawyers.”
8
JOSH
As an ER resident, I saw some crazy shit, and the last week was no exception.
A man whose car collided with a fence and arrived at the hospital with the fence post stuck through him? Check. (He was currently in the ICU, but chances were, he’ll survive).
A patient who stripped off all their clothes and ran around the ER naked before two nurses finally caught them? Check.
Someone with a broken-off cucumber stuck in their rectum? Check.
Total insanity, but that was why I’d chosen emergency medicine over surgery, which my father had pushed for. He wanted to brag about having a heart surgeon for a son, but I thrived on chaos. On the thrill of coming into work every day and not knowing what challenges lay ahead. It kept me on my toes, though I could do without removing vegetables from other people’s orifices for a long, long while.
“Get some rest,” Clara said as I clocked out after another grueling night shift. “You look like a zombie.”
“False. I always look perfect. Right, Luce?” I winked at Lucy, another nurse. She giggled in agreement while Clara rolled her eyes.
“See you tomorrow. Try not to miss me too much.” I rapped my knuckles against the counter on my way out the door.
“We won’t,” Clara said.
At the same time Lucy chirped, “We’ll try!”
A chuckle rose in my throat, but by the time I stepped outside, it’d already faded, crushed by bone-deep exhaustion. However, instead of heading home for some much-needed shuteye, I made a left toward the north side of the hospital campus, where the Legal Health Alliance Clinic was located.
I’d somehow misplaced my charger before my shift and my phone was at eight percent, so the backup charger I kept at LHAC was my only hope of keeping my all-important cell alive.
When I arrived at the clinic, Barbs’s car was the only one in the tiny parking lot squished next to the building. Most of the staff didn’t trickle in until half past eight, but she opened and closed the office every day, so she kept longer hours.
“Hey, beautiful,” I quipped when I entered the reception area.
“Hey, handsome,” she said with a wink.
When I’d volunteered at LHAC as a med student, Barbs kept me supplied with home-cooked pastries and sage advice like when life gives you lemons, make lemonade and hang out with someone whose life gave them vodka. She was one of the reasons I’d continued volunteering despite my crazy residency schedule. The clinic staff had become my surrogate family over the years, and even though I only had time to drop by once or twice a week in between shifts, they kept me grounded.
“Wasn’t expecting to see you today.” Barbs tucked her pen behind her ear. “A little birdie told me you just came off a night shift.”
I didn’t ask how she knew. Barbs was the most plugged-in person in the Thayer Hospital system. She knew things about people before they did.
“Trust me, I’m going home and crashing soon.” I scrubbed a hand over my face, trying to keep my eyes open. “I just need to grab my charger.”
I’d volunteered at LHAC so long I had my own desk. The bulk of my work involved staffing its free health clinic for uninsured health patients, but I also consulted on various legal cases that required a medical opinion.
“Before you do, you should say hi to our new research associate.” Barbs nodded at the kitchen door down the hall. “You’ll like her. She’s feisty.”
I raised my eyebrows. “New associate already?”
LHAC had been inundated with new cases recently. Lisa, the legal director, had been talking about hiring a short-term associate to help out until the rush was over, but I hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.
“Yep. Third year at Thayer Law.” Barbs’s eyes gleamed in a way that sent my guard shooting straight up. “Smart girl. Pretty too, if a bit eager. She started on Monday, and I found her waiting outside fifteen minutes before the clinic opened.”
“Congrats, you just described half the girls at Thayer.” A majority of the university’s students were Type A to a fault. “Don’t think about it,” I added when Barbs opened her mouth. “I don’t do office romances.”
I had a reputation as a player, but I would never hook up with someone I worked with, not even in a volunteer setting.
Barbs didn’t bat an eye at my foul language—she’d said and heard much worse at the clinic—though her face did pucker in disappointment. She fancied herself the hospital matchmaker, and she’d been trying to matchmake me for years.
“Besides, if I did date anyone from the clinic, it’d be you,” I added teasingly.
She maintained her frown for ten seconds before it melted into a smile. “You’re a te
rrible liar.”
“Me, lie?” I placed a hand over my chest. “Never.”
She shook her head. “Go. Take that charm elsewhere. You’re too young for me. And come back to me after you’ve seen her,” she called after me, laughing when I tossed her an exasperated look over my shoulder.
I grabbed my charger from my desk and pocketed it. Then, curious despite myself, I headed to the kitchen to meet the new associate. I might as well see what all the fuss was about.
I pushed open the kitchen door, my mouth curving into a welcoming—What. The. Fuck.
My smile disappeared faster than candy at a kid’s birthday party.
Because sitting in the middle of the room, drinking coffee out of my favorite mug and examining a stack of papers, was none other than Jules Ambrose.
My blood pressure spiked.
No. Fuck no. I must’ve fallen asleep after my shift and entered a vivid nightmare because there was no way Jules was the new research associate. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel.
She glanced up at the sound of the door opening, and I would’ve taken great pleasure in the way her face paled had I not been equally thunderstruck.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Our voices mingled in a discordant melody—her words pitched high with stress, mine low with horror.
A muscle jumped in my jaw. “I work here.” I released the doorknob and crossed my arms over my chest. “What’s your excuse?”
“I work here. You work in the ER.” Jules arched an eyebrow. “I see you’re going senile already. That’s what happens when your brain uses all its limited faculties on basic upkeep.”
Goddammit. I didn’t have time for this. I came here to pick up my charger, and now I was stuck arguing with the she-devil when all I wanted was sleep.
But it was too late. There was no backing down unless I wanted her to rub getting the last word in my face until the end of time.
“Don’t project, it’s unbecoming. Just because you have lower than average mental capacity doesn’t mean everyone else does.” A smirk touched my mouth when her eye twitched. “As for the clinic, I’ve been volunteering here since I was in med school.”
Translation: it was my space. I’d claimed it first.
Was that a juvenile way to look at things? Perhaps. But there were so few places I felt truly at home. The clinic was one of them, and Jules’s presence would smash that peace to smithereens.
“It’s not too late to quit.” I leaned against the wall, keeping my eyes locked to hers in a silent challenge. “You’d have more fun spending your free time elsewhere. I’m sure there’s a poor sap who’s willing to fill in the gaps in your schedule if you’re bored.”
“I could say the same for you, Judgy McJosh.” Jules sipped her coffee out of my fucking mug. “Or have you run out of women who’ll fall for your bullshit? Unless you’re using the volunteer excuse to pick up women, which is just sad.”
I closed the distance between us in three strides and slammed my hands on the table hard enough to rattle the highlighters lined up next to her papers. I leaned forward until our faces were only inches apart and our breaths mingled in a cloud of animosity.
“Quit.” The word vibrated, taut and furious, between us.
Jules’s eyes glowed with challenge. “No.”
Her slow, precise enunciation ratcheted my blood pressure up another notch.
My knuckles dug into the hard wood as I fisted my hands on the table. My heart pounded so hard its drumbeat echoed in my head, taunting me.
I didn’t know why this one thing bothered me so much. Jules was the new research associate. So what? I didn’t come into the clinic often, and I didn’t have to talk to her if I didn’t want to. Plus, hers was a temporary position. She’d be gone in a few months.
But the mere idea of her here, in my haven, drinking out of my mug and laughing with my friends and filling every molecule of air with her presence, made it really fucking hard to breathe.
One. Two. Three. I forced oxygen into my lungs with each count.
A few feet away, the fridge hummed, oblivious to the battle playing out in the kitchen. Meanwhile, the clock ticked its way toward the half hour, reminding me I should be long gone by now.
Shower. Bed. Blissful sleep.
They called my name, yet here I was, face to face with Jules, unwilling to wave the white flag in our silent war.
Even at this close proximity, I couldn’t spot a single flaw in her creamy skin. I could, however, count the individual lashes framing her hazel eyes and spot the teeny tiny mole above her upper lip.
The fact I noticed those things pissed me off even more.
“I thought you were all about corporate law. Big bucks. Prestige.” Each syllable came out cold and sharp enough to sting. “The clinic may not be as fancy as Silver & Klein, but we do important work here. It’s not a playground for you to mess around in until you leave for the ‘big leagues.’”
It was a low blow. I knew it even as I said it.
Jules probably needed a job to tide her over until she passed the bar exam, and there was nothing wrong with that.
But my frustration—over my father, over Alex, over the empty, gnawing feeling in my chest that had plagued me for more nights than I cared to admit—turned me into someone I didn’t recognize and didn’t particularly like. Normally, I could pretend I was the same carefree guy I’d been in school, but for some reason, my mask never lasted long with Jules.
Perhaps it was because I didn’t care whether she saw the worst of me. There was a certain liberation in not giving a shit about what other people thought.
“How like you to assume the worst of me.” If my voice was cold, Jules’s was an inferno, incinerating the sharp edges of my irritation until only the ashes of shame remained.
“What, you think I’m going to swan in here every week, push a few papers around, and pretend to work just because I’m a temp? Newsflash, asshole, when I commit to doing something, I do it well. I don’t care if it’s a big law firm, a nonprofit, or a fucking lemonade stand at the end of a dead-end road. You’re not better than me just because you’re a doctor, and I’m not the devil just because I want a high-paying career. So you can take your sanctimonious attitude and shove it up your ass, Josh Chen, because I’m over it.”
Silence blanketed the room, broken only by Jules’s ragged breaths. Her earlier cool had evaporated, replaced with flushed cheeks and blazing eyes, but for once, I didn’t take pleasure in riling her up.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I was too stunned to formulate an appropriate response.
Jules and I had exchanged more barbs than I could count over the years. She always gave as good as she got, but what happened just now…if I didn’t know better, I could’ve sworn she was actually hurt.
A hot poker of guilt stabbed at my chest.
I straightened and rubbed a hand over my face, wondering when the hell my life had gotten so complicated. I missed the days when Jules and I insulted each other with zero guilt or remorse, when my sister wasn’t in love with my ex-best friend, and when my best friend had still been my friend.
I missed the days when I was me.
Now here I was, about to do something old Josh would’ve rather cut off his arm than do.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” I finally conceded. “It was a low blow, and I…” A muscle worked in my jaw. Dammit. “I’m sorry.”
I spit out the words. It was the first time I’d ever apologized to Jules, and I wanted to get it over as quickly as possible.
Just because I did the right thing didn’t mean I had to like it.
I braced myself for Jules’s gloating, but none came. Instead, she just stared at me like I hadn’t spoken.
I forged ahead. “However, the clinic is important to me, and I don’t want our…differences to get in the way of our work. So I propose a truce.”
Proposing a truce might as well be surrendering, but I refused to let our animosity poison my time
at the clinic. Everywhere else, fine. But not here.
Her brow wrinkled. “A truce.”
“Only when we’re in the clinic.” I wasn’t naive enough to think we could uphold any semblance of peace outside a work environment. “No insults, no snarky comments. We keep it professional. Deal?” I held out my hand.
Jules eyed it like it was a coiled-up cobra waiting to strike.
“Unless, of course, you don’t think you can do it.”
Satisfaction trickled through me when her lips thinned. I’d touched on a competitive nerve, as I knew I would.
She didn’t take her eyes off mine as she grasped my hand and squeezed. Hard.
Jesus. For someone so small, she was fucking strong.
“Deal,” she said with a smile.
I smiled back through gritted teeth and squeezed even harder, relishing the way her nostrils flared at the pressure.
“Excellent.”
Forget what I said about being bored.
This was going to be an interesting few months.
9
JULES
If someone had told me a month ago that I would willingly agree to a truce with Josh Chen, I would’ve laughed in their face and asked what they were smoking. Josh and I were as capable of acting civil toward each other as a tiger was of changing its stripes.
But, as much as I hated to admit it, his reasoning made sense. I took pride in my work, and the last thing I wanted was for my personal feelings to affect the workplace. Plus, I’d been so caught off guard by his apology my brain spazzed. I hadn’t been able to think straight, much less wade through what the consequences of a ceasefire with Josh Chen might look like.
Surprisingly, they haven’t been terrible…though that might be because I haven’t seen Josh since the truce. According to Barbs, he only came in on his days off or when he wasn’t wiped from a shift.
I had no issue with that. The less I had to see him, the better. Part of me was still embarrassed by how I’d lost my cool when he accused me of not taking my job seriously. We’d hurled much worse insults at each other over the years, yet that one thing had made me snap.
