Gracie playfully punched me in the arm. “Pretty sweet? Admit it, you’re ready to piss yourself,” she teased. I snorted and let out a small whoop, making Gracie laugh.
“You’re a lost cause, Ri,” Gracie complained good-naturedly.
“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve cornered the market on excitable energy. I’ll just syphon off yours,” I told her, turning left at the red light and cutting off a bright blue BMW that honked loudly at me. I waved my middle finger out the window, earning me a look from my friend.
“What? They were totally in my way,” I stated innocently. Gracie only shook her head and then moved the topic into less comfortable territory.
“So where did you disappear to on Saturday?” she asked me and I had to cough around the squeak that escaped my mouth. The question was asked in obvious ignorance so I hoped like hell that Maysie hadn’t opened her big mouth. And if she had, there was a lake and a pair of cement shoes with her name on it.
“Huh? What are you talking about?” I asked indifferently. I was one cool ass bitch! That’s right, Samuel L. Jackson ain’t got nothin’ on me, mothafucker!
I had successfully dodged Maysie’s not so subtle attempts at conversation around my night as a college slut bag. If I wasn’t going to get into the dirty details with her, I wasn’t about to spill the naughty to Gracie.
My plan was to pretend that the whole thing hadn’t happened. My memories of the night in question were hazy at best. Though what I could remember left me feeling mortified.
I seemed to recall following Garrett into his bedroom and promptly removing my clothes. I don’t think I gave the poor guy a chance to say anything before I was on him. It was then that my mind went mercifully blank. I had either experienced some sort of psychotic break or I had been possessed by the evil spirit of a dead porn star.
Because one thing was for certain, the girl who had jumped into Garrett Bellows’ bed was not the Riley I worked hard to be. Knowing I had so willingly spread my legs for a guy I could barely stomach did a number on my sense of self-respect.
I wasn’t a prude. I wasn’t a goody goody. I didn’t subscribe to the antiquated notion that I needed to wait for marriage to have sex. I had chucked my v-card out the window a long time ago. But I always prided myself on sharing that intimate experience with someone that mattered. Someone that was invested in me as a person.
And it was obvious Garrett barely invested in himself, let alone anyone else. The guy was a wreck in the worst possible way.
Gracie snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Riley. What the heck girl? I’ve been talking for like five minutes and you just totally spaced out,” Gracie harrumphed. I gave her a weak smile.
“Sorry, G. Give me a recap,” I said, turning into the parking lot of the Bakersville Times. I found a spot in the very back of the lot, meaning we’d have to hoof it to get to our internship on time. I grabbed my bag off the back seat and took off toward the building with Gracie scurrying behind me.
“Wait up, Ri! My short little legs can’t keep up!” she yelled. I slowed down and let her catch up to me. She gave me an annoyed look. “I was saying before you decided to check out of the conversation, that I looked for you later at Garrett’s. But you disappeared. Maysie had no idea where you went. We looked forever for you. Where’d you go?” Gracie asked, her words coming in short bursts as she struggled to keep up with my long legged gait.
She must not have looked too hard; otherwise I’m sure she would have known exactly where I ended up. I let out a relieved sigh that I hoped Gracie didn’t notice.
“I was tired,” was all I said, hoping she’d drop it. “Plus, I figured you were busy with Mr. Shaved and Tattooed.” I expertly maneuvered the conversation into more palatable terrain. Gracie giggled on cue.
“His name was Dave. And he’s in the Army. And he was so freaking hot,” Gracie began an overly detailed rundown of her weekend bed buddy’s amazing characteristics. I nodded and made suitable comments when necessary. Thanks god for Gracie’s one-track mind.
As we approached the office, any semblance of conversation was halted over the sound of drills and hammers. The front of the Times building was a veritable construction zone. We headed toward the side of the office to use another door, trying to stay out of the way of the construction workers.
Of course the whistles and catcalls ensued as soon as the sweaty, mucky men caught sight of us. I couldn’t help but notice the way Gracie put a bit more sway to her hips as we walked, throwing flirty grins at some of the guys as we passed. I rolled my eyes and grabbed her arm.
“We don’t have time for you to play Bachelorette with the construction crew. We’re going to be late.” I gave Gracie a tug and pulled her into the building behind me, cutting off the sound of the sexually laced comments that followed us. I didn’t have time to hear about how much they wanted to grab my ass.
We walked up to the receptionist and explained we were the new interns. The rather harried looking woman with a head full of frizzy grey hair and glasses entirely too big for her hawkish face pointed to the row of chairs behind us. We made ourselves comfortable as we waited until someone noticed we were there. I sat picking at my nails while Gracie scrolled through her texts. And then my day sank firmly into a big pile of suck.
“Riley,” a voice I recognized all too well said from behind me. Gracie’s head shot up and her eyes widened. My mouth thinned and I clenched my jaw so tightly I was worried I’d break a tooth.
Deep breaths. Deep, cleansing breaths.
I slowly turned around and stared into the green eyes that up until a month ago were my entire world. Another pair of eyes flashed through my mind. A pretty blue darkening with desire as they looked at me.
Not now, Riley! You are such a ho!
“Damien,” I said in a tone reserved for sales calls and door-to-door missionaries. Of course Damien had gotten the other internship spot. Because my life needed some added crap thrown at it.
Gracie’s eyes were practically bugging out of her head. She watched me as though waiting for me to go berzerker on his ass. Which wasn’t a half bad idea…
Damien smiled nervously. He looked good in his perfectly pressed khakis and green polo shirt. His wavy hair was tamed into a messy style around his forehead. His signature dark framed glasses slid down his nose and he pushed them back up with his forefinger in a gesture that was at once familiar and surprisingly annoying.
“I heard you got one of the spots. Congrats. I know how much you wanted it,” Damien said and then cleared his throat. He looked at Gracie as though she would save him from the dense sea of awkwardness we were drowning in. She looked back at him blankly.
“Yep,” I let my lips pop around the word. He stood there, his hands shoved into his pockets, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip anxiously. I should have been pleased that he was uncomfortable. Reveling in how off balanced I made him but all I felt was sad that two people who used to love each other were now barely speaking.
A woman who was all business saved us. She barely looked at us as she introduced herself as Diane Carleton. She was the assistant editor and would be showing us around. This was all told in the briefest way possible, with minimal interaction. She seemed irritated that she was the one tasked with intern duty. I got it. We were the peons at the bottom of the shit pile. And we were going to be treated accordingly.
That was fine. I appreciated knowing exactly where I stood in the grand scheme of things. No surprises. I could function in that sort of environment. It’s what I was comfortable in.
Despite the frosty greeting, I couldn’t help but get excited as we walked through the bustling newsroom full of chatter and ringing telephones. It was a hive of activity and I hummed with it. This was my scene. This is what I wanted to do with my life. This is where I belonged.
“And here are your
desks. Sorry you’ve got such a crappy workspace but the building is undergoing major renovations. And since you’re on the low rung of the ladder, you get this,” Diane said, not sounding sorry at all as she indicated three desks shoved into a corner beside a large plastic sheet that separated the usable work space with a demolition zone.
It was loud. Sounds of construction and loud voices would make it virtually impossible to concentrate. But I didn’t care. I would go home covered in plaster dust every day but I was here, and that’s what mattered.
I dropped my purse on one of the desks. “How long are the renovations going to last?” I asked, wincing over the ear splitting sounds of drills and nail guns.
“Longer than you three will be here,” she replied with a patronizing smile. “I’ve put folders on your desk detailing the history of the newspaper as well as your duties and responsibilities. There is a code of ethics as well as our work policies that you will need to read and sign off on. When you’re finished bring the paperwork to me. You’ll be assigned your jobs for the week after you bring me everything.” Diane had already started walking away, leaving us.
“Well this is a lot less glamorous than I thought it would be,” Gracie pouted, sitting down in one of the office chairs with a sigh. I rubbed at my temples, feeling the beginning twinges of a headache. The noise level was painful
“Yeah, well, we just need to suck it up and remember this is the best internship at Rinard,” I reminded her. Damien had already sat down and was reading the information in his folder. Following suit, I started to thumb through the material we were expected to go over. I tried not to feel deflated, particularly as I read that most of our “duties” would involve glorified gopher tasks.
The commotion behind the plastic sheet behind us was extremely distracting. I read the same sentence at least a dozen times before I closed the notebook with a decisive bang. Coffee. I needed coffee.
Gracie wasn’t even reading. She was staring at the construction workers walking back and forth beyond her desk. She had that dreamy look on her face as she ogled the guys hefting their sledgehammers as they took down one of the partition walls. They weren’t even that cute, but it didn’t take much to get Gracie’s attention.
Then her expression changed and she lit up like a Christmas tree. Her lips spread in a smile I recognized as her signature man-eater grin. She fluffed her hair and wiggled her shoulders, causing her shirt to droop suggestively low exposing an inappropriate amount of cleavage.
“Garrett!” she squealed in delight. I turned around to find my disastrous one night stand standing behind me with some sort of power tool in his hands. He looked dirty and sweaty and obnoxiously attractive.
Well damn it all to hell.
Garrett gave Gracie a lazy smile. “Hey,” he said, the low timber of his voice doing strange things to my insides. I purposefully turned back around, hoping that he hadn’t noticed me.
“Hey, Riley,” he said in a tone that dared me to ignore him. I lifted my hand in a wave without facing him. I resolutely opened my folder and tried to focus on the words blurring on the page in front of me. I felt the back of my neck flush and my ears burned hot.
“Do you work here?” Gracie asked in a high-pitched voice that could cut glass. Clearly Garrett’s seductive charms were working on my friend.
Garrett walked around until he was stood directly in front of my desk, making ignoring him impossible. He was doing this on purpose. He looked down at me, with an amused smirk on his face. He was enjoying my discomfort. In fact, he seemed to be loving it.
“I sure do. I’m part of the crew working on the renovations,” he said, still looking at me, even though he was talking to Gracie. I met his eyes directly and even though my face was most likely bright red I met his bold gaze head on. I would not let him see me sweat.
“Oh, that’s great. We’ll get to see you all the time then,” Gracie said, trying to get his attention. Unfortunately for her, we were too busy playing the first one who looks away is a pussy.
“Super,” Garrett responded dryly, looking as though he wanted to laugh. Oh fuck this. I got to my feet.
“Gracie, Damien, you want a coffee?” I asked. Sure I was giving him the satisfaction of seeing me run but at that moment I didn’t care. I just needed some breathing space. Because seeing him again, so soon after our night together, was like dunking me in a molten fire pit. I tingled from my scalp to my toes with an awareness of the way this man had touched and kissed me, even though my mind was still hazy with the details. Clearly my body remembered all too well.
And I did not appreciate the reminders here of all places. This was my internship. My world. And Garrett did not belong inside my happy little bubble. Seeing him threw me in ways I couldn’t explain.
“I’ll come with you,” Damien said quickly. I had to suppress my groan. Could this get any better? I looked at Garrett again, whose amusement had faded. Damien reached out to touch my arm but I moved away before his fingers could make contact. Something flashed in Garrett’s eyes and his face darkened dangerously. He flicked his eyes from me back to Damien and he almost seemed to be working through something in that head of his. Seeing him focus on anything was more of a shock than finding him working here.
But one thing was for sure, his nonchalant demeanor was noticeably absent as he stared down my oblivious ex-boyfriend.
“Garrett, when is your next gig? I hate that I missed the last one,” Gracie said excitedly and I used that as my cue to leave. With Damien on my heels, I hurried to the break room.
“Ri, wait up!” Damien called out and grudgingly waited for him to join me. “You okay?” he asked, peering at me closely. Despite how horrible our end was it didn’t change the fact that Damien Green knew me better than most. He knew when I was rattled. And I was most definitely feeling rattled.
I gave him a thin smile. “Fine. Just need some coffee. You know I’m like Dawn of the Dead until I get my caffeine,” I replied. Damien smiled back tentatively, looking a little antsy. His eyes darted around the room, maybe looking for any possible weapons. The boy already knew what I was capable of with a lamp at my disposal.
“I mean are you okay with us doing this together. I know it’ll be..”
“Awkward? Weird? Annoying as hell?” I interjected before he could finish.
Damien lifted his shoulders in a shrug and his smile was strangely more relaxed. As though my snarkiness was something he could deal with. As opposed to the giant pile of sad I had been before.
“Exactly,” he said softly, staring at me in that way of his that at one time made me weak in the knees. He stepped closer, his hand resting on my arm meaning to be comforting. Really it just made me feel icky. Like I wanted to scrub myself clean after he touched me. Who the hell did he think he was talking and touching me like this? I was torn between self-righteous anger and total dumbfoundeness.
“Ah, so this is where the coffee is,” I jerked back as though doused in ice water. Garrett moved purposefully into the room. I blinked in surprise as he walked between Damien and me. Damien stumbled backwards. Did Garrett really just shoulder check Damien?
Damien frowned at Garrett and I knew he was irritated by the interruption. “Let’s get back to our desks, Ri,” Damien said trying to meet my eyes again.
Garrett poured his coffee into a thermos and screwed on the lid. “Actually, can I talk to you for a sec, Ri,” Garrett sneered, turning around to look at me. His expression dared me to refuse. To ignore him and walk away.
“Yeah, sure,” I said defiantly. Damien’s frown deepened as he looked between Garrett and me as though trying to decipher the mysterious vibe that was most certainly humming between us.
Garrett glanced at Damien. “This isn’t a group conversation.” I had to cover my mouth so I wouldn’t chuckle out loud. Damien’s face flushed in indignation and I maliciously e
njoyed my ex’s discomfort. Without another word, Damien left, though he looked anything but happy about it.
“Rude much?” I asked testily, swallowing the enjoyment I felt at Garrett’s posturing and intimidation of Damien. Crossing my arms over my chest, I leveled him with my best you are wasting my time look. Garrett took a drink of his coffee and shoved his other hand in his jean pocket. He had a smudge of dirt across his cheek and I had to stop myself from wiping it off. Not because I wanted to touch him or anything. It was just seriously messing with my OCD.
“If I thought you actually cared about me being rude to that douche bag, I might actually apologize,” Garrett said, his mouth twitching in an effort not to smile. Well I’m glad I amused him so freaking much. That’s me, Riley Walker, three ring circus.
I started to tap my foot to indicate my impatience. Garrett took another drink. “Now who’s being rude,” he commented lazily as though he had all the time in the world to taunt me.
“Don’t you have a job to do? Because I sure as hell do,” I bit out, feeling irrationally frustrated with the whole situation.
“You’re such a prickly little pear, aren’t you?” he mused, causing me to grit my teeth. I didn’t respond, knowing that’s exactly what he wanted. And I was feeling very oppositional. Garrett put his thermos down on the table, and mirrored my stance by folding his rather muscular arms (come on, they were practically on display in his too tight wife beater) over his chest.
“So we’re playing like it didn’t happen,” he stated rather than asked. He looked at me with an unreadable expression. I couldn’t tell whether this is how he wanted it to be or rather it bothered him. Garrett Bellows was apparently a guy with few emotions. His expression was bland and unconcerned as though we were talking about the latest football stats as opposed to our round of naked twister.
Perfect Regret ( BOOK 2) Page 6
