I shift in my seat. "Everyone says he's the best accountant," I say. "Maybe you should try listening to him?" I have no idea why I'm helping Dylan here, but if it's for the good of the company (not to mention my job), I might as well.
Mr. Crane shuffles more papers and reads a few. He clenches his jaw.
"Damn it," Mr. Crane curses. He presses a button on the telephone on his desk. "Get Wilson back in here," he snaps.
Within seconds, Dylan bursts through the doors, breathless. "You wanted me back?" He asks hopefully.
"I thought about what you said," Mr. Crane says. "And you may be right."
Relief washes over Dylan's face before it's replaced with a smug grin. "Thank you," he says.
"You can thank Katie here for giving me a second thought about it," Mr. Crane says. Dylan's eyes flash to me. I look down.
"Well," Dylan says. "Thank you, Mr. Crane. You won't regret this decision, you'll save loads of money."
Mr. Crane nods and Dylan exits the office, looking at me one last time.
As I hear the door shut, I rise to my feet. "I should probably get going," I say. "It was a pleasure meeting you."
Mr. Crane nods. "Likewise, Miss Harris. I look forward to seeing more of your work, if this manuscript is as fantastically edited as Morris says it is." He smiles at me.
I nod and thank him again before walking out of the office. I notice that it's past four already and time to go home, although I don't know where the time has gone.
I hurry back to my desk and gather my things. I sling my bag over my shoulder and sigh, pushing my hair out of my face. I nod goodbye to Caitlin and take the elevators down to the ground floor.
It doesn't surprise me to see Dylan leaning against the front doors to the building. His eyes find mine and he pockets his phone, standing up straight.
I break eye contact with him as I walk past, ignoring him.
"Katie," he calls after me, falling into step alongside me.
"Hmm."
"Why did you help me?"
I stop walking, turning to look at him. "What?"
"You convinced Crane to side with me. Why?"
I shrug. "I want to have my job for more than three years."
Dylan tenses his jaw. "I could have convinced him on my own."
"Well, obviously you couldn't."
"What I'm saying is that I don't need your help," he snaps.
"Why don't you just thank me?" I huff, getting annoyed with his attitude.
"Because I didn't even ask for your help."
"God, Dylan, you are a real piece of work. Next time you're failing at saving the company, don't expect me to step in." I continue walking, anger coursing through my veins.
"It was for the good of your job, too!" He shouts after me.
"I wish it wasn't good for your job, because you do nothing but annoy everyone!" I yell back, yanking open my car door and sliding inside. I back out of the lot as fast as I can so I won't run into Dylan at the apartment building, turning on the radio to try to soothe my temper.
Chapter Seven
James leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. "So when did you start, again?" He asks me.
"Monday. I don't think I've ever been so nervous for something in my life." I pick up an earring and put it in my ear.
"I remember my first day as an intern," James says. "I was so scared, man."
"Hmm." I know my job is nothing like his, but I don't say anything.
"Our reservations are at six, Katie, we're going to be late." James taps his watch, sending me a teasing glance.
"I know, sorry. Let me just..." I grab a tube of lipgloss and swipe it across my lips. "There. Let's go."
James smiles and I follow him out of the apartment, locking the door behind me. It's Saturday night, James's night off. I'm glad I'll get to spend time with him before I go back to work. The rest of the week went by pretty fast, and Oliver and I talk most every day. I enjoy talking to Sarah and Lana, too. I've done my best to ignore Dylan, and from how the rest of the week went, he's been ignoring me, too.
We get into James's car and I lean back in my seat. The night is crisp, but not too cold. The sun is sinking below the horizon, streaking the sky with orange and pink, stars peaking through the wispy clouds.
"Chilly out," James comments as we drive along.
"Yeah," I say. "How cold does it usually get in the winter?"
"Depends," he says. "Sometimes we get snow, but not always. It does get pretty close to freezing, though."
I shiver. "I hope my place has good heating."
James chuckles. "Yeah."
The rest of the drive is silent as I look out the window, watching the lights of the city.
"Edinburgh is beautiful at night," I muse.
"Mhmm." James drums his fingertips on the steering wheel as we stop at a red light. His dark hair is styled up with gel and his blue eyes focus on the road. He wears a plaid shirt and jeans.
"So...where are we going?" I ask, breaking the silence.
"A nice place along the Willamette," he tells me. "The river is beautiful at night."
I nod. I hate how James and I always seem to run out of things to talk about. I open my mouth to say something else, but James beats me to it.
"Here we are," he says, pulling the car to a stop. I close my mouth and get out of the car, following him up to the restaurant.
The hostess seats us by the window and I marvel at the river. The waters lap the banks calmly and I can see lights from buildings on the other side of the river. James doesn't give it a second glance as he peruses the menu.
I open my own menu and skim down the list. I notice the high prices of all the dishes and hope James lets me pay for my own. I couldn't ask him to pay such an expensive bill.
Just as we're about to order, James's phone buzzes. He picks it up at lightning speed, his eyes scanning the screen.
"Shit," he says.
"What?"
"I have to go in. One of the other interns got sick. Go figure." He half smiles. "Can I get a rain check?"
I look at him, horrified. "James, how am I supposed to get home?"
"I'm really sorry, Katie, I'll make it up to you, I swear. I just really have to go--" He gathers his things and begins to stand.
"But--"
"I'm sorry, I have to go--"
I clench my jaw. "Fine."
James's eyes soften. "Katie, don't be upset."
"How can I not be? Saturday is supposed to be your night off."
"I can't help it if they need me at the hospital," he says. "What if someone's dying and they need my help?"
I sigh. "Okay. Sorry."
He smiles and leans over to kiss me lightly on the lips. "I'll see you tomorrow," he says. I watch as he quickly makes his way through the restaurant and out the doors without a second look back.
I cross my arms over my chest. How am I going to get home? I can't help but be mad at James for this. Don't they have other interns they can call?
I gather my things and get up to leave. I apologize to the hostess and walk outside, breathing in the cool air.
I lean against a wall and decide to people watch before I call someone to pick me up. It's not like I know anyone that well around here yet. I suppose I could call Oliver. I'm sure he'd help, if he isn't busy.
I sigh. Sometimes James is just so insensitive.
Stop it, I say in my head. He's a medical intern. These things are going to happen.
My eyes travel to a bar across the street. I can hear music pounding from inside and hearty laughs emitting from drunken people.
I watch as someone walks out of the bar, hands in their pockets. I squint. No. It can't be.
I quickly turn to go back into the restaurant, but I'm too late.
"Katie!"
Chapter Eight
I slowly turn and meet the eyes of Dylan as he crosses the street. A smirk is painted on his lips as he walks up to me.
I clench my jaw. "Hi," I say
coldly.
"What are you doing out here all alone?" His tone is taunting.
I cross my arms over my chest. "I don't need your shit right now," I say. "So if you could leave me alone that would be ideal."
Dylan's smirk grows. "Where's Dr. Boyfriend?" He asks, ignoring me.
"He's an intern," I snap. I lock my jaw when I realize I just hurt my own case.
"Right, how could I forget." Dylan's gaze teases me.
"Right," I mirror his tone. "Leave me alone, please."
"Something tells me you need a ride home, Katie."
I snap up. "Don't call me that."
"What? 'Katie?' Or do you prefer 'Katherine?'" Of course he'd know my full name. Damn him getting my file.
"Stop it," I say.
"I personally like 'Katie.'"
"Go away."
"Come on, Katie, I'll give you a ride. But that means you'll have to owe me."
"I'm not riding home with you."
"Alright, then who's your ride?"
"Oliver," I lie.
"Bullshit," Dylan says. "Oliver wouldn't be able to pick you up."
"Why not?"
"He's..." He trails off, breaking my gaze. "He's busy." His demeanor shifts. I tilt my head, curiosity swelling inside of me.
"How do you know I even need a ride?" I retort.
Dylan looks back at me, grinning. "I can tell."
I huff.
"Come on," he says, turning to cross the street again. When I don't move, he looks back over his shoulder. "Or you could stay out here in the cold."
I know my options are limited, and I'd rather choke myself with all of Mike's M&M's than spend time with Dylan, but I roll my eyes and follow him across the street anyway.
He half smiles when he sees I'm following him. We walk into the parking lot of the bar and stop at a sleek black sedan. Dylan unlocks it and I get into the passenger seat, looking out the window as he starts the car.
His vehicle is surprisingly clean, with the new car smell still lingering. A sweatshirt is draped over the passenger seat, and Dylan tosses it into the back.
"So let me guess," Dylan says as he backs out of the lot. "Doctor Boy stood you up."
I roll my eyes. "Wrong."
"Or did he leave in the middle of dinner? Shit, that's heartless." He smirks at my clenched jaw.
"You would know."
"I'm offended," he says in mock hurt. "You think I'm heartless."
"Well, considering the first time we met you told me to keep the noise down when I wasn't even making any," I bite back.
Dylan half smiles. "It was for future reference."
"Right."
"Your file was very interesting," Dylan says, changing the subject. "Native to London, yes?"
"I'm not talking to you."
"I'm doing you a favor here, Katie." He seems satisfied with the fact that I'm in his car.
"Stop calling me that."
"No, I don't think I will, Katie."
I roll my eyes.
"My question was," Dylan says. "Why did you move to Edinburgh from a great city like the Big Apple?"
"That's none of your business."
"I surely hope you didn't move because of Doctor Boy." Dylan throws back his head and laughs at the nickname he's given James.
"His name is James, douchebag."
"Douchebag? Harsh." Dylan's eyes mock me.
Dylan hums quietly and drums his fingers on the steering wheel, much like James does. City lights pass by as we drive along, casting a glow into the car.
"Why are you so rude to me?" I ask out of the blue.
"Rude?"
"Yeah. You're a total jerk."
"Wow, you sure have a lot of names to call me, Katie." He winks at me and I scowl.
"Seriously, stop calling me that."
"I think it has a nice ring to it."
"I don't."
"Does Dr. James call you Katie?"
"Stop making fun of him."
"I'm not making fun of him."
"Yes, you are."
"Oh, take it down a notch, Katherine," Dylan says, rolling his eyes teasingly.
I grimace at my full name. I hate that he knows so much about me from my damn file. If only I could get ahold of his file, and our roles could be reversed. I almost smile at the thought.
"Well, here we are, Katie," Dylan says as he pulls into the lot of the apartment building.
"Fantastic." I get out of the car and hastily begin walking to the building.
"What, no thank you?" Dylan asks, jogging a bit to catch up with me.
"No."
"I did save your ass."
"From what?"
"The drunks at that bar," he says, smirking for the millionth time tonight.
"I can fend for myself, thank you."
Dylan laughs. "A little girl like you? Please."
I press the button on the elevator with my thumb. "I'm not little."
"Yes, you are. How tall are you, five four?"
"Five seven," I snap. "Get your measurements right."
"Sorry, I'm still used to the metric system."
We step into the elevator. I tap my foot in impatience. I just want to get to my apartment and away from Dylan.
"You know, you don't have to be so frigid. I am trying to be nice," Dylan says.
"This is your idea of nice?" I almost laugh.
"Yes. I don't give too many car rides to people, you know."
"I guess I'm lucky, then." I roll my eyes and press the button for floor five.
"Yes, you are," Dylan agrees, ignoring my sarcasm.
The elevator begins to move and I lean against the wall.
He Looked Back Page 4
